4 Weeks Pre-Transplant Official “Yes” Mindspace

I am so bored… my mood was alright until the past few days.  Maybe it was because of my last therapy session where we talked about death, and a part of me just felt kinda bummed.  What if I die?  That’s just the end… and I really wish I could do so much more before my time is up.  I’m also so sad at the thought of leaving my family.  But these thoughts aren’t very helpful since they’re out of my hands.  It also could be that everything goes well and all this worrying was for nothing. Despite my hanging on to the success stories, there are so many people, young people my age who have passed away either through an unsuccessful surgery or after a year or two.

How to stay motivated and productive? IDK. I am actually tired of Mario Kart now since I play religiously for a couple hours everyday, and I am also getting road rage at Waluigi and other characters.  I’ve started trying some cooking recipes this week, but none of them made me that happy because it wasn’t super successful or delicious.  I have this weird thing lately where I keep trying to fill a void by trying new things and getting really excited, but then being like “oh that was just ok” after.  For example, the recipes, and ordering a bunch of korean instant noodles, and now looking at clothes and I want to buy everything, but I know I don’t NEED some of these items.

I have dealt with a few minor insurance things this week, and then wondering what to get my brother for his birthday.  It’s tough!  Hard to know what he would actually like or find useful.    I also finally measured my body parts so I know exactly what kind of clothes would fit me well.  I also contacted a couple apartments in Philly to get some information on the places we could stay at post-transplant recovery.

I’ve been continuously working on lessening my impact on the environment.  Steps I’ve taken the past year and recently:

  1.  Dropps – eco-friendly laundry detergent.  I can’t really tell the difference in the usage of it, but I only bought a sample pack so far.  It comes shipped in a brown cardboard box and dissolvable plastic.
  2. Hydroflasks + Swell – Reusable, High Quality Water Bottles for my family and me.  No more plastic bottles unless emergency use
  3. Reusable Grocery Bags – we got some wegman bags, but 50% of the time we forget to bring them or use them when we go grocery shopping.  Still in progress.
  4. Metal + Bamboo Straws – either reusing plastic straws that we have at home, refusing plastic when we go out to eat, and buying reusable straws instead
  5. Everlane clothes that are eco-friendly and also ethical.

Now my internet knows I’m interested in these types of things and I keep getting ads, which I don’t entirely mind.

It’s now Friday late at night, and I feel a bit better (I started this post at the beginning of the day).  Tomorrow my dad and I are going to bake and maybe go grocery shopping for a little bit.  In a sense, my dad is my best friend and the most comfortable person to be around, and he always does things for me with endless patience and tolerates my tempers.  In regards to the therapy session about death, I have decided to buy each of my family members and maybe friends a special gift, one that they will always associate with me.  It doesn’t have to be anything extremely unique or fancy, but something we had talked about or whatever.  I have decided to buy my mom a pair of earrings, because we have talked about it forever, and I want the design to be special from her other earrings, so I looked on Etsy.  I don’t know what to do about everyone else yet, but I have time.

Claire Wineland died at 21 years old after a lung transplant.  But she is my hugest inspiration and role model, because she achieved more and looked on life in a positive perspective that most people who have lived far longer will never manage or appreciate.  Time is truly short, and with that, she always enjoyed her time with her family and friends, did what she loved, started a foundation, gave uplifting speeches, and became an adviser for a movie (“Five Feet Apart”).  Like, damn girl.  And she managed to stay beautiful in every possible way.

While I’ve gone through a bum wave, I am now thinking again about what it would be like to walk more than a couple minutes and not be exhausted, to spend time hanging out with a group of friends and not have to recover the next day, to be able to explore and travel, in the cold and in the heat, walk up a slight incline or stairs and not be out of breath, holy fuck, I think the truth is everyone else is living the life of a superhero, but most people are oblivious to the miracle that they are and all that untapped potential.  The body and mind is made up of a million mini functions and organs that work together to keep you alive every second of every day.  To have zero issues in any of those departments is indeed, a walking miracle and the ultimate blessing.

What life has thrown at me, most of us will experience eventually, just I am going through it earlier and more intensely.  When faced with greater pressure and intensity, one can also manipulate the sour lemons into greater perseverance and make something bigger out of it.  I’m not sure exactly what that is yet, but I want to discover it.  Most of us are more alike than we realize; we can feel self-conscious, worry about what others think, and that can manifest itself in anything from using a wheelchair to having a pimple.  I guess in that sense, it calms me down to know that I am not that different after all, and definitely not that alone.

 

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The Calm Before the Storm

03.14.19

I’ve been oddly peaceful lately… in some ways, this is preferable to crazy anxiety and insomnia, but I wonder if some part of my brain has become dumber and switched off an activation code lately.  I’ve reverted back to the days of a 7 year old relying heavily on their parents to feed them, get them things, and spend time with them.  It may be a coping mechanism, but it could also be that I have resolved on my plan for this year and just need to map out the kinks and details at this point.

For example, I am a Medicaid patient, and I had called them recently to get more information.  This week, I was sent three letters and packages in the mail from them, not small by any means.  These packets included a living will, a case manager they offered to assign to me to help me with all this confusion, and another enrolling me in a pulmonary education program.

Here are some things I really want to change in our healthcare system as well as disability assistance in common places such as work, our community, and our cities (I’m looking at you, NYC).  We should always have the automated doors, we should always have elevators or sloped walkways, especially when that poor mom fell down the stairs trying to carry both a stroller and a child alone down the subway.  These are two of the most basic disabled rights that I can think of off the top of my head, although I also think it would be totally fair to make offering straws illegal unless a disabled person requested one.  Even though disabled rights have improved over the years, we are still so far away from what is actually fair and equal.

Five years ago, I similarly went through rigorous research, but that time, my desperation and panic led me nowhere.  I messaged Harvard professors and emails prestigious sounding doctors, of which I remember one advising me sternly not to to seek any stem cell therapy centers, and to insist that I get a lung transplant.  To me, a lung transplant was the epitome of death.  Now, it is a chance for hope and a better future and quality of life, even though death is still there in the picture (I am actually going to be diving into the outlook on death for my next therapy session this week).

03.16.19

I’ve been on Youtube a lot lately and watching mostly mukbang videos, The Voice, and World of Dance clips.  But in between, I also watch Youtubers who share their lives in living with a disability, and there’s one channel that features an inter-abled couple.  I always felt like a part of me was more enlightened and more patient, and kinder, and understanding because of everything I’ve been through.  But a part of me also understands the comments that are incredulous, sometimes borderline mean, that ask how such a couple exists and is okay with handling the “burdens” of care-taking.  I think maybe a fear of mine is that even as a technically handicapped and sick person, I still hold prejudice and still aim to separate myself from other disabled people.  I remember one time in college, the disabled office told me I could hang out with the other freshman kid who was in a wheelchair.  I also remember feeling resentful that I was by default, lumped in with the other kid as if we were the same kind, and also resolving to do everything I could do to fit in with “normal” students, and not associate myself with him.  Some time later, I remember seeing him walking by, us making eye contact briefly, and me thinking he was pretty cute.  Eventually, he was walking by on a cane and often accompanied by an attractive girl, and I felt pretty ashamed for ever disassociating myself from him just because he was in a wheelchair.

I love my mom and dad, but to be honest my childhood was difficult.  My mom was always stressed out and this caused her to be very impatient, often getting angry with me for things that were out of my control, like having a poor appetite and not being able to finish meals, and eating slowly, and needing her to drive me to school everyday.  Looking back now, I am much more understanding of her experiences and struggles in raising a different abled kid, especially when neither of us really understood it, and she was already dealing with a lot of personal, separate problems. I guess despite my understanding her especially now that she is a lot more patient and calmer and we communicate more, I fear that I would be the same type of parent or girlfriend,  I would still run away or deal poorly with any signs of hardship that wasn’t solely my own.

Birthday Blessings

I am officially 26! … I have graduated from the bracket of age 18-24, occasionally 18-25.  Apparently I’m not truly “old” or in my “late 20s” until I’m 27.

I feel really lucky to have wonderful family and friends to make me feel loved.  Even though one could argue that my quality of life has gotten worse, that is only physically.  Mentally, I’ve become stronger, not without the help of therapy.  My perspective on life has changed, and I’ve grown more hopeful and better enough to fight for a future that could improve my possibilities of things I could experience, a life that I had only imagined since I’d grown up.  I’d be able to run, hang out with friends an entire day without feeling exhausted, I’d never feel short of breath again from walking a couple blocks or walking up stairs, and I’d never have to feel that dizzy, wobbly, bursted feeling whenever I did try to push that boundary.

I was pretty satisfied with a casual hangout with my college friends last weekend, and determined to enjoy the present for all the happiness it offered.  I kept getting expected and unexpected love, which included 3 delicious cakes, two books, a Nintendo Switch, a Nordstrom gift card, a heated blanket, balloons, and a lovely Cajun style seafood dinner with family.

My heart is full, and all these memories just remind me not to take anything for granted, and to keep trying my best for an optimal future with the people who matter most.

P.S. Got another last minute visit from my friend and her baby today (Tuesday)!  He is growing up so fast, this is my first time seeing a baby every couple months, and it’s crazy to me how quickly he picks up things and how beautiful of a child he is.  I also have firsthand appreciation of a mother’s full-time work in looking after another human being.  They gave me an orchid plant and another birthday balloon!  Whoo-hoo.  For reals, most of my life I was bitter and resentful of anyone who I thought was a friend but ended up not being there for me.  It may be because of my change in perspective, but all I feel is joy in mattering in other people’s lives, and that I have friends who offer to drive me to UPenn at all touches me.  We don’t know if we have another minute, day, week, years, or a lifetime to spend with our loved ones.  I’d always been on a rush to live as fully as possible whenever my body allowed me, and it only makes me more determined to live longer and healthier because now I have fully understood the meaning of life and my place on this earth, and I will not take it for granted if I had a second chance.

To-Do Now / Bucket List Post Transplant

BUCKET LIST POST TRANSPLANT

  • Skydiving (maybe, we’ll see what the doctors say)
  • Play with a baby elephant
  • Dance classes
  • Make a vocal cover
  • Travel as much as possible – one trip with friends, as many with family as possible (see future blog post on destinations, particularly landmarks)
  • live in NYC for 1+ month
  • Check out Wicked on Broadway
  • Go hiking, just cause I can
  • Taekwondo (maybe)
  • Get a high paying job – buy my parents a really nice present (trip abroad?? Celine Dion concert??)

TO-DO NOW

  • Continue learning Korean
  • Watch Hasan Minhaj Netflix special, learn more about Saudi Arabia women’s rights
  • Continue UN online volunteering
  • Learn more SQL / data science things / Tableau
  • Read up on 2020 presidential candidates
  • Do some basic leg exercises
  • Try to gain some weight
  • … other useless things I should not to-do… like The Bachelor (darn you, Erin!), mukbangs, and Toon Blast

Lung Questions and Stresses

  1. Since my diagnosis is obliterans bronchiolitis, with a lung transplant, technically should be cured?
  2. Would the lung function immediately be high, or would it be low and slowly improve over time?
  3. Two incisions under boob (video assisted thoracic surgery?  or one across?  Dr. Cantu had mentioned two incisions which heals faster)
  4. How would we know when we can go off the ventilator?
  5. Are we very conscious the days following surgery?
  6. Chest tubes I heard are painful ?
  7. Dr. lee mentioned some improvements made since the time I got evaluated 2 years ago- can you give me some more info on that?
  8. Support group —> particularly for parents; and info session link.
  9. How would the cold affect my new lungs?  i know sick people are risky, how would that compare to cold weather?
  10. Dr. lee would present to case, then would i be activated on the list?
  11. When we get the call for a lung transplant, do we get to know what the age is of the donor, besides high-risk factors?  What are the determinations for a qualified donor lung?
  12. What is the opinion of the lung transplant’s team ?
  13. Can I go skydiving?

215 662 6200, press 3 for lung team

Emergency call 215 662 4000, ask to be connected to provider on call.


I think because I’ve had therapy for 4 years, I’ve gone through the 5 stages of grief.  Obviously, I’m not “ok”, but I’m okay enough to understand and accept that this is what I have to go through eventually if I want to live.

My mom on the other hand, is definitely going through all stages of grief.  I think even though doctors have told her in the past, she was always in denial and firmly kept believing that there were other things she could do to maintain me where I was.  Like giving me chinese medicine, having me avoid certain foods, and being upset at my dad because he didn’t move us to a warmer climate (California).  While it may be true that that that could’ve helped, or prolonged my diagnosis, it is also true that that would not have been a cure at all.  Functioning at 19% was a miracle for the time that I’ve grown up, but I had never known otherwise.

I’m really worried about my mom and how my parents will handle this, particularly if it goes south.  She kept having a meltdown and saying that there’s no point in living without me, that her meaning in life was for her kids and her family.  It is really burdensome for me to hear this, and part of what is making me uneasy and hesitant to tell the lung transplant team that I’d like to move forward.  Her stress is understandable, but it definitely is bouncing the stress over and over between us.  I want her to separate our lives a bit, because like Michelle Obama said, you are only responsible for your own happiness.   My acceptance and peace that it could all end up okay was faltering, and I ended up having a terrible nightmare of me being chopped into pieces like ham, and being sewn together with body parts of another person.  I saw blood on the bedsheets and all that, it was pretty horrifying.

I also had doubts that I’d have the strength and determination to swallow all those pills daily for the rest of my life.  But of course, when I thought of the bad things, I forgot about the good things, and vice versa.  I was trading in my life now, for a new life where yes, I’d have different risks and complications, but I could be able to breathe and run and dance and travel.  I think I would feel superhuman at that point.

Also, the cabin fever is really wearing me down.  Every winter, I feel like I’ve lost my mind, and wonder how I was able to make it through each year. Quite honestly, the quality of life imo is appalling.

How to Take Control: The Parallels in Piano and Chronic Illness

As an INFJ, I am often more prone to thinking with my heart than my brain.  Oftentimes, my emotions overran calm logic, but as I’ve grown older, I’ve aimed to create an equal balance between the two in order to lessen anxiety.

Even though I had a difficult piano professor in college, I did learn some really important lessons that I applied to other aspects of my life.

One of the major things she taught me was that I was in control.  The piano doesn’t play you, you play the piano.  Often times, I would attempt to let my fingers fly across the keys, in my younger years depending heavily on muscle memory.  I learned as I grew older that developing a method of 100% precision is not possible with just muscle memory- while useful, the mind is prone to blanking out, especially when overwhelmed onstage with a thousand eyes on you. The only way to ensure no memory fumbles is not to rely on the memory.  Instead, you must perfect control over the keys, and that means studying each note, individually, as each finger plays one and expectantly lands on the next, not just through muscle, but through mind.  In conclusion, sometimes “winging it” is not the right plan – sometimes, you just gotta prepare as much as possible in as many concrete ways as possible.

When you focus your practicing, you are also wasting precious time and efforts if you are playing a piece from beginning to end over and over again aimlessly, with no conscious intention on what particular segment needs to be fixed, or breaking it down by specificities:  what is the greatest technical pattern to practice in this section?  What is the tricky fingering in the left hand here, and do the dynamics between the first and second contrast each other well?  You practice intention as much as the physical action itself, which means you can greatly improve performing your piece by listening to 10 different artists’ recordings and interpretations, studying the pages away from the keyboard.  Basically, exercising intent and logic is just as important as processing your emotions and feelings.  

So that’s what I’ve been applying to in terms of the management of my chronic illness.  Both onstage and offstage, I am susceptible to bouts of anxiety and panic attacks.  There are factors both in your control and out of your control, and the most you can do is prepare to the best of your ability what is in your control, the rest is out of your hands.  What have I taken control over?  I guess I feel the culmination of all my work leading up to this point right now.  I’ve felt overrun to a pulp by all the insurance crap because there are so many complicated pieces to it and it’s confusing af.  I’ve felt completely overwhelmed by the whole decision making on my quality of life, the goals I want to achieve and the health problems that are obstructing my way to those goals being achieved.

As a feeler, I don’t really have much problem talking about my problems and connecting to others emotionally and empathetically.  I actually may have too many feelings for my reservoir for feelings, so the first step in this journey was to control that to the best I could, which led me to a concrete plan of:

  1. Therapy – I have anti-anxiety medication which has helped tremendously despite my hesitation to take it. It has maximized my productivity to tackle shitty feelings when shitty things occur along with boring, complex adult things like insurance, and more emotional control so that I can put more energy into more motivation and focus on completing tasks that are rarely fun or exciting, but necessary.
  2. Education – I have spent a lot of time to inform myself as much as possible on whatever the problem is.  When you have a greater understanding of things, you have a better grasp on things, and therefore will lead to less anxiety.  I have poured hours into reading up on lung transplants, statistics, and asking questions on the internet and to my transplant team, who I trust very much, with my life (literally).  Just like organizing and breaking down a piece of music to conquer it, I have taken time to reflect on mini goals and research.  What are the risks, what is the medical process, recovery time, what can I expect in the beginning, middle, and end?  What are the finances in terms of insurance coverage, who is my support team, and what are medical opinions on how I’m doing?
  3. Non-Medical Goals – social life, family and friends, other goals like work/career, travels, relationships, personal habits and new skills to learn, what are my priorities and how do I break down the steps to achieving them, one day at a time?  What are my passions, what is my mission in life, how do I want to impact the world?

While playing with heart and passion is always an important factor to your success as a musician, conveying emotion also requires technique and technical methods to break it down efficiently.  So here I am, trying to meditate a bit and bring in some calm, and today I completed some insurance tasks.  To give an idea, here are some of the things I did today:

I liaison between my dad’s company adviser, my dad, and my therapist, the insurance company, and my physicians to produce a letter and other documents proving that I should stay on my dad’s insurance plan after the age of 26;

I called my insurance company’s behavioral health department to confirm the steps to receiving teletherapy care with my therapist;

I sent in a request to the insurance company to update my PCP for a new card;

I reorganized my list of medications and verified their approved pick-up dates with the pharmacy, also re-ordering one of them.

I proceeded to watch Hasan Minhaj’s correspondence dinner on Youtube, began reading a new book (“The Bonesetter’s Daughter” by Amy Tan), did my daily 15 minutes of Korean, spent some time chatting with my best friend, and am now going to clean out my bag and organize everything.

The greater process requires equal parts to yield optimal results.

Be your own fucking boss.  Get in control.  Even if often times, it doesn’t feel like it.

 

 

A Wise Woman Once Said…

Aka my therapist.

One day I was rambling about my insecurities and how anxious I felt by what other people thought of me.  I was probably describing one of the many moments in which I used a handicap spot or some other form of assistance, while aware of someone’s eyes on me, observing, probably judging whether I was abusing the system or just straight up not actually ill.  My paranoia was always getting the best of me, and it’s a very vulnerable feeling, when someone’s singular subtle action or movement could destroy you in a breath.  Why do we let people control us like that? Why do we tend to care so much what other people think?

My therapist said to me at this point, that I was battling two things.  The first was the very real struggles I deal with, emotionally and physically, the things I can’t fix, factors completely out of my hands.  The second was myself, and very fixable in how I perceived, intercepted, and reacted.  It was so cliche, but the way she said it clicked for me.  Why was I creating an extra layer of struggle when I had enough to juggle on my plate?  Wasn’t it enough that fortune or people made life difficult, why was I piling on more for myself?  It was just extra, useless energy.


These were the reasons why I posted on IG and confessed publicly for the first time in my life what I was facing, the burdens that I kept buried for so long.  What was the point of keeping them secrets when this was fate and things were going to happen the way they were going to happen regardless?  In the grand scheme of things, did it really matter who knew and what they said and thought?  People will think what they want to think at the end of the day.  And when we reach this point, the end, there really is nothing much else to lose.  I’m surrendering it all by laying it all out before me.

I think more and more on what imprints I’ve left on this world.  What is it that I want to change, and how is it that I want to be remembered?

A vaguely terminal illness will bring this mentality to the forefront, especially when I’m feeling the real effects and symptoms on my body.  I broke down so hard last week that I felt like there was probably nothing left in me to go on.  I felt forgotten by the rest of the world, and wasn’t sure at this point it really mattered if anyone did reach out to me to tell me otherwise.  My mind spiraled so deep into a really dark future filled with more pain, repetitive suffering, a never-ending uphill battle, where no matter who else talked to me, I was the one who would have to go through it alone, the demise and suffocation, feeling the slow burn failings of my inner workings.  I didn’t want to go through it, I wanted to halt the brakes, but I couldn’t do anything about it.  I was tired of my mom coming in to help me with every single thing, I was tired of feeling like I was inhaling only 10% when I needed at least another 40% more oxygen through my airways.  I was so sick of my heart rate speeding up over 140 bpm if I so much as sneezed.  I guess I felt dead inside.

I called a friend, even though I felt so dead that the majority of me didn’t really want to see anyone or contact anyone.  If I passed on, people might be a tad sad for a bit, but at the end of the day, people would move on, and that would be all.  My friend miraculously cheered me up by staying optimistic and upbeat and keeping some part of me in the realistic loop of the rest of the world’s rhythm, about work, and driving home, and eating, and other mundane tasks.  We talked about stupid things, and the distraction definitely pumped a bit more energy back into me.  Things would be ok.  At least for now.  I would make it through, at least this time around.

Ending 2018 with Hospitalization

I believe the last time I was hospitalized for an RSV infection was nearly two years ago, in January of 2017.

I’d been going relatively strong for 2018, but alas, one of my expected fears became reality, and Christmas weekend I increasingly felt off until I was able to see my primary doctor on Wednesday, where unsurprisingly, she took a listen and sent me off to the ER.  It was more apparent to me that my body was failing me this time, as by Tuesday night, I felt like I was suffocating from standing up.  I actually felt like my lungs almost disappeared, and deeply aware that there wasn’t much oxygen exchange happening.  My shoulders were working double time to breathe for my lungs, and I kept bending over. I felt like I was perhaps dying, and prepared a few things before most likely heading to the ER.   My doctor said she couldn’t hear movement at all in my right side and that there was a faint wheezing on my left, which probably meant I had pneumonia, and that I looked like I was going through respiratory failure.

We arrived at Morristown Hospital around 4pm, and it was less hectic than the last time, but still a shit ton of people waiting around.  The process was so slow it felt agonizing, and I felt if I were going to die, I would have in that waiting room.  My oxygen tank ran out, and I felt so terrible that any movement felt like I was making myself run 5 miles, except I couldn’t even gasp for air because there was no air to move in my tightened airways.   My dad thankfully bugged them to move me up and give me another oxygen tank in the meantime, and finally we were moved to another waiting room area, and then wheeled to one of those stretcher curtain “rooms” where they drew blood, stuck an IV in, and I repeated answers to the same questions to about 7-8 different people.  One doctor felt that I may or may not need to stay overnight, and a few hours later, I was wheeled into a proper room.  We were there just over 24 hours when a respiratory room opened up, and there they put me on steroids and antibiotics for the first 2 days, then some doctor came and reversed that decision.  For the most part, I really liked all the nurses and doctors except for one douchey tall and young doctor.  They much improved from 2 years ago imo.

There was nothing to do but wait it out to slowly improve (hopefully).  The amount of shittiness and exhaustion I felt made me thankful that while I’d been complaining about being out of breath going up the stairs, I was now aware of what it felt like to be short of breath at rest too, which was beyond terrifying and all I could focus on.

Anyway, I was hospitalized from December 26, to January 31, 2018.  A couple people visited me, but it was very low key.  Very glad I was able to be discharged before the New Year, even if I somewhat begged for it.  My best friend came over, and we passed a very chill new year’s in my family room.  My brain has been foggy all week, so I didn’t really have time to process that it’s 2019 now.

I spent the past few days in bed on oxygen almost 24/7, and still feel winded from getting up to pee.  My oxygen drops dangerously to 88% when I do so, which is really bad and I start to feel a hint of that suffocation.  I need my normal baseline back off oxygen saturation at 96% rest, and 90% in motion.

Overall, I’m pleased with 2018, it’s been a relatively good year for me and my family and friends, so I hope 2019 is just as good or better.  The particular reason why is probably that I have zero regrets.  I usually stayed home during the winter months because  was so careful not to risk catching anything, but that’s not really living.  The whole cliche of alive, but not living.  My particular anxiety was that I’d miss my friend Lauren’s surprise proposal since it was outdoors and the weather was raining.  I considered skipping it, but couldn’t bear the idea of missing something so important.  I don’t think I got ill from that event though, but it was such a great day that I think it’s worth getting sick for. One of the worst feelings is fomo, especially caused by something you have absolutely no control over, and is a repetitive cause.  There are still so many things I’m scared about in my future, like dying, and experiencing what I felt this week on a permanent basis.  But I also grew a lot in self-love and general life experience.

I don’t pray for luck or success, I pray for the motivation and inspiration to stay positive and gain success.  If I could have a fraction of Claire Wineland’s spirit, I would consider myself blessed.

 

A Lookback of 2018

A Year in the Life of Jasmine

Today, my friend asked me what I thought of 2018.  It’s interesting, because all I was thinking of was that Christmas was coming soon, and I needed gifts for certain people, but I forgot that it also meant we were approaching 2019, and every year, I’m not ready for it.

I couldn’t really think of anything on the spot to answer her besides ramble about my job, so I looked at my calendar.  Here are some of the main points in summary:

  1.  I spent most of last winter at home to protect my body, and I put myself through hours of SQL and R coursework everyday; it was discipline, but I’m glad at this point now that I paid for that Datacamp subscription and made the most out of it.
  2. Went to Harry Potter World with my family, which was one of the biggest destinations on my bucket list, so I was really happy with this vacation.
  3. April was when I tentatively started applying to jobs to really dig down on what I could qualify for.
  4. I had still been sort of going to fellowship at the time.
  5. When the lung transplant team had me go to see an infectious disease doctor at UPenn and finally drummed down on my antibiotics, and I began my daily courses of medication.
  6. I went on those few dates and actually made a genuine attempt to enjoy myself since my last and only relationship ever.
  7. Checked out SOJO Spa, a lesser to-do item on my bucket list
  8. Interviewed end of May for my current position, and got it.
  9. Was still regularly going to gym/therapy 
  10. Got my first gynecology appointment out of the way, was hella scary
  11. Mom went to Dubai, parents went to Peru, and my mom celebrated her 60th birthday in Taiwan, plus New Zealand- it’s a good year for her
  12. A couple friends got engaged
  13. Went to Princeton UXPA lecture to hear Google UX/UI director speak
  14. Am picking up skills in Excel
  15. Moonchi and Logan are both one years old ^_^
  16. Unfortunately, Trump is still a POS, but it’s one year less we gotta put up with that

Hibernation Season…

I’m sleeping too late these days.  But I find that this hour is usually the time I am most collected in my thoughts.

I was flipping through Time magazine because my friend didn’t want hers anymore, and there were some great recommendations for podcasts, books, and movies that I jotted down.  I read “Baracoon:  The Story of the Last ‘Black Cargo'” in one night because it was so addictive and startling in the first person recounting of the last apparent black slave to cross the ocean into America.  In his life, an individual not beating him meant he was a “good person”.  That was his life.  And as if watching his entire village murdered or enslaved, and then suffering discrimination and cruelty at the hands of people in a strange foreign land wasn’t enough, all 6 of his children died before him.  Thankfully, one of his sons left him some grandchildren so he wasn’t absolutely left alone.

The next book I’m reading is “The Sympathizer” by Viet Thanh Nguyen, which won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.  Both of these books I’d heard awhile back, but just never got around to.


Four updates:

  • my favorite co-workers got shifted across the room at work, so I’m pretty much left alone now in my cubicle, and it definitely feels more lonely now.
  • this week at work, there are raffle tickets, 5 distributed to each employee. Assuming there are around 300-400 employees and about 12 really great prizes to win (worth around $50-300 each), I suppose I have a 3% chance of winning one of them, and I can raise that a percent or two by donating some canned goods and increasing it to ideally 6%, although that number isn’t true since some will also be donating, others not.  We also don’t know who submitted how many raffle tickets in each prize box.  I rarely ever win anything, so I’d be ecstatic if I won $100 or either of the computers worth around $200+ each.
  • on both a plus and a minus side, most of my Black Friday purchases didn’t work out- either not quite comfortable (winter boots), or just not the right size.  The hair straightener seems pretty ineffective too.   I will say though, that the portable powerbank chargers are incredible buys, and I will be saving money on that mini splurge I did.  I have my brother and dad’s Christmas gifts down, but I’m still wondering what to get my bestie and my mom…
  • I learned how to do VLOOKUP in Excel on my own today, and I felt so accomplished LOL.  It didn’t make sense when my co-worker was trying to explain it to me, but once you actually understand what the formula is and what each step is, it’s quite easy. It feels satisfying to learn a new thing.  All the frustration and struggling makes it that much more worth it when you finally comprehend how it functions.