Ka Ka Ka Karma!!!

I’ve been wanting to write an article about Karma for a while, but I decided to hold off on it to really analyze and observe the world around me applying Karma to my life. My common sense definition of Karma is “What goes around comes around.” But to my surprise and recent research, I found out Karma is an Indian religious concept. Not only that, but it also has several definitions.

One definition of Karma is the concept of action or deed, understood as that which causes the entire cycle of cause and effect. It originated in ancient India and treated in Hindu, Jain, Buddhist, and Sikh philosophies.

Also, Karma is in contradistinction to faith advocated by Abrahamic religions such as Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, which view all human dramas as the will of God as opposed to present and past life actions. If practicing Karma in Hinduism beliefs, people have free will to choose good or evil and suffer the consequences, which require the will of God to implement Karma’s consequences. If practicing Karma in Indian beliefs, the Karmic effects of all deeds are viewed as actively shaping past, present, and future experiences.

Here are a few Karma quotes I came across in my research:

“O youth or young man, who fancy that you are neglected by the gods, know that if you become worse, you shall go to worse souls, or if better to the better… In every succession of life and death, you will do and suffer what like may fitly suffer at the hands of like. This is the justice of heaven.” ~ Plato

“Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.” ~ William Shakespeare

“Men may not get all they pay for in this world; but they must certainly pay for all they get.” ~ Frederick Douglas

“I'm a true believer in karma. You get what you give, whether it's bad or good.” ~ Sandra Bullock

My own personal belief in Karma is: “Do good. Then good things happen. Do bad. Then bad things happen.” ~ Me!

But then it got me wondering. Bad things happen to people all the time whether they do good things or not. If you are always good, does that mean that something bad happened to you because of something you maybe did in your past life? Do you believe in a past life? Or if you did something bad, do you keep in the back of your mind to track it and count that towards the Bad Karma you’ll probably receive in the future? If I live my life (the only life that I know of and the only life I have ever had) believing in Good Karma and doing good things left and right for the sake of only having Good Karma returned to me, does that mean I’m going to wonder like crazy and back track what bad thing I did to deserve Bad Karma if or when it hits me? Hmmm……Interesting……

I’m not so sure I believe my own Karma definition after all. But I will say this: Long ago in my trouble-some days in high school, I remember I stole a lipstick from a Rite Aid store because I didn’t want to pay for it. I had the money, but I didn’t want to pay for it. A few days later, my car wouldn’t turn on. Bad Karma? No, it couldn’t be. A couple months later, I saw a really expensive mascara I wanted and stole that too. A week later…….my car needed a new alternator. Bad Karma? Yea right!! Not too long after that I ran out of powder make up so I saw a nice one at Rite Aid and stole it too. What happened to my car? It needed a new starter!! Bad Karma? Um……yes I started to believe it was. I remember telling Andrea this “I can’t steal anymore make up.” She asked laughing “Why?” I said “Cause I can’t afford to fix my car anymore.”

I’m not so sure if my car breaking down after I would steal make up was the true calling of Bad Karma, but I do know that I don’t want to mess with it. And because it’s wrong to steal! Duh!! But I do believe that if you surround yourself with good things and good people, that good things will happen. Otherwise, why are they good? Good comes from good and bad comes from bad. It’s as simple as that. I’m very blessed to have good all around me with my friends and family. They are around me because I put them there and because I want them there. I can easily abandon everyone and I know I would fall apart without them. I cherish and appreciate each friendship and every bond I have with my family. Even if I’m 200 miles to 2 million miles away, they are my Good Karma. Do you believe in it? So let me leave you with an oldie but a goodie: “Treat others how you wish to be treated” because "Karma is a Bitch!" Thanks for reading!

For The Love of the Game

As I grow older and I see many of my classmates begin to move on with their lives and begin new chapters, I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing the same. I may not be moving in the same way they are, but I am moving on.

…..……….I think.

This past weekend, my best friend of 15 years, Andrea, came to visit to celebrate Halloween and her birthday as it falls on that holiday. Every year, my friends and I gather together in our best costumes and head out to Downtown San Diego for a little bar hopping. This year was just as fun as the ones before, however, I had a conversation with Andrea that struck a cord of curiosity. We were talking about having her move back to Oceanside (which I always try to convince her of because I miss her so much) but she is set on staying in Brawley. She tells me it’s time for her to grow up.

I didn’t take offense to what she said, but it got me thinking about my life and what I’m doing. Am I having too much fun? Do I need to settle down already? I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I don’t desire marriage nor do I desire having children. But I won’t say “never” because I believe there is a slight chance that one day the right kind of love will change my mind about everything. I believe it’s out there but I’ve never had it. The kind of love that blinds you and changes your whole world around. The kind of love that gives you a new perspective on life. The kind of love that alters your beliefs. The kind of love that not only makes you a better person but keeps you the same as you always were. And when you have it, you just know it’s going to last forever. That’s the kind of love that I’m hopeful for, but for now, I’m just having fun being me and weighing out the contestants.

And even if I never get it, I think I would still be hopeful for it because I’ve seen it with my sisters and with my parents. Even if I die at 100 years old without that love, I’ll always be hopeful for it. But I’ll never be waiting for it. I refuse to wait for it. Why would I? Why am I going to wait for something that might never happen? Imagine if I wait my entire life for that kind of love to happen, how much time I would waste. I want to do things for me, not for the person that could be with me. I want to plan and live my life according to me, and if it so happens that I meet someone along the way, then great!! But for now, I’m going to do what is best for me. And that is accomplish everything that I wish to accomplish. I want to pay off my debts, travel, teach in different countries, live in different countries, earn a masters, earn a PhD, write novels, write songs, write poetry, play my piano, play my dad’s guitar, sing all my songs, perform all my songs anywhere and everywhere, and sing everyday for the rest of my life. Ok so I already do that last one pretty much every day; however, I don’t want to be one of those people who wait around for love to come. Love doesn’t and shouldn’t control your life. Yes, it’s great if you find it and have it early on in your life like it happens to many people, but if you don’t have it now, then why waste your time waiting for it when you could be living your life to the fullest.

And while the trials and tribulations of dating can be harsh, I know that maybe someday that love will come. I have to feel that all the bull shit many people go through with the whole dating scene and the games people play is going to have to be worth it one day. Games like where someone will keep a person at an arm’s reach so that they don’t get too close nor get too far but just there enough to get you whenever they want. Or the repetitive pattern of “I’m sorry, it was a mistake. Come back. I’m sorry, it was a mistake. Come back.” I’ve seen it happen too many times with my friends and with myself. The player may think we don’t know the game, but we all do. We just have to be smart and strong enough not to fall for it. And it’s hard not to fall for it when it makes you feel so important and so wanted. It’s just like my friend said: “It’s a game where they make you feel so good that you feel like you’re flying and just when you’re about to touch the sky, they cut your wings and you fall hard getting hurt when you hit the ground. They apologize and say it was a mistake. But then do it to you again and you continue to fall for it.”

Sometimes I think that I am too hopeful for this kind of love to come into my life. Sometimes I feel like I get too hopeful to the point where maybe I have too high expectations. But I honestly would rather have high expectations, even if it dissapoints me when/if it doesn't work out, than to go into anything with a pessimistic attitude. I'd rather be hopeful than expect the least in someone. Why would anyone want to try anything expecting the least from someone? I'll always be the eternal optimist. Even in my darkest hour.

With all that said, I move on. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I care too much about myself to let anyone or anything hurt me. Because my life is in my control. And because one day all my dreams will come true.

One day……

Thanks for reading :o)

A Hidden Message?

I wrote this poem when I was going through something with someone and I think it can be kind of self explanatory. There are two ways to read it. One is left to right and the other one is....... well....... you figure it out :o)

Waves
You remind me of beautiful waves
Coming in on the sandy floor
Raging so strong, so powerful
All over the awaiting shore

Never ceasing to surprise me
Diving in and hitting so strong
Your inconsistent beauty confuses me
I wonder if I’m often so wrong

And just like the calm peaceful lakes
Mimicking waves subside and the current is slow
Hearing the soft ocean breeze
Enters a fear deep within below

A fear too often recollected
Responding to the calm waters I see
Triggering tears from our past
Breaking the heart within me

Rocks skidding across the waters
Over the stillness of your being
Keeping me at an arms reach
Entertaining yourself free willing

Never to question what it is I feel
Or bother to say where you’ve gone
The waves remain steady with silence
Like you, they remain so calm

However, before I know it
The waves rage again
I over indulge in your sweetness
As the waves start coming in

Such beautiful sounds blanket my ears
I resist the urge and try to transcend
Seeking the courage to say
This needs to stop and it needs to end.

By: Jessenia Lua

This other piece I wrote while sitting on a cliff watching the ocean and feeling the breeze across my face. Sometimes I feel like there's a higher power in the world that can guide you and give you signs that everything is going to be ok. So from that moment, I wrote this poem: Colors

From The Gray

Have you ever listened to the wind
Have you ever heard its haunting call
Do you let it catch your tears
Or do you just let them fall

If you close your eyes for a bit
You can hear what it wants to say
It may confuse you at first
But you’ll see colors from the gray

By: Jessenia Lua

Thanks for reading :o)

A Conversation

Growing up Catholic and always attending church every Sunday made me appreciate the faith in God I have today. I have stated before that in my adult life I consider myself a Catholic, but not a practicing Catholic. I’ll go to church for major holidays and maybe go during a random weekend with my family when I’m visiting Brawley (my hometown). But it’s very rare I attend while living in North County San Diego. But just because I don’t go to church every Sunday and call myself a non-practicing Catholic, doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in God or respect the Catholic church’s traditions. I understand that each religion has its own traditions, morals, and values. I respect that. However, a bit of a controversial subject has come up on more than one occasion. I remember the first time I ever spoke about this was with my college dorm roommate Kasey (pseudonym).

One night my two college dorm roommates and I were talking about sex and religion. Kasey had stated she was a born-again virgin and was going to stay celibate until marriage. I respected her for saying that, but I was caught off guard with what she said next. Kasey stated that with her new found faith in Christianity she was planning on staying celibate until marriage, but allows other acts of sexual pleasure with her partner such as oral sex. I really didn’t understand her statement for being celibate is the act of completely withholding from any kind of sex. She explained to me that (according to her) oral sex is ok as long as it's not intercourse. I still didn’t completely understand why oral sex was allowed and not intercourse, but I left it alone because it's her life and only she decides to live however she chooses. However, living here in North County and getting to know new friends in school or at other social gatherings, I’ve come to learn that many people who say they are Christians live by Kasey’s statement.

A few months ago I had this very same conversation with a friend of mine. Wanting to get a better understanding as to why oral sex is allowed but not intercourse in the faith of Christianity, the following text conversation took place between my friend David (pseudonym and an active Christian) and me.

Note: Text conversation is verbatim. Only changes made were grammar mistakes. Please hold your judgment on the conversation and just find the sense of humor behind it because I thought it was really funny!!

(David talking about a girl he was dating at the time)
David: She is waiting until marriage too. Has only gone as far as oral on a guy. Never had oral done on her. Only oral on two boyfriends.
Me: Why is it ok to do oral for you and not go all the way? You’re committing the same act just in a different hole!!
David: It is different. Intercourse is more intimate. Also, to avoid pregnancy. I think you shouldn’t do oral at all until marriage but it is hard to wait.
Me: It’s not different. In the sense of pregnancy - yes, but in the sense of intimacy and “not the same as sex” bull shit! It’s not! Your bodies are responding the same way whether orally or through intercourse. It is not a loop hole into saving yourself for marriage. You want to save yourself for marriage then don’t do anything at all. Saying that you’re saving yourself for marriage but doing oral is a big time contradiction. And the person is being a hypocrite. I think I might blog about this.
David: You do have valid points, but having someone inside you is more intimate. One has more of a broken heart if it doesn’t work out if they go all the way.
Me: You can do whatever you want. People don’t have to follow sex with their religion and are not obligated to. They could if they want. But it still doesn’t make sense because either way you’re “inside” someone (literally speaking).
David: You are right. I will just wait so I’m not a hypocrite.
Me: Too late. You can no longer say you’re saving yourself because you have said you’ve done oral. Now, instead, you should say you’ll stay celibate until marriage. And that’s the TRUTH!!! Muahhahahaha!!!
Me: Mr. Truth man!!
Me: What’s the matter? Did the truth scare ya? (at this point he hadn’t responded back and I was teasing him by calling him Mr. Truth man because he claims to only speak the truth out of whatever controversial arguments we have)
David: I’m still a virgin.
Me: That’s true. But sexually, you’re celibate.
David: I guess
Me: No you don’t guess. It’s the TRUTH HAHAHAHAHAAA!!!
David: What is the truth?
Me: That you’re no longer waiting to get married to be with a woman. You already acted in a sexual manner with one even though it wasn’t intercourse. You, my friend, are a virgin who is sexually celibate. But you’re only celibate if u decide to not engage in anymore sexual oral acts with women before your marriage.
David: Well I’m not going to do anything sexual until marriage.
Me: Good for you! But if you somehow give in and do some oral or even have sex, it’s ok. God isn’t going to be mad at you. Sex is as natural as the rain that falls!! Embrace it. You can keep your religion and have sex too ya know!
David: Ok, I agree with you.

So as you can tell from our conversation above, do what you want and believe what you want. I don’t really care if you’re a Christian who only allows sexual oral pleasure with your partner as long as it’s not intercourse because you think only oral sex before marriage is “ok.” I was only trying to prove a point to David because we often get into controversial arguments where he “thinks” I’m wrong. So be a Christian, be a Catholic, be a Baptist, be a virgin, or not. Just live your life however you want. I’m no one to judge. Oh but please be safe. Because if you catch something, you spread something!! Thanks for reading!!

A Conversation Part Deux

I don’t consider myself to be a hard-core feminist. I would say I’m mildly a feminist. I believe in women’s lib and women’s rights but I’m not as dedicated as some. My youngest sister, on the other hand, is by far a strong feminist and I’ve definitely learned a lot from her. I’ve never told her this but she has definitely inspired me to be a better person and a stronger woman. I have no idea where she got it from, being that she’s the baby of the family. Maybe it was from seeing our mother change into an independent strong woman after the death of our father. Either way, after studying Women’s Studies in college and seeing how far women have come, I will always be a supporter of strong independent women.

Another controversial conversation that took place between my friend David (pseudonym) and I was about the higher amount of women in colleges and enforcing affirmative action for men. Here what follows is that conversation verbatim. Only changes made were grammatical errors.

David: Since now there are more women in college and more women in law schools should there be affirmative action to help men?
Me: Hell to the NO!!!!
David: So it was ok when there was affirmative action for women?
Me: Yes because it was only a world dominated by men before affirmative action for women. Did you think anything was wrong?
David: Well now if women start dominating is that fair?
Me: Yes because then it would be an equally driven world.
David: So schools should deny women spots instead and put men in those spots?
Me: Just like marriage it should be equal to everyone even gays. But on schools people should be accepted based on qualifications, not gender.
David: So when men had better scores than women but because of affirmative action then men were denied was good? Liberal double standard again.
Me: Sounds like you’re saying that women aren’t intellectually respected. Sounds like u really have a problem with equality.
David: I never said women aren’t respected. I don’t have a problem with equality. You do. You don’t want schools to have the equal number of men and women.
Me: When men had the higher score back then it was because women were denied education, and now you’re getting scared because women are moving up.
David: Nope. I think that the best person should get the spot. Always did. You have changed your mind now that it benefits you.
Me: Changed my mind about what?
David: You believed in affirmative action. If it was done to put men and women at the same number you would be against it.
Me: No that’s not what I said. I believe in affirmative action to help women succeed and be equal in a male dominated world because women were always denied the rights of men.
David: So if women start dominating legal fields that is different than when men did?
Me: Yes because BACK THEN WOMEN WERE DENIED EDUCATION!!!! If the man doesn’t get a spot in any field today it’s because he wasn’t good enough!! THE WOMAN IS SMARTER!!!!

Looking back at this conversation, I can see two really stubborn people fighting for their sides and think it’s kind of funny!! But in all seriousness, I think it would be a really dumb and stupid idea to have affirmative action for men in colleges just because they are being out-numbered by women. I’m sorry if that offends anyone, but it’s just the way I feel. It seems like David didn’t understand my reason for supporting that. Women’s lib and feminism opened all the doors to opportunities women have today. Back when women were denied the right to vote and the right to an education, men dominated everything. What kind of affirmative action can be given to men when they have always had the right to do everything? If women are out-numbering men in colleges and in legal fields, it’s because they are smarter. Ok I know that totally sounds childish but it holds a little truth to it. I haven’t done the research so I can’t truly say that this is accurate but from what little I have read on the subject, it’s apparent that women do out-number men in colleges. Including the one I attended. I wonder why some men are threatened by that. Besides, many educational institutions are still run by men who set quotas to keep an equal number of men and women. And this is still a very male driven world. I wonder how many bruised egos I’ll get to make fun of when a woman president is elected. Oh well. I can dream can’t I?!! Thanks for reading!!

By the way, I really love this picture!

9 Years. Forgive?

Last Friday, the 24th of September, I woke with a feeling of something missing. I remember waking up, getting ready for work, and trying to find what was bugging me that I just couldn’t remember. Still confused, I got in my car to start heading for work and out of nowhere I began to think about a conversation I had with a friend a few days prior. Based on the conversation we were having, she told me that I must be a way more forgiving person than herself. It got me thinking about how I reflect myself towards others in moments of forgiveness.

When I got to work and parked my car, I pulled out my phone from my purse and looked on the date it read. Friday September 24th was my late brother Salvador’s nine year death anniversary.

I was immediately overwhelmed with memories and started reflecting back on everything that happened. I find it strange that even after all this time I still feel the same pain I felt when he passed away nine years ago. Throughout the whole day I kept thinking about Chava (his knick name). But it’s a funny thing because I can’t think about Chava without thinking about my late father Rafael who passed away in 1995. All day I kept thinking about both of them and kept wondering what life would have been like if they were still here.

There’s this one piece footage we have on video cassette of the two of them together singing. I’m sure by now my family members reading this know which one I’m talking about. If I had it with me, I would put it on here for everyone to see because it is the most endearing moment between the two them during that 1991 Christmas party. The camera was facing them, they were facing a few family members, and each had one of their arms around each other’s opposite shoulder. I don’t remember the Spanish song they were singing but they were both serenading the family. In sync and in tune, they stood there showcasing their talent when suddenly and coincidently they both get stuck on the same line of the song because they didn’t know the rest of it. They paused to look at each other and everyone busted out laughing. I don’t know how many times I’ve watched it, but everytime I do it still cracks me up.

For some reason that’s when I started thinking about me being a forgiving person like my friend had told me I was. That day I realized that maybe I am a forgiving person. Maybe I forgive more than I should. Maybe I give people too many chances. But I feel as though I learned to forgive in order to move on. I think I learned a lot about myself and grown tolerant of people when mourning the death of my brother and dad. I learned to forgive myself for not saying what I should have said to Chava or Dad. I learned to forgive myself for not spending more time with them before they passed away. I learned to forgive the details of my mistakes when they were alive. Otherwise, how the hell am I supposed to move on?! I think I have forgiven myself for a lot of things but I haven’t forgiven myself completely. And I don’t think I can. Who knows, maybe I never will. Maybe that’s why sometimes I feel stuck in that emotional fear and anxiety to losing a family member. To this day I still fear a single phone call from one of my sisters will be about someone dying in the family. As hard as that is to write, I admit it.

With Dad and Chava’s death, I remember every thought I had after they died. I was only 11 years old when Dad died, but I remember thinking about going to his gravesite at night. It was a few weeks after he died and I remember thinking about taking a shovel to his gravesite at night when no one was there, digging him up, open his coffin, and just hug him one last time. I knew he was dead and wasn’t coming back, but I wanted that last chance to give him one more hug. And the funny thing is, we all actually got a chance to do that at the hospital before the machines were taken away. But my last chance wasn’t enough.

When I was about to turn 15 and was planning my Quinceñera, I remember my sister Lupe taking me and my youngest sister to the cemetery to go see his gravesite. We usually went about once a week. We were there for a little while and when we were leaving I remember my sister Lupe telling me “When you walk down the aisle at church on your Quinceñera, make a little room for Dad so he can join you ok.” She didn’t see me because I turned away, but I couldn’t stop crying when she said that.

When Chava died, I remember feeling very scared. Everywhere I went and whoever I was with, I felt terrified. (I never told anyone and some of these thoughts are all going to be new to my family members reading this so I apologize to you guys if this triggers any old feelings.) I couldn’t identify what I was afraid of but felt fear itself. I remember being very quiet and waiting for him to appear in front of me. It had been a few days after he died and I remember lying down on my bed in my room one night just staring at the popcorn ceiling at my mom’s house. I was 18 years old and I remember thinking to myself “Ok Chava, where are you? Are you there?” I don’t know why but I waited and waited for him to appear out of nowhere as if that’s what is supposed to happen. I remember feeling certain that he was going to appear and I didn’t want to miss it. But he never appeared.

There’s still a lot I can say about Dad and Chava. But I would need more than the space provided here. For now, I’d like to keep them in my dreams and in my prayers. Thank you for reading.

EWWW!! What is that? Should I go to the hospital? DUHHHH!!!!

Whenever something wrong goes on in my life, I sometimes panic and don’t know how to handle my situations. But through all my dismay, I always seem to find the humor in life making things easier to deal with. I have to credit my friends and family who always make me laugh and put a huge smile on my face no matter how shitty any situation is. As most of you know, I was recently in the hospital this past July for five days due to an infected wound that came from an abscess which had popped but drained very slowly for four days. Yes that is totally gross and I will try my hardest not to make you gag haha!! During these five miserable days, I mentally documented the top ten funny and memorable moments that occurred during my stay at the hospital. And yes even the earthquake everyone felt.

Moment #10 – The IV:
Upon arriving at the hospital and looked at by doctors and nurses, it was apparent that I was going to need an IV set in my arm to start fighting the infection. I’m a huge cry baby when it comes to needles (just ask my best friend Andrea who has been there to witness my many tantrums whenever I got poked), so this experience was ironically funny to say the least, but painfully memorable. While in the ER room, the first nurse walks in, introduces herself, and attempts to put in an IV on my center left arm. She carefully wiggles the needle and can’t find a vein. She says “Sorry hun but I’m gonna try your other arm.” She proceeds to try my right arm and with a confused look on her face wiggles and wiggles the needle to find the vein. She takes the needle out, sighs in disappointment and calls another nurse. The next nurse enters, introduces herself with a big smile and attempts to put an IV on the inner part of my wrist. Biting my lips together, she digs in really deep to find the vein but can’t seem to get it. She pulls it out, apologizes, and says she’s going to try the outside part of my palm. That too was a failed attempt. So now they bring in the nurse that can always find a vein!! Nurse number 3!! Perky and really sweet, she introduces herself and says she will find that vein!! This time she tries the center part of my upper left arm. She wiggles and wiggles and finally says “Got it!” They quickly hook me up and squeeze in some liquid that will help show my insides in the CAT scan. I get sent to the CAT scan room but since it wasn’t ready, I was placed in a hallway with wall partitions and was told to wait there (see photo - reflection is of the hallway and in my "pretend room" haha!). About an hour later I was put through the CAT scan machine and after being scanned once, I hear the technician say “Can’t see anything. I don’t think the IV is hooked up to her vein.” I hear another technician say “Just scan her without it. They’re having trouble.” So now I go back to another ER room and nurse number 4 comes out to hopefully find a freakin vein!! This dude barely says a word. He grabs my left arm and finds a spot to try on my forearm. This one hurt the most. He dug in deep to find a vein and still nothing. Moves on to my right arm and still nothing. He sighs in disappointment, apologizes, leaves, and in comes a young very attractive doctor with an ultrasound machine. Person number 5 hubba hubba!! He introduces himself and says “Ok, hopefully we can find a vein with this machine otherwise we’re gonna have to put it in your neck.” As soon as he said that, my attraction to him whittled away and I quickly snap my head up to look up at him and yell “PLEASE FIND A VEIN!! PLEASE FIND A VEIN!!” As he scans my arm with the machine, he thinks he finds one and attempts to connect the IV. Unfortunately, he failed and walks away. I start to cover my neck with my hands as if to protect it from anyone puncturing it!! But then nurse number 6 comes in and says she wants to try one more time. She tries her very best on a new location of my arm but nothing. Tries on my other arm (this is probably the 15th time I had been poked) and still nothing!! Outside the hall I hear another nurse from her station yell “The Oncology Nurse said to stop poking her. They said they’ll find the vein and to just take her to her room.” Phew!! No IV in my neck please!!

Moment #9 – THE SCRAPE/SWAB :(
While the sixth nurse was attempting one more time to find a vein, another nurse comes in and tells me that I will have to be admitted because my wound was infected and has to take a sample of it. So I have one nurse digging a needle for the 15th time on my upper left shoulder, while the other nurse swabs and scrapes my open wound which grew to about three inches oval shape due to the infection. The moment I felt that swab/scrape go across my open bleeding with pus wound, I screamed as if my life was being taken a way from me!!!! That scream took no effort to come out. It had its own control. I did that breathy cry that sounds like someone is heavily hyperventilating and tears fell like a waterfall. It was just too damn much!!

Moment #8 – Oncology Nurse thinks she’s the bomb diggity:
Still without an IV, I was sent to my hospital room around 3am in the Oncology department. A nurse comes in to introduce herself and said she was going to place an IV in my arm. I told her good luck and please don’t hurt me!! I looked the opposite direction, felt a prick, and she says “all done!” I looked at her and asked “Really? You got it that fast? Everyone downstairs couldn’t do it. Not even a doctor!!” And in the thickest Mexican accent she said “Aye mija, es cos los de downstairs nurses son losers y no saben nada. If I wes da doctor, I wood be so embarrassed. I’ll be right back ok mija.” This nurse thought she was the shit after she found that vein. But hey, I wouldn’t blame her. She did what five nurses and one doctor couldn’t do haha!!

Moment #7 – The Morphine:
It had been about 10 hours since I had gotten to the hospital and no one had seen my wound other than the nurse in triage who just looked at it for a mere moment. I was lying in bed at around 7am when the first nurse came in to introduce herself and say that she will be checking my wound. She had heard how painful it was when they swabbed/scraped it and told me she was going to give me morphine to ease the pain before she cleaned it and bandaged it up. I’ve never been hospitalized and never done drugs so the feeling that morphine gave me was quite an unexpected experience. Let me tell you, this wasn’t as painful as the swab/scrape, but it was pretty close. Right before the nurse changed the bandage, she gave me a small dose of morphine. I don’t know why people like the stuff! I hated it!! It would give me a horrible headache and barely even soften the pain. I could still feel everything the nurse was doing. Only this time I was in pain in slow motion. However, the second time she changed the bandage, which was later on at night time, she gave me a little more morphine to help with the pain. This time, I was in a whole different world. I closed my eyes and made a frown because of the headache it would give me. I could feel the nurse opening the bandage and begin to clean my wound very slowly. I felt a slight sting and raised my left arm in mid-air to say very slowly in a calm voice “ssssssss oooouuuuucccchhhh.” I don’t know why but my arm stayed in mid-air for about a minute, I think, before I dropped it and fell asleep. About what seemed like an hour later, I wake up with both my fists over my face. I remember dreaming of butterflies and trying to catch them. Upon waking up, I was still high on the morphine and catching invisible butterflies!!

Moment #6 – A True Friend:
I had been in the hospital for about 16 hours when my best friend of 15 years came to visit me right after work. Oh my dear Andrea who has always been there for me. Now, this is probably too much information but it’s necessary to say because it signifies how great of a friend Andrea is. It was around 3 or 4pm when I finally got up to pee. I had been holding it in because my wound was so painful that it made it difficult to barely even move. With the help of my best friend, I slowly got up, she accompanied me to the restroom, and stood in front of me to make sure I wouldn’t fall. In front of her, I peed and was not even embarrassed. I had never done that before in front of her. And in her most sincerest but jokingly voice she said “Chena, if I have to…….I am willing to wipe you.” I started laughing and said “No thanks I can do it!!” Even though that action would have crossed a few lines in our friendship, she was still willing to do it. Thanks for being there Andrea :o)

Moment #5 – The Earthquake:
This moment in particular was especially hilarious because of how one of the nurses reacted!! I remember it was on a Wednesday around 3pm or so when Andrea was sitting next to me and a nurse came in to check my vitals. We were carrying on a friendly conversation when we felt a little rattle. I said in a calm voice because it didn’t scare me “oh, it’s an earthquake.” The nurse looked at me like she was about to say “Whaaaaat?!!!” But before we could say anything, everything rattled again for a bit longer and stronger. Andrea, who is terrified of earthquakes, was surprisingly calm. I was calm too. But the nurse……..well………the moment the second rattle hit, she dropped whatever she was holding in her hands, said in a terrified voice “SHIT!” and ran out of the room!! Completely forgetting about me or the 80 year old barely mobile woman whom I was sharing a room with!! Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine!!

Moment #4 – Oh Diarrhea!:
While at the hospital, I thought I was going to have the room to myself but there were two other patients sharing it with me. One was there on Monday and Tuesday but was gone by Tuesday night. The other patient was only there on Wednesday but dismissed later at night. Now, as everyone may know, I am a very friendly person and I like to talk to and meet new people. Both of these ladies just pretty much gave me the cold shoulder. I tried to talk to them, offer them control of the television, offered them magazines that my family and friends had brought me, and NOTHING!! The first patient that was there on Monday and Tuesday was a real snidely lady. I tried over and over to say “hello” but just got a “what the hell do you want” glance whenever she would pass my bed to use the bathroom. The other lady was nice and would say “hi” back but didn’t really care to talk to me. She must have been at least 80 years old and unfortunately couldn’t move much. This poor little fragile being couldn’t even get up to use the restroom so a nurse placed a portable toilet next to her bed. Now picture this: Our beds were approximately three feet apart. Her portable toilet took up about one foot of that space. It was placed on her left side of the bed next to her shoulder making it two feet away from my head. After my wound had been re-bandaged, I took a nap because the morphine would make me feel sleepy. Around 10am that Wednesday morning, I woke up to the sounds and smells of diarrhea coming out of this little old lady and into her toilet two feet away from me. There’s nothing I could do to stop the smell or the sounds. I quickly got out of my bed and sat on the chair that was next to the window. There was no way to open that window to get fresh air. As the lady continued to finish her business, I stepped into the restroom for some clean air. YES!! The restroom had clean air!! I come out a few minutes later and the whole room just reeked of diarrhea. I sit back on the chair and just deal with the smell. A minute later a nurse walks in to check on me and this is what she said “Hey Jessenia how are you do- ohhhhhh oooohhhhh!” She quickly jumps on the counter next to the chair that I’m sitting on and opens the window from the upper pane!!!! She gets down and calls a nurse to help the old lady. She leans down and whispers to me “I’m pregnant. So this smells ten times worst for me! Let’s hope this window brings in fresh air!!!” So because the old lady had intestinal problems, I was witness to her diarrhea four times that day. What a fun day (notice the sarcasm here).

Moment #3 – I’M OFF TO DIE!!!:
By the time Thursday came (fourth day) I was in a much better mood. My doctor had told me that surgery wasn’t necessary because the infection was going away. During my stay, I had two regular doctors. One was Dr. DucLé who was a general physician and the other was Dr. McCarthy who was the plastic surgeon and who was also in charge of deciding whether or not I was going to need surgery. I was surprised to see a third doctor that Thursday afternoon because I had already been there for four days and recovering well. I don’t remember the name of this doctor but because he had curly hair let’s just call him Dr. Curly. Dr. Curly came into my room right around noon time. He says he’s from the Disease and Infections Center and was there to look at my wound. I lay back to show him my wound and as he takes off the bandage to look at it, I begin to get a little nervous because he’s never seen me before. All the nurses and the two doctors had been very careful with me and making sure they don’t cause me any pain. I was about to tell Dr. Curly to not directly touch anywhere near or around my wound because it would be very painful and suddenly……..BOOM!!!! He touches the smack middle center of my wound making my body react by throwing my legs and arms up in the air and I let out a scream!!!! After my scream, I laugh in awkwardness and he apologizes. He calls in the nurse to change the bandage and he walks out. I never saw him again. The nurse changes my bandage and this time it felt like the first time. It seemed like all the nerves in my body just concentrated where my wound was and all I felt was nothing but burning pain. It felt like someone constantly had a flame to my skin and it wouldn’t go away. The nurse gave me morphine but it didn’t help. I laid there for about half hour with tears going down the side of my face and cringing my body the entire time. A few minutes later a man walks in and tells me that I need to get a picc line inserted and that I needed to get it at that moment. With a squished face and tears all over my cheeks I asked “Do we have to do it now?!!” He said yes and that I shouldn’t worry because he was going to wheel me on my bed to the area at the other side of the hospital and I wouldn’t have to move. Before he wheeled me out of my room the nurse came in to give me a couple more pain killers but nothing was working. This was probably the most physical pain I have ever experienced in my entire life. So picture this: a short little disorderly man pushing my big butt across the hospital in crying pain. I had tears coming down my face, my hands over my wound as to protect it from someone else touching it, and making little whimper crying sounds. I literally looked like I was off to die!! But luckily the pain killers helped and when my picc line was inserted I barely felt a thing. And yes I did complain about Dr. Curly. A lot!!!!

Moment #2 – The Nurses:
I can’t write this blog without mentioning how wonderful my nurses were. Each and every one of them was exceptional! Especially the first nurse I had who was Olivia. She was very friendly, sweet, and took really good care of me. I think I had about seven different nurses and if I could, I would send all of them flowers for the wonderful job they did. I swear I saw my two doctors there for a total of ten minutes each. But these nurses spent hours with me making sure I was ok. I wish they would get more credit for the wonderful work they do!

Moment #1 – Everyone:
Despite my painful experience at Tri-City Medical Hospital, I must say that I really enjoyed everyone’s company who came to visit me. Andrea, my best friend of 15 years, was there every single day. She even washed my hair in the bathroom sink because I kept complaining how dirty it felt (I wasn’t allowed to shower). And trust me! Washing this long and tangled mane was not easy. My dear Karlita, who I’ve known for so many years, drove all the way from Brawley just to see me for a few hours. I feel very blessed to have her as one of my closest friends. Jorge, who I met in school, and who I always have something to talk about with. Put us together and we’ll never run out of things to say to each other. Thank you for coming. Felipe who is my now roommate and who I met a little over two years ago when we were both attempting to live alone but figured we’re better off together. Always makes me smile and makes me laugh. Thanks for being a wonderful friend. To my favorite co-worker Linda Davis who I met while working nights and weekends at Rite Aid. I love your sense of humor and your wit!! You crack me up all the time!! You are so kind-hearted and even though there is quite an age difference between us, I consider you one of my closest friends. Thank you for coming to see me. To the Tanoris!!!! Melissa, Marissa, and Clarissa!!!! You girls have the biggest and kindest hearts!! You girls are so sweet I swear you are angels. Thank you for visiting me angels. Marybel, Vanessa, and Guano (Johana). You three are something else!! I feel like I wouldn’t be me without all three of you. I swear I never stop laughing when I’m around you three. We have stories that go way back and I hope to have many more with you. And to my family and the rest of my friends, thank you for all the phone calls. I know I told you not to come because I kept thinking I was going to leave the next day but had you known that I was going to be there longer, you would have came to visit. I know because you guys told me haha!! Everyone’s concern, prayers, visitations, and phone calls really made me appreciate all the love and blessings I have in my life. Thank you for everything.