Ten Years Later

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I was just informed that my 10 year high school reunion is scheduled for September 10th. A few things came to mind when I read it:

1) It’s FOURTEEN DAYS before my wedding. I guess that’s close enough to going back married, right?
2) I have a very limited amount of time to achieve my goal of becoming a published novelist before the reunion.
3) It’s really been ten years.

Ten years.

It’s weird, I’ve been reading the book Commencement by J. Courtney Sullivan lately, and its been taking back to those early days of college with misty eyes and longing nostalgia. Now, getting this news, I can’t help but think back to high school. Who was I back then? How much have I changed?

How much has everything changed?

I didn’t have the Internet for my first two years of high school, and didn’t receive a cell phone until graduation. I had just started driving the previous October, and had never spent more than a week away from my parents. I was young, shy, with big bushy hair and contacts that didn’t give me a headache (as they do now). I cared deeply what others thought, but rarely voiced my own opinion. I wasn’t quite me yet – but I was happy. I had people who loved me, and that was most important. Especially in high school.

Because honestly, ten years ago the most important thing was friendship. At this point, I was already accepted to FSU. I was on my way to graduate, and prom was the only important thing on the horizon. And even that was more of a social gathering, than a romantic night. I held on tight to my friends, and went out with them every night. Be it someone’s house, Chuck-E-Cheese (where two worked), the mall, Borders, or just the neighborhood park, we were there. Living. Breathing. And all in the crazy mess of hormones and high school together. Hands held and eyes closed, we sped through the days, not wondering what would happen next, and not really caring. We lived in the moment, whether it was crying over a breakup with cookie dough, or arranging strategic games of capture the flag with water guns.

At 17, I was still figuring things out, still looking for more, and eager to embark on the next chapter of my life (yet still, scared to leave everything behind). I was good in every sense of the way, but I still drove fast and stayed out past curfew. I was invincible, in the way only a high school student could be.

So, to celebrate the date being set, this week I’m going to post a few stories from high school Lauren’s days. Before circus and Samir, before writing and teaching. I’m unlocking the diary, and remembering what it was really like to be 17: afraid, excited, confused, under appreciated (as we all were, right?), nervous, thrilled, and, well, young.

When Bears Attack

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When moving to Florida with my family around ten years ago, we never thought there would be bears walking down our street on a regular basis. That happens in movies, not quaint suburban Florida neighborhoods. But, just that happened, one night when I was already in college. I had come home for the weekend and was out with my friends when I got a call from my dad.

“Call me before you come home,” he demanded nervously into the phone. Still at an age when I thought parents didn’t know best, I retorted: “Why?”

“There’s a bear eating our garbage right now.” Sure enough, a black bear was outside my parents’ house knocking over the garbage can, digging up remnants of dinners past. My mom was trying to take a picture from the safety of the living room, which overlooks the driveway.

When I approached our street later that, I never thought I’d see not one, but three baby bears run in front of my car when the headlights caught their eyes. I never thought I was able to break so fast, feeling my heart almost rip out of my chest. And I never realized how scared I could be, as I wondered where the mother bear was. Needless to say, my father swooped me inside as soon as I called.

The bears didn’t stop there, of course. Instead, they came back every year, much like unwelcome guests – eating all the food and never offering to help clean up. In time, we realized that they wouldn’t actually hurt us unless we got in their way or somehow disturbed the cubs. My mom started to see them as giant puppies and I had to continuously remind her that those “puppies” should not be pet.

Right before her operation, my mom went out for a walk with Jetta. As they rounded a corner, she saw movement in a tree. Assuming it was just a bird, she kept on walking until there she was, face to face with a giant black bear. Both she and the bear balked at the same time, wondering what the other was thinking. Or how close the other would get. She could see the blacks of the bear’s eyes. Thankfully, a fence was between them, but she knew from previous viewings from the safety of the living room window that bears can quite easily scale any sort of bastion. Heart thumping, she started to pull the dog away, moving him ever so slightly. Of course, that was also the time the dog decided to relieve himself, unaware of the impending danger.

The bear’s eyes never left hers as she slowly moved down the pathway and jumped into a nearby bush, covering herself and the dog. When the bear’s movements stopped, and only the chirping of birds above could be heard, she grabbed the dog and ran back home.

I was at work when I got the phone call.

“I was almost mauled!” she yelled, still frightened from her near-death situation. By this time, I had already moved out of the neighborhood and almost forgot that it was bear season.

“Well,” I answered, after hearing her story. “at least you didn’t try to pet him.”

Grey’s Anatomy Musical Episode

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If there’s one thing Grey’s Anatomy is good at, it’s keeping the audience guessing. That was proved once again after last night’s musical episode.

If you’ve watched the show before, you’re more than likely familiar with its typical season: strong opening episode, lackluster following episodes that keep the viewer just interested enough, huge three-part middle of the season arc that definitely involves one of the main characters being hurt and more than likely has a crossover with Private Practice, lackluster following episodes that makes you almost want to quit watching the show, killer ending (literally, in the case of last season, where a good portion of the cast was killed off) that makes you sigh and realize that of course you’ll be watching it next season.

Right?

So last night, in attempts to hook the viewer once again, the creators threw in a spin – a musical episode. Now, other shows have done this before – most notably Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which did it extremely well – so it was nothing new. But for a doctor show, that relies so heavily on melodrama, it seemed almost forced. (Scrubs pulled it off because the show, while medical themed, was just kooky enough that it worked. It had heart, rather than cheese). This was, in this season’s case, its three episode arc. Even Addison showed up.

The story was simple: Callie was in a major car accident, which left her, and her unborn baby, in critical condition. The singing was in her head. Okay, that makes sense. More Chicago than Grease. This wasn’t, of course, the first time a character was in critical condition. I’m pretty sure every character, up to now, has been operated on. (Alex made a funny quip in the episode, calling the hospital Mercy Death.) Since I hadn’t heard of Sara Ramirez wanting to leave the show, (reason why T.R. Knight’s George was killed off) I assumed she would live. (Of course, most hilariously, Izzy wasn’t killed off, even after the hilarious ghost sex arc and the actresses constant bashing of the show, but I’m pretty sure it was because the creators just wanted to torture her some more).

The only reason I could see the creators thinking this was a good idea was because it would a) show off Sara Ramirez’s amazing singing ability (she is a Tony award winner, afterall), and b) bring viewership back. It succeeded in both. Ramirez sounded fantastic; the show had a major viewing boost. Not surprisingly.

Anyway, the episode was pretty simple when it came to plot, but very typical for the show. Full of emotion, most of the characters cried, there was a lot of intense staring, and quite a few frantic surgery scenes. All in all, the making of a normal episode. I’ll admit, I was teary eyed a few times. Then there was the singing.

So, Grey’s Anatomy has made quite a few songs popular. How to Save a Life hit radios hard after it was featured, and let’s not forget Chasing Cars after season two’s extremely emotional finale. (I admit it, I cried). This episode took all of those popular songs, and had the cast singing them.

Seriously.

Again, it was in Callie’s head, but I couldn’t help burst out into laughter when Owen started belting Chasing Cars while wheeling Callie’s gurney in. That was the problem. The songs took away the drama, and instead made it…comical. Extremely comical. The actors had to concentrate on looking like they were singing (I’m assuming they recorded the songs prior), rather than acting. And when dialogue came up between song lyrics – wow. It was just…weird. And don’t get me started on the odd scene when all the guys started seducing their girlfriends with song. Okay. (That said, why were there musical numbers when Callie wasn’t involved? She wasn’t in that scene; there shouldn’t have been a song since she wasn’t imagining it, right? I digress.)

As for the singing, everyone did fine. I mean, no one was horrible, so that was a plus. But when Callie’s dying on the gurney, I didn’t need a chorus of doctors in the background singing This is How We Operate.

What I’ve always liked about the show was its raw emotions. It always went there. This episode just fell incredibly flat. The singing didn’t add anything, as it does in musicals. It just took away what the show excelled at.

I guess I wasn’t disappointed, because I didn’t expect much. And even though it failed as an episode, it definitely did what it intended to do: got me, as well as many other people on my Twitter feed, to watch. And I must admit, I’ll probably watch the next episode, too.

See for yourself here

Inspiration, Or Lack Thereof

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I’ve been staring at the screen for about ten minutes. I want to write, I do. I want to describe what’s been going on, the wedding I just went to, my second to last semester of graduate school.

But.

I’m lacking inspiration. Which is annoying, because my fingers are aching to write something creative. Something that has nothing to do with work or school. Something just for myself.

But I’m stuck.

So.

How are you all doing?

Rock Star

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Hi blog, remember me?

First off, my mom is okay!

That said, I’ve learned that cancer isn’t something that can just go away one day with a surgery. There’s so much more to deal with, prepare for, and undergo.

To back up, mom’s surgery went well. It was almost three weeks ago (!). Watching the doctor’s roll my mother away to the operating room, not knowing what to expect, was one of the most frightening and depressing things I’ve ever experienced. I’m sure there’s a more poetic way to write that, but certain situations don’t call for flowery language.

We were warned of all the side effects and possible outcomes. On the plus side, the worst case scenario was blood, swelling and pain – in cases of a surgery, things could be much worse, so we were hopeful. The ten hours we spent in the hospital (before, during and after the surgery) were draining. Every time the door opened, we jumped, hoping for news. People came in and out, some with smiles, some with frowns.

She spent the night in the hospital and came home the following day. Despite pain, she was able to walk around and have visitors. I stayed with my parents that weekend to handle the cleaning. Since then, I’ve visited most days during my lunch break and Sundays. (During all of this were midterms for grad school, of course. I didn’t sleep much.)

She had a full mastectomy and reconstruction. While the surgery did remove everything, in further testing of her removed lymph node, they found 2 mm of cancer. Fearing it may be in other lymph nodes, we’re deciding what to do next.

It’s interesting (and frustrating). Six years ago, after the surgery, it would have been done, over. They didn’t see any other cancer, they only found the 2 mm after biopsying the removed node after the fact…in a test that was only created six years ago. Since the test is so new, and research still going on, there’s no specific route to take next. It was believed that since it was found, surgeons should go back in and take away more nodes. Yet, recently, it’s been deduced that that doesn’t actually solve everything (thanks, by the way, to J who sent me the NPR article about this – EXTREMELY helpful). So, we’re meeting with oncologists and radiologists and whatnot to see what to do next. I say we because I feel like I’m in this almost as much. (Although I know I’m not.)

To my mom’s credit, she’s so optimistic. She’s gotten to the point of accepting the disease, and moving on. She can’t cry over it every day, so she admits it’s awful, admits her fear, and keeps going. She’s gone on walks, gone to Target. She still has drains in her (weird), but they should be removed by the end of the week. She’s a rock star.

I went to the OBGYN to get tested. Since it doesn’t run in my family, the doctor said there’s a strong chance I’ll be fine. Still, I’m to take precautious. Stay healthy. Exercise. Yearly checkups (which I already do). Mammograms starting at 30 or 35. (I’m 27 now, so I still have some time.)

My job has been amazing. Two people, including my boss, have gone through this, so they’ve let me take afternoons off, extended lunches, and days off to help out with driving my mom to appointments and such. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer present.

The day of the surgery, I received some of the nicest emails, text messages, and Tweets in regards to the situation. I wasn’t very public about it – this is really the only forum I’ve posted about the situation (I’m not very personal on Facebook-go figure), so it was lovely to see everyone’s concern without a status message to remind them. When waiting in the hospital to get the results, I thought about all the people from all over the country – world even (we had messages from UK) – wishing my mother well. It was incredible, simply amazing, to see so many names all coming together to hope for the same thing. It makes the world seem very friendly.

And so, we’re still going. There’s more to undergo, but we’re positive. We’re just one more step toward putting this all behind us. There’s just so much more to look forward to.

But, I have to admit – it’s put a new spin on everything. Deleted document, forgotten lunch, cut off by a bad driver…none of those ordinary things are as bad as cancer. None of them. Days seem so much more pleasant knowing that.