Prescription Drugs: Not sweet as candy.

Just recently while watching TV, I couldn't help but notice how much air time prescription drug commercials receive. Also, have you ever noticed how long some of those commercials are? Oh, and it's kind of hard to ignore the long list of side-effects that are thrown in right before the commercial ends, usually a deep and persuasive male voice giving off an educated vibe recites them...know what I mean? You almost want to believe that all those side-effects are, in fact, rare, as the companies claim. Then you actually take the drug and start wondering if maybe, just maybe, more than 5% of people suffer from the symptoms you're experiencing because...well...you feel like crap, and this time a deeper shade than before.

The prospect of feeling better with one of these supposed "miracle drugs" is quite tempting, believe me, I know! But, just hold on, upon taking the drug, whatever it may be, you might actually start noticing a change in the way you feel...oh, but it's a change for the worse, my friend! Been there, done that. Some of the symptoms are actually more threatening or bothersome than whatever the medications are supposed to treat and alleviate. Funny, didn't mean to make reference to an aspirin pill right there; I don't have too many hard feelings against over-the counter pills...then again, even Tylenol can cause LIVER DAMAGE if your system entertains its presence for more than a few days out of the month.

Now here's the kind of story you won't hear advertised during the break right before you find out if Ditsy Dorthy is gonna continue dating that loser guy who doesn't have an ounce of redeeming qualities to his name (sorry, can't stand those dating shows)...

(Cue the violins!)
There was a time I had a gallbladder, you might've known me in those days. I actually felt far from geriatric, this was way before I took the time to notice what AARP advertisements had to offer their social security collecting customers. Ah, yes, and my gallbladder: it was lean and healthy, the perfect shade of some random Crayola color name, somewhere between Oscar the Grouch green and Big Bird Yellow. It pumped bile like no other gallbladder; my food digested fabulously...that means, no signs of bloating or nausea. Then (DUN DUN DUN!) in high school I started taking this very popular but nasty pill that contained something funky known as ESTRADIOL, aka birth control. And why did I take that pretty pink pill? Because I had ovarian cysts, and a nice cocktail combo of estrogen and progesterone was supposed to knock those suckers right out. And it did...but it also destroyed the precious life of my formerly functional gallbladder. Then I had no choice but to have it removed, or risk developing gallstones and liver damage.
That's my tragic story, but, please, read on.

I was young and naive when I first started ingesting those horrible hormones. You know that little pamphlet of informative facts that comes along with your prescription drugs? READ IT! IT'S THERE FOR A REASON. I had no idea that individuals were put at a higher risk of developing gallbladder disease if they took the pill. I was the perfect candidate for such an illness too! My mother, grandmother, and great grandmother all had to have their green little gallbladders removed.

There's a lovely saying that goes: A wise man learns from the mistakes of others, a smart man learns from his own mistakes, and a fool never learns. I'm not completely trying to destroy the credibility of every prescription drug out there. I know so many people these days that want quick relief for whatever is ailing them, but I doubt they ever stop to consider whether or not popping pills is actually wise. I understand there are certain medications whose benefits actually outweigh the costs, take inhalers prescribed to asthmatics, for instance. I am grateful for medical advancements; thank God for the existence of antibiotics that destroy common bacteria like strep. I know I certainly wouldn't be here ranting and raving if it weren't for that pink bubblegum flavored medication commonly prescribed to children with infections. Yes, Penicillin, I thank you for sparing the lives of both the young and old. But even though it might've tasted like it came out of a grocery store candy machine when it was given to me as a kiddo, Penicillin is not something meant to satisfy a sweet tooth, so we shouldn't treat it or any other prescription drug as if the worst thing they'll cause is an unpleasant visit to the dentist office followed by a few root canal appointments.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

...And, of course, the title of this entry is taken directly from the first line of one of my favorite books, A Tale of Two Cities. Like that very wordy piece of literature, my life is drenched with tiny details; the descriptions drag on some times, but I've decided they add to the beauty of the entire piece, the composition of my life. I'm seriously waiting for a moment of rest, though...when is the author going to give me a break and lay-off the minuscule details? God reminds me of Charles Dickens, or maybe I should say Charles Dickens reminds me of God. He's up there with a pen in hand, like the creative author he is, leaving me wondering how, exactly, this particular chapter in my life is going to end...but I'm sure somewhere written in its lines is the phrase: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

I am trusting that things will get better, but at the same time, I am not dumb, and every day I give thanks for the way things are. As quirky as that sounds, there are many things to be thankful for in spite of the few sticky situations. I can walk, talk, write, create, imagine, hope for better times, learn from the bad times, and even talk about God or any other religion openly without having to worry about persecution: freedom is beautiful and I am free. Still, that's a fact I quickly forget when I begin victimizing myself as Debt's property.

Yes, I am in debt up to the wazoo. I wouldn't even be surprised if I owe you money...yes, dear reader, you, wherever you are. Just kidding. It isn't that bad, but if you know me, you understand how I tend to throw in a little humor before I even start thinking of throwing in the towel. Here's the not so shiny side of the coin: I don't have a job, my last boss forced me to resign because she didn't want me missing work (this was during my pre-gallbladder removal days) and, if you've been keeping up with this blog, you'd understand that I still have many doctor appointments lined up (I'm still trying to figure out what's wrong with my crazy digestive system that negatively overreacts at the presence of any kind of food). It's all really quite weird; physically, I definitely don't feel 22, and that's been the trend the past few months. Believe me, I've been grasping at straws trying to figure out how I can get a job, one that would allow me to work from home (those are not easy to come by!). My parents have their own issues to deal with, so they aren't helping out, my grandma has really been supportive...and Jose's also been a real champ, helping me out however and whenever he can. But those two wonderful people can only do so much. Even when Jose and I start wearing the rings that represent our lifelong partnership together, I still don't want him to be the only one "bringing home the bacon". He already has to worry about getting ready for law school, and finishing up this final year of college, the last thing I want is more stress for him...the thought of that stresses me out even more, and I'm sure that just contributes to my debilitating gastric condition.

Some days it's easy to see that life is good. I have enough to make it, including an abundance of love. Other days, the pain brought about by that unsettling feeling in my gut really knocks me out of my senses, and I'm not sure how I'm gonna be able to tolerate another day of pain. Then the thought of my college debt and medical bills enters my weary little head, and the overly-dramatic Sophie comes to life like a modern-day Frankenstein. This is just the raw truth, no need for sympathy on your part. It's been really tough lately, but somehow I always get over the humps, never alone, though...and that's what makes me just like everyone else sitting behind their laptop/computer screen reading these lines.

Update time

These past few weeks have been busy. Jose took the LSAT a little over a week ago, and we find out his score probably some time late next week! He studied so hard for that exam, I'm sure he did well. We've both been getting ready to move to our new apartment. We've found some pretty great buys as far as furniture goes, just checking out estate sales and thrift stores. Our humble abode will definitely have that homey/eclectic look to it. I'm also thinking about fixing up a couple of the items we purchased, it's on my "to do" list for the summer; I've always wanted to do that sort of thing.

It seems like so many things are happening at once! We went to Houston this weekend to celebrate Jose's birthday with his family, and we recently added another guinea pig to our own little growing family! We decided to name the little guy Yoshi, it seems to go well with Mochi. Sadly, it seems the two aren't getting along very well, they're both feisty dominating males eager to fight over their "territory" (or their side of the cage). We're hoping they eventually become friends, seeing that guinea pigs tend to get along better in pairs...but it could just be that their personalities don't mix.

It's been awhile since I've updated. As of late, I've been thinking more about how it seems time is going by faster, especially as I get older...and, boy, do I feel old. I'll be getting married soon...I AM OLD! But, of course, no big wedding. With law school coming up, undergrad debts/medical bills to pay off, and general living expenses to worry about, there isn't much change to spare for much else, but I don't mind one bit. Jose and I both agree that it's better to have a "traditional" wedding once he's out of law school and we're financially well-off. For now, we're keeping it small and simple, uncomplicated but definitely still meaningful.

In other news, I'm still trying to figure out why my gut has been acting up ever since my gallbladder was removed (it's so annoying!), but thank God I'm able to get out a tad bit more than before. Even though things have been kind of rough financially over the past few months, things seem to be falling into place without falling apart!

Thinking outside the circle

Seriously, what's going on? Why is it that so many people are lacking substance these days? No sense of value, no idea of passion, all for the superficial, the pursuit of not-even ephemeral happiness; just pure mediocrity and selfishness.

Gossip obsessed conversations empty of any sentence that would leave anyone feeling uplifted, Cosmo magazine inspired lifestyles centered on superficial "beauty" and dysfunctional "relationships", not to mention consumerist-suburban-mall-shopper attitudes driven by a me-first mentality...these nasty things exist in any and every social circle, from outside church corridors to the dining halls of all-girl dormitories.

I've met a lot of people growing up, it's kind of expected being the stepchild of someone who was in the military. Everywhere I go, it's pretty much the same thing. Every now and then I'll meet someone who makes me grateful to call them a member of my same species, but other times, I carry on a "conversation" with some and, upon its conclusion, I seriously feel I have more in common with an animal! And I say it like that instead of the other way around because, seriously, I think animals have more dignity than some humans; even if they aren't ashamed to poop in public without a roll of Ultra Soft Charmin nearby. On that same note, sometimes I think there isn't enough toilet paper to clean up all the crap that figuratively comes out of the mouths of the mindless and emotionally dead. This isn't even a matter of intelligence, it's more along the lines of wisdom. You don't have to be a genius to understand what it means to lead a meaningful life that resembles something other than a processed, preservative-filled frozen TV dinner. This isn't even a criticism of certain interests or pastimes, those are just a reflection of what's there, or not there. There are more important matters that need to be considered in order to arrive at the source of the problem.

What makes you YOU? What sets you apart, is there anything? Have you ever even stopped to ask that question? Or are you far from thoughtful, not even close to understanding what's meaningful because you're consumed with worry over being accepted by whatever group you're a part of? Are you like a Barbie doll, a plastic product of pop culture; fake and fabricated from a disturbingly familiar but over-used mold? If you were flipped inside-out, would anyone find you beautiful? If you lost everything tangible, would there be any virtue left to keep you rich? Do you have any genuine peace, anything that holds onto you when you feel like letting go? Would God find your soul sincere? Even having to ask these questions is disappointing, because I know most would view them as hypothetical, with the possibility of being considered answerable only by those who are part of an intellectual, enlightened, or even religious crowd.

Despite our differences, whether they be religious, cultural, etc., there are a few desires our souls share. We all seek to be understood and loved; in finding acceptance we can better have both of those desires met. The problem is, we so often mistake a fraud for the real thing. Pretty soon, though, we become fraudulent too; we develop an unhealthy ability to deceive ourselves into thinking we've found something meaningful when we haven't. Then, when faced with questions that force us to examine who we are, whether a thoughtful moment alone or a stranger throws them at us, we defend our honor, even if there isn't much to defend. We say we're right so many times that, eventually, we come to believe our lies are true. That's how psychology works.

There are many social groups we can join that'll give us a generic sense of belonging, but very few of those groups have people that genuinely belong to themselves. Usually, one "type" dominates and the rest are forced to submit; they become part of the "collective" in fear of losing that place of belonging due to their differences (Yes, I used to watch Star Trek and I stole the term from them!). So they stifle their individuality and acquiesce, no longer caring about anything, really. They get so self-absorbed, since their primary focus rests on remaining a part of the group, being just like everyone else, that they don't even care about the individual members. And, of course, no one dares to ask the bigger questions, because answering them would require reflection, and asking them would require thinking outside of the box, or social circle in this case. In order to be reflective, though, you must have some idea of who you are...but when you lose yourself in adopting some other person's way of being, even if it goes completely against who you were before, you no longer have the freedom to do that. You may have found a pseudo sense of belonging, but you've lost your identity in the process, and if you don't even know who you are, how can you love yourself? And don't you have to love yourself before you can love anyone else? Now tell me, at that point, can you really call life meaningful?