Hope on the Horizon

Many of you may have already heard about this from my Facebook page. Since some of you are not on Facebook much, I thought I'd share it here, too.

A new discovery is making news in the medical and scientific communities. Scientists have identified a new virus that is linked to CFS (as well as fibromyalgia and autism). While it is being reported with cautious optimism, the authors of the study are pretty confident that his may be the answer that has eluded so many people for so many decades. XMRV is a retrovirus that is similar in many ways to HIV. Because of all the work that has been done on HIV, researchers feel that we should be able to find effective treatments for it relatively quickly. They are also hopeful for a vaccine. A commercial test for the virus is expected in about a month.

Two and a half years ago, when I was about a year into this illness, my dad gave me a blessing. I remember it distinctly. He said in the blessing that 1. I would be diagnosed; 2. a treatment would be available; and 3. I would be healed completely. After the blessing, I confidently went back to my doctor for months of more tests. Everything came back negative, and I was so disappointed. I had to remind myself that sometimes things happen on the Lord's timetable, not on ours. So, I settled in to wait. Like most of you, I thought that maybe CFS was in interim diagnosis, that the doctors missed something, and that some brilliant doctor would some day discover the "real" reason I'm sick. Maybe, just maybe, my waiting is close to being over.

Hope is a dangerous thing. As I've thought about it since the news broke last week, my mind keeps wandering to thoughts I never allow myself to have. If I get healed, my kids can have birthday parties again. I can clean my house, even scrubbing the toilets and showers and mopping the floors. I can invite Nikki and Shandee over for a casual little get together. I can volunteer to host our book club at my home. I can take the kids to a pumpkin patch and let them choose their own pumpkins. I can help them carve the pumpkins. I can walk with my kids around the neighborhood to trick or treat. I can start substitute teaching and get the ball rolling to become a middle school science teacher. I can take walks with my husband in the evening. I can stay up and watch stupid sitcoms on TV and go to bed with him instead of hours before. I can stay up past midnight talking with my daughter when she comes home from college. I can drive down to visit family even if my husband is working!

I can sit with my family during Sacrament meeting and listen to wonderful talks ... or boring talks ... or mediocre talks. I can go to Sunday School when my husband is teaching. I can sneak into nursery when he's not. I can go to Relief Society again. I can share my brilliant insights with the sisters! I can hear the announcements. I can sign up to volunteer when someone else needs service.

I can exercise! I can get in the water at the beach, go out past the breaking waves, and swim until my arms ache. I can do situps and yoga and belly dance. I can get on the computer as a reward for getting things done, not because it's the only thing I have enough energy to do.

Ah. See? Hope is a dangerous thing. It makes me impatient.

This is a great interview with the people who discovered the virus. The ads are annoying, but it's worth wading through them.

http://nevadanewsmakers.com/video/default.asp?showID=938

Because If I Didn't Laugh, I Would Cry

Some days are just crappy. So, to combat, I find fun and funny wherever I can. Here's a gem Kyara introduced me to:

People Of Walmart

www.peopleofwalmart.com

Anyone look familiar?

Romney's Big Adventure

Maybe it was a feeling of foreboding, or a premonition on Tuesday, but I started the day in a terrible mood! An elderly customer helped improve my mood slightly, but I really didn't want to be at work that day. Be careful what you wish for!

Just after 1 pm, I got The Phone Call that every mother with a boy knows they are bound to get someday. Romney told me he had just been in a bike accident. I asked if it was bad, and he said yes -- there was blood all over, he thought he had broken his nose, and he had lost a tooth.

Well, that was enough information to get me to close down the store for the rest of the day! When I found him, he was disoriented, bloody, and in a lot of pain. We ended up spending the rest of the day in the emergency room.

Here's what happened. Rom Sr. had jury duty that day (curse you, our jury system!). I would be at work. I could handle the morning carpooling, and I had the afternoon carpooling taken care of, but there was one problem left. Romney Jr. leaves HAAAT after lunch to go to Hemet High for swim and water polo, and I usually drive him. He thoughtfully suggested that, just this once, he could ride his bike to Hemet High. It seemed like such a good idea at the time! Since it was not our usual routine, it did not even occur to me to check for and insist on a helmet.

Romney started off after lunch and made it just past the busiest street in Hemet. The bike he was riding has a quick release for the front tire, and apparently someone had been messing with it, unbeknownst to us. The front wheel came off, and Romney went right over the handlebars, planting his face in the asphalt. He was very lucky that another bike rider came by right about then. Romney was wandering in circles in the middle of the street; the bike rider helped get him out of the street and over to a dentist's office where he could be taken care of while he waited for me.

He was so disoriented! I'm amazed that he had the presence of mind to remember that Rom was at jury duty and I was at the store. I'm amazed he was able to remember the phone number. I'm amazed he was able to tell me the cross streets where he was waiting.

We were so lucky (blessed) that it wasn't worse than it was! He had abrasions all over his face. He had one laceration on the bridge of his nose that didn't need stitches (they super-glued it). His nose suffered only a hairline fracture. He was wearing his favorite sunglasses, and they were destroyed, but they protected his eyes from damage. He broke one tooth that we were able to have repaired the next day. He'll still probably need a root canal done on it when he's healed more. Most of the rest of his teeth have been jostled around a bit, but the dentist said they should move back into place with normal biting and chewing.

He'll probably have a few more scars on his face. I told him that since he's such a handsome boy, he must have been trying to level the playing field a little.

I hope that's the last injury for this boy! I'll be amazed if he makes it to adulthood.

Wordless Wednesday (Sorry It's So Dark!)

Kyara's Big Date

OK, I know I have a LOT to catch up on, but I thought I would share with you Kyara's first date at BYU! I'm a little fuzzy about some of the details, so if I get anything wrong, Kyara will have to correct me in the comments.

Kyara met a boy and talked with him a bit on Facebook. He wanted to take her out, so she decided to give him a chance. The first thing he asked is if she looked as good in person as she does in her Facebook picture (it's this one -- isn't she gorgeous?). She told him, no, she only gets done up like that for special occasions. He asked if she would get dolled up like that for her date, and she said, no, curling her hair like that is too time consuming.

They decided on a lunch date. He wanted her to come over to his house while they decided where to go and what to do, but she declined. So, they decided they would go to the mall.

When he arrived and got out of the truck, Kyara noticed that he was a little on the short side. He was wearing a pink polo shirt (apparently he didn't pull it off as well as Romers does!). Her first impression was that he reminded her of an arrogant high school acquaintance that she dislikes.

After being at the mall for awhile, he asked Kyara if she was hungry and if she would like to get something to eat. She said yes. He then told her that he didn't have any money. So, Kyara bought her own meal and ate it while he sat there and watched. When she was full, there was still some of her meal left over. He said, "So you're just going to let that go to waste then?" And she said, "Yes, I guess I am." He then told her to go get him a fork. She responded, "What, am I your biatch?" Although, I think she left out the "a". He said something (I don't remember what) and Kyara rolled her eyes in his face.

Kyara didn't take the opportunity to end the date there. He suggested they walk around for awhile. They did. At the end of the date, he asked if they could do this sometime again! She told him no.

Can I just say that I am so proud of how I raised my daughter right now? There is one more strong Proffitt woman out in the world right now. I am feeling really reassured that Kyara will be able to hold her own in the dating world at BYU. You go, girl!

Because You Wouldn't Click the Link ...

All right, this is for my SISTERS, because I know my sisters are soooo going to love this! I posted the link below, but you were too scared of the bad words, so I am editing them out. Here is the PG version:

An Open Letter to James Thatcher, Brand Manager, Proctor and Gamble

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your Always maxi pads for over 20 years, and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core™ or Dri-Weave™ absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from "the curse"? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my "time of the month" is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call "an inbred hillbilly with knife skills." Isn't the human body amazing?

As brand manager in the feminine-hygiene division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers' monthly visits from Aunt Flo. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend's testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy! The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in capri pants. Which brings me to the reason for my letter.

Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: "Have a Happy Period."

Are you f*ing kidding me?

What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness—actual smiling, laughing happiness—is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything "happy" about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlúa and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreens armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory. For the love of God, pull your head out, man. If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like "Put Down the Hammer" or "Vehicular Manslaughter Is Wrong"? Or are you just picking on us?

Sir, please inform your accounting department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flexi-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull*t. And that's a promise I will keep. Always.

Best,

Wendi Aarons
Austin, TX

Sense of Humor?

I lost one more pound today ...

in my BOOBS!

Really, God? Is it that funny?

Gavin's Turn

Gavin tells me, "Dad told me this story about when he was a teenager, like 32 or maybe 24, and he was wrestling, and there was this guy who was 185 pounds, and he SNAPPED his arm. It was just dangling in the skin."

Gavin informed me today that there was a freckle on his "privates." "Oh," I said. "How did the sun get down there?"

"The sun causes freckles?" he asked. "Yep," I answered. Sheepishly, he said, "I have no idea!"

Gabe-isms

Gabe and Gavin are responsible for emptying the dishwasher and putting dishes away each day. Gavin noticed two clean bowls that were sitting on the counter from the day before. He accused Gabriel of not putting them away when he was supposed to. Gabe responded, "There's no proof!"

Gabe and Gavin had just come home from spending the night at their friends' house. They had spent quite a bit of time playing with the baby. Gavin said, "Mom, I wish you would have another baby!" Gabe said, "Oh, Gavin, that's mean! That would hurt Mom!"

Gabe made dinner tonight -- chicken noodle soup from the can. He told me, "Do ya know why I'm so good at making chicken noodle soup? It's because I stir so fast."

Sorry. I Just Have to Share.

OK, this just may be the funniest blog post I've ever seen! I found it as a link on Cake Wrecks. Fair warning -- it uses the "F" word once, and another less offensive obscenity later.

Wendi Aarons: An Open Letter to James Thatcher, Brand Manager, Proctor and Gamble