Monday, 06 April, 2015
#DailyWings: “Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others.”
Blogging From A to Z is an annual month-long challenge in which bloggers around the world are invited to write a blog post every week day for the month of April, with each day corresponding to a letter in the alphabet (26 week days = 26 letters). For this year’s A to Z challenge, my theme is personal anecdotes, or “childhood memories.”
I started having vision problems toward the end of fifth grade when it became too difficult to read the dry erase board in Mrs. Garcia’s math class. The equations were fuzzy and, more often than not, I had to squint my eyes to clearly see anything that was far away.
It wasn’t until I took that routine eye exam at school – the one where you have to read letters with one eye open and move a step back after every reading – and realized my vision was no longer excellent that I admitted to my parents that maybe it was time for me to see an optometrist.
My first pair of glasses had thin, pink frames that were oval, like my eyes. I picked them out for myself because I thought they looked sweet, feminine and innocent – all adjectives I wanted to be (or at least appear to be) back in sixth grade. In some ways, I prided on being a kid with glasses because I felt like they made me look smarter, or at least well-read. I did – and still do – attribute my sub-par vision to late nights spent under the covers with a flashlight and good book (sometimes, I’d hide away in my closet).
Friday, 12 December, 2014
#DailyWings: “Taking care of yourself is the most powerful way to begin to take care of others.” ― Bryant McGill
Originally, I wasn’t going to blog about this. I’d already talked enough about being sick and taking time off from work and blogging to focus on getting better. But until recently, I’d once again forgotten how important it is to take care of oneself – both mentally and physically.
You’d think because I have a disability and acid reflux and a much lower physical tolerance for, well, everything that I’d learned to appreciate my own body more. But nope. I like to push myself with deadlines and check boxes and lots of projects all at once (smart, right?). Somehow, having too much to do is the only way I can compel myself to get anything done. You might know what I mean if you naturally thrive in fast-paced environments with high pressure and lots of stimuli.
Though we might be more productive, we’re not doing our personal well-being any favors. It’s not until your wrists start to ache from hours of typing and your throat starts to feel scratchy and your eyes start to droop from lack of sleep that you finally realize the truth: I have limits.
Friday, 05 April, 2013
#DailyWings: “Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
A few weeks ago, my ethics professor forwarded to our class an article from The Daily Tar Heel about a new student organization that promotes disabilities awareness, Advocates for Carolina. I was so incredibly happy to hear that a group had been created for students who must find alternative ways to live, and joined without hesitation.
What I love most about UNC-Chapel Hill is that there’s something for everyone — a major, an organization, an outlet for self-expression. I felt welcome since the first day I arrived at Carolina; never before had I been a part of such an accepting community. In particular, North Carolina Fellows has taught me how to be comfortable with myself. I’ve learned that sharing my story doesn’t push people away; often, doing so brings me closer to them.
But as one of those students who has lived with the “disability” label for years, I’d always felt there was one other thing missing from my college experience: a space in which to share my story and learn from others in similar situations. Advocates for Carolina has filled this void. We emphasize on accessibility, advocacy and awareness. We seek to remove stigma, educate others about disabilities and provide each other with validation. Although we may live with different circumstances, this community reminds each of us that we aren’t alone.
Friday, 22 March, 2013
#DailyWings: “It is better, I think, to grab at the stars than to sit flustered because you know you cannot reach them.”
— R.A. Salvatore, Sojourn
I used to be one of those people who said they’d never go on any sort of diet because of how much they love food. Well, the latter still applies to me: I love to eat. (Who doesn’t? In the end, no matter how terrible your day is, pepperoni pizza and cookies and other comfort food will always be there for you.)
But since coming to college, I’ve developed a bad habit of eating junk like processed edibles, unhealthy snacks and fatty meals because of the convenience. And, let’s face it, junk food tastes pretty good. I was lucky enough to avoid gaining the “freshman 15,” but having a fast metabolism doesn’t necessarily equate to top-notch health, nor does it last. Earlier, it hit me that I’m going to be 21 years old in a couple months — well into adulthood — and, unfortunately, can’t eat whatever the hell I want anymore.
Friday, 17 August, 2012
#DailyWings: “My mom says some days are like that. Even in Australia.”
-Alexander & the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst
Fluorescent light burning in your eyes. The taste of rubber gloves in your mouth. The strange vacuum sensation on your tongue when a resident holds the suction tube too close.
Okay, so I won’t lie and pretend that I don’t shed a couple tears at the dentist’s. Because I do. I don’t even realize how incredibly uncomfortable I am until there’s a tiny, metallic engine drilling against my teeth. At that point, acting my age is the least of my worries and I am holding on to the rail for dear life, praying to the gods that it will be over soon.
Today, I got three fillings – one on the bottom, two on top. (Not exactly a welcoming event after a dream trip to Boston.) Ever since I was little, my teeth have been prone to cavities. I brush twice a day, floss nightly and don’t eat a lot of sugar. I don’t drink coffee or soda or tea (only on occasion). I do everything a responsible tooth-owner should do. Unfortunately, my dentists have said I can attribute my soft teeth to genetics. Not even drinking milk will help.
The thing is, I haven’t been to the dentist in years. This time around, I knew there would be a degree of, er, unpleasantness, but I didn’t really prepare myself for just how much it sucked. The worst part was having my gums injected–like, using a needle–with anesthesia. It really, really hurt. The only good thing is, that was the first step they did so I got it over with pretty quickly.
Wednesday, 17 February, 2010
As I have mentioned in past blog posts, I work for my high school’s student-run newspaper. This semester, I serve as the Production Editor and write for the Opinion section. Our first issue of the semester comes out next Thursday…here is the article I wrote on how much texting while driving sucks:
“Texting While Driving Sucks”
(official title to be determined)
You twiddle your fingers on the steering wheel while sitting in your brand new Lexus on the intersection between Candy Lane and Cellular Drive*. The red light has not changed for two whole minutes, and you are growing impatient.
Suddenly, a loud ding! causes your heart to skip a few beats. You scramble around your pocket, pull out that must-have Blackberry and look up just in time to catch a glimpse of the green-glowing stoplight signaling Go.
Before pressing down on the gas pedal, you glance at the phone and notice a text that your BFF Sally sent, asking you about your last cruise to the Bahamas. Um, there is no question about it. You HAVE to text her back. Now. Never mind that this particular intersection is one of the dangerous ones in town. Never mind that you witnessed a car accident only last week, which caused you to be late for school. I mean, who wouldn’t want to break their neck from texting while driving?
Friday, 05 February, 2010
“We tend to forget that happiness doesn’t come as a result of getting something we don’t have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have.” –Fredrick Keonig, German inventor of high-speed printing press
There is a woman that I know very well.
She grew up in Wisconsin and now resides in the same town I do in North Carolina. Although she never went to college, she studied to become a realtor and also attended nursing school. She lives with nobody but her one cat and one dog, both whom she loves very dearly. In her spare time, she enjoys gardening and taking care of her chestnut/apple trees, gladiolas, and the other beautiful plants that are so dearly tended over in her backyard. My friend absolutely loves food, especially ice cream. She is a playwright, nurse, and founder of the Recovery Room Players Christian acting group. She is the most religious person I have ever met.
On Wednesday, the doctor told her that she has a brain tumor. A few days beforehand, she discovered a lump on her temple and immediately scheduled an appointment with her doctor. After taking X-ray after X-ray and scan after scan (“Every organ in my body has been searched!” she exclaimed), it was confirmed that my friend has a brain tumor. The doctor will remove the tumor by surgery within just a few weeks and study it for any malignancy. When she told me all of this yesterday, she had a genuine smile on her face.