17 Questions Short People Are Tired Of Hearing & Their Responses

I recently stumbled upon this article posted by Country Outfitter: 26 Things You Should Never Say to a Short Girl. This was a list that I have indeed heard numerous times, because I am a petite 4’11. I can guarantee you I’ve heard every short comment in the world. Granted, most are meant to be innocuous. However, when you’ve heard them 9372648 times, it gets old. So, with the inspiration of this article, I have made a list of my own: 17 Questions Short People Are Tired Of Hearing & Their Responses. Some of these questions come from the original article, but I’ve also included my own. I also apologize for the language in some of the gifs, but they were too funny not to share.

(*Gifs are not mine. They were all found on Google, so if it’s your gif and you want credit, I’d be happy to give credit where it’s due*)

1. “Wow, you look 12 years old.”

stacy london eye roll

Yeah, I get it. I’m short. And I may look like a 12 year old, but I was 12 ten years ago and I think it’s safe to say I don’t look 12 anymore.

2. “You make me feel so tall.”

nene eye roll

Duh. I’m 4’11. I make everyone feel tall. You’re not special.

3. “You aren’t short. You’re fun sized.”

Gif NeNe Size

Excuse me? I’m short. Not fun. Bye.

4. “You must get all the cute shoes! They only have the little sizes.”

parks and rec excuse me

Have you lost your mind? No, honey. No. They always have size 7-9. Me? I’m anywhere from a 4 to a 5 & 1/2, but I end up buying a 6 that is too big for the sake of fashion. Otherwise, I’d have to buy light-up shoes or the ugly shoes with the little block heels in the children’s section. Which leads me to my next point…

5. “You must get to shop in the children’s section. That’s awesome and so much cheaper!”

rh let me stop you right there

No, I cannot shop in the children’s section because they make children’s clothes for ~you guessed it~ children. Who are shaped like rulers and have waists 10x smaller than the waist that I’ve been working on for 22 years. Plus, because it’s in the children’s section, this means that there are rainbows and unicorns and puppy dogs and words like “fantastic” or “adorable” or “awesome.” That’s not fantastic, adorable or awesome when you’re 22 and trying to date.

nicole richie thats not cute

6. “At least you don’t have to worry about dating someone shorter than you.”

dance moms wrong opinion

First of all, there’s a chance that there is someone out there shorter than me. But that’s not the point. Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I have to date short men. If you’re a tall woman and you tell me that I need to date short men so you can have your fair share of tall ones: BYE. Some of us like tall men too. Who are you to get in the way of me and Mr. 6 Foot McSteamy?

7. “Shaving is the worst. How about you just wear a maxi dress?”

stacy london confused mad

Wow. A maxi dress! Why didn’t I think of that?? Oh that’s right. Because I don’t feel like being swallowed up in an extra foot of fabric, because my legs are much shorter than yours. And while we’re on that subject, looking at all of you tall women getting to be lazy and just throw on a maxi dress when you don’t want to shave or just even seeing your long, lean legs while you’re chatting up Mr 6 Foot McSteamy is annoying.

dance moms hate that bitch

8. “Can I use you as an arm rest?”

greys strangle

No. You may not. In fact, don’t touch me at all. You want an arm rest? Go sit in a chair.

9. “How do you drive?? You must have to sit on a pillow. How do you reach the pedals??”

dance moms pissed off

You know, there’s this thing called technology. It’s 2015 people. There are cars that have seats that move up/down and forward/backward. And before you ask, NO. I have not been pulled over for cops thinking I was too young to drive.

10. “Can you reach that for me? You’re closer to the ground.”

Gif Nene Throw Your Shade

Yeah, I get it. I’m short. But I’m also getting old and my knees crack every time I bend, so suck it up and get it yourself.

11. “What’s the weather like down there?”

nicole richie 5'1

nicole richie entire world up there

Hmm, well chances are it’s pretty much the same as it is for you up there. But well, I guess I’ll never know. Will I?

12. “Guess you can never be a model, huh?”

greys wanna punch

Yeah, but chances are that you can never be a model either unless you have the bone structure of Cara Delevingne or Karlie Kloss’ perfect runway walk.

13. “Dynamite comes in small packages.”

gg blari

Oh really? You sure are right. Let me show you that dynamite.

mean girls fight

Yep. It sure does.

14. “Sit in the middle. You’ll fit.”

dance moms eye roll

Let me assure you: sitting in the middle is uncomfortable for everyone, regardless of height. Yeah, my legs are shorter than yours, but I’m not trying to lose the feeling of my feet or end up feeling like I have arthritis because you’re too afraid to just admit that you just don’t like sitting in the middle.

15. “What did you say? I can’t hear you!”

nicole richie sick of talking to peoples nipples

Ugh, do I really have to repeat myself again? Sorry that we’re not talking face-to-face. If it makes you feel better, having to talk to your chest is getting old. And further, standing in line is probably the 8th circle of Hell or something. Hello! I can’t breathe! I’m in the middle of a tall person sandwich and I can smell your back sweat, or heaven forbid you crack sweat when you’re really tall. I’m tired of looking at your back/behind.

rh i just cant

16. “You’re so cute. I wish I was tiny like you.”

britney spears

Hmmm. Somehow I doubt that. I think you would change your mind when you go grocery shopping and can’t reach the top shelf or when you get asked ridiculous questions on the reg. Also, stop saying I’m cute.

nicole richie grown

17. “Are you a midget?”

dance moms how dare you

Excuse me?? This is extremely offensive. First of all, the term has origins meaning “less than,” so when you call someone a midget, you are indicating that they are less than a human due to their short stature. Next, it is rude. I don’t come up to you and ask “Are you an idiot?” or any other derogatory term. No, I am short. That is all.

So folks, there you have it. 17 questions that short people are tired of hearing. For all my fellow shorties out there, continue being fab and rock your height despite the dumb questions you encounter every day. After all, being short’s not so bad.

beyonce

I’m baaaaaaack.

Hey y’all! So it’s been over a month since I’ve posted…and I haven’t posted anything about my life since August. So, this blogging thing is going ~really well~ isn’t it? I’m going to try to go back to the past couple of months and briefly update y’all.

End of August

-Our cohort decided to get together for dinner and drinks at the Pour House in downtown Nashville. The weather was perfect, the view was gorgeous and the food was delicious.

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Thankful for new friends

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Some of our cohort

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Seriously fell in love with Nashville that night

September

Wow, a lot happened this month so bear with me!

-I went back to Georgia for Labor Day weekend, because my long lost suitie (freshman year suitemate) was back in town on leave from the military. Kaley and I went to Calhoun to visit our favorite ash-hole (her name is Ashley) and spend the afternoon catching up. We went shopping and had lunch before we said our goodbyes (I mean see-you-laters) to Ashley. Love and miss you my forever friend!

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Our candids are always great

I went home and my mom made me all my favorites, plus a new recipe that tasted like it came from the hand of Jesus.

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Bacon wrapped green beans. Yes, my mama is cooler than yours.

-Next, I had a lovely visit from Emily and Ethan. I’m SO glad y’all came up to visit. I had a lot of fun that weekend and hope y’all enjoyed Nashville.

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We went downtown for the typical tourist scenery. We ate dinner and saw live music at the Wildhorse Saloon, and then we walked down Broadway.

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The two lovebirds

This was the weekend that Georgia played Vandy (at Vandy) and what started out as “we’ll just watch the game at a local restaurant” turned into spontaneously buying tickets and watching the game. Well worth it! Well, except for when two Vandy fans decided to sit near us and laugh at us when we cheered…yeah, very funny sweet cheeks. Sorry that your team is losing and that your fan base doesn’t support your team/we outnumbered your fans by a long shot….at your own stadium. Okay, so obviously I’m a little sassy. It’s a gift really. To be honest, it really wasn’t a big deal and they only sat by us for a little while. Overall, Vandy fans were alright I guess.

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All in all, it was a great weekend catching up with these two!

October

This is hands-down my favorite month and it always has been. Fall, Halloween, football, etc. All my favorite things wrapped into one month!

-I started my field placement at the beginning of this month and look forward to this experience.

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An #ootd for my first day featuring new flats by Steve Madden and sleepy eyes from yours truly

-I was able to come home for a fun Fall weekend with my family. My mom’s side of the family does a “weenie roast” every year and it’s one of my favorite family traditions. Bonfires, s’mores, and family. What else could a girl want?

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(1) Yes, my cousin is wearing shorts. Georgia didn’t get the memo that it was October. (2) A quality grade selfie with Mammama (3) My sweet Taylor

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Amber, Noah & I played ball. It was a great night!

The next day, Noah and I watched “scary” (children & family approved) movies under a fort, drank some hot chocolate and colored. I’m so glad to have a nephew who loves Halloween as much as I do.

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Bella joined us under the fort. She really loves Noah.

Next, our family went to Mitcham’s farm for the corn maze and pumpkin patch. Although the weather had been rough earlier, thus making it pretty muddy, we had a blast!

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Noah pointing which way we should go.

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His thinking face

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I’m corny

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There were several other activities at the farm.

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We took a hayride to see the pumpkin patch and the farm animals, but I failed to get a picture of those. I also failed to get pictures of the huge slide and corn shooter (my personal fave) but we had a blast!

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On the hayride with Gandy

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Why not take a cheesy car selfie?

We then went back home and painted/carved pumpkins.
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He’s not a fan of pumpkin guts

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L2R: Jared’s, Noah’s, Mine, & Kayla’s

Coming home meant I got to see my fur babies, so obviously this was a great weekend back home!

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-Fast forward to last weekend when I visited my undergrad. I had a great time catching up with some old friends and hated that I didn’t get to see everyone! Hunter & Maddie, I’m coming back for ya in December! It was fun, Milledgeville!

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I was reunited with my first love, Velvet’s cheesy fries

And we took a bunch of silly pictures like we were 19 & crazy instead of old and granny-like grad students. Attention bobkittens: HAVE FUN and enjoy college before you enter the crippling world of adulthood.

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Well folks, that’s the timeline of my past couple of months. It’s been a busy one, but fun as well. Classes are now (as in compared to my last blog post) in the full swing of things and grad school basically takes up 98% of my time. School is going well though and I’m learning a lot about myself along the way. I believe that it’s important to love what you do and I’m excited that grad school is helping me get one step closer to my passion.

I hope that all of you are doing well and that you’re doing whatever makes you happy.

Until next time (which may be in 2 months LOL), thanks for reading this novel of a post.

xo,

Lea

And I hold onto that. (In remembrance of 9/11)

Okay, so I’ve done a terrible job at keeping up with this thing. Expect a make-up post involving all the details of the last month. Trust me, it’s been a busy one! But I wanted to share with you all a poem that I first read my sophomore year of college. For English 1102, we were required to choose a poem or narrative from our book and then complete an analysis on it. I chose Leap by Brian Doyle. The poem is about 9/11 and after my analysis, I discovered that it is indeed pretty accurate. It’s based on eyewitness accounts from 9/11 and I find it quite powerful. It stuck with me and I think about it every year.

Leap
A couple leaped from the south tower, hand in hand. They reached for each other and their hands met and they jumped.

Jennifer Brickhouse saw them falling, hand in hand.

Many people jumped. Perhaps hundreds. No one knows. They struck the pavement with such force that there was a pink mist in the air.

The mayor reported the mist.

A kindergarten boy who saw people falling in flames told his teacher that the birds were on fire. She ran with him on her shoulders out of the ashes.

Tiffany Keeling saw fireballs falling that she later realized were people. Jennifer Griffin saw people falling and wept as she told the story. Niko Winstral saw people free-falling backwards with their hands out, like they were parachuting. Joe Duncan on his roof on Duane Street looked up and saw people jumping. Henry Weintraub saw people “leaping as they flew out.” John Carson saw six people fall, “falling over themselves, falling, they were somersaulting.” Steve Miller saw people jumping from a thousand feet in the air. Kirk Kjeldsen saw people flailing on the way down, people lining up and jumping, “too many people falling.” Jane Tedder saw people leaping and the sight haunts her at night. Steve Tamas counted fourteen people jumping and then he stopped counting. Stuart DeHann saw one woman’s dress billowing as she fell, and he saw a shirtless man falling end over end, and he too saw the couple leaping hand in hand.

Several pedestrians were killed by people falling from the sky. A fireman was killed by a body falling from the sky.

But he reached for her hand and she reached for his hand and they leaped out the window holding hands.

I try to whisper prayers for the sudden dead and the harrowed families of the dead and the screaming souls of the murderers but I keep coming back to his hand and her hand nestled in each other with such extraordinary ordinary succinct ancient naked stunning perfect simple ferocious love.

Their hands reaching and joining are the most powerful prayer I can imagine, the most eloquent, the most graceful. It is everything that we are capable of against horror and loss and death. It is what makes me believe that we are not craven fools and charlatans to believe in God, to believe that human beings have greatness and holiness within them like seeds that open only under great fires, to believe that some unimaginable essence of who we are persists past the dissolution of what we were, to believe against such evil hourly evidence that love is why we are here.

No one knows who they were: husband and wife, lovers, dear friends, colleagues, strangers thrown together at the window there at the lip of hell. Maybe they didn’t even reach for each other consciously, maybe it was instinctive, a reflex, as they both decided at the same time to take two running steps and jump out the shattered window, but they did reach for each other, and they held on tight, and leaped, and fell endlessly into the smoking canyon, at two hundred miles an hour, falling so far and so fast that they would have blacked out before they hit the pavement near Liberty Street so hard that there was a pink mist in the air.

Jennifer Brickhouse saw them holding hands, and Stuart DeHann saw them holding hands, and I hold onto that.

As each year passes, I think about this poem and the tragic events that our nation suffered. I think about what it was like in 3rd grade to be told that we couldn’t have recess that day. What it was like to see teachers trying to hide their emotions. What it was like to see kid after kid get checked out of school. What it was like to come home and find out what had happened earlier that day. What it was like to see the towers falling and knowing, but not fully comprehending until many years later, that many people lost their lives that day.

I think about the changes made after 9/11. No longer could I watch my mom fly off in a plane on her business trips. We began to sing the national anthem after saying the pledge every morning before school. We started calling them freedom fries, though that didn’t last long.

I think about the lives of many Americans that were forever altered that day by the acts of cruelty and terror. I think about how some children, even my age, lost parents that day. How someone’s wife, husband, daughter, son, father, mother, friend, lover, etc. no longer returned to the normalcy of their lives as time had passed, like those of us who were not affected as much as they had been so easily did.

I think about how our country rallied together and how love won.

And I think about how different our country is today. How easily we’ve strayed. How easily we’ve become complacent or unappreciative of the things we have. How everyone is fighting and even losing lives. How divided we’ve come.

And then I think about this poem.

Their hands reaching and joining are the most powerful prayer I can imagine, the most eloquent, the most graceful. It is everything that we are capable of against horror and loss and death. It is what makes me believe that we are not craven fools and charlatans to believe in God, to believe that human beings have greatness and holiness within them like seeds that open only under great fires, to believe that some unimaginable essence of who we are persists past the dissolution of what we were, to believe against such evil hourly evidence that love is why we are here.

Jennifer Brickhouse saw them holding hands, and Stuart DeHann saw them holding hands, and I hold onto that.

And I hold onto that. 

Time to Learn

Classes have officially begun and the familiarity of structure and routine are back into place, juxtaposed with a sense of unfamiliarity. The anticipation of grad school made me excited, but I was also a little anxious. (I’m an over-thinker, so this really wasn’t unusual) Do grad students wear real clothes to class? Will I like the program? Will it be harder than undergrad? Was this the right decision? Should I just have stayed at home and gone to an in-state program? Can I handle it? Am I going to learn how to drive on big interstates?

Yes. Yes. Maybe. Yes. No. I think so. God, I hope so.

Since classes started Wednesday, I haven’t been to all of my classes yet. So, this blog post and my feelings are based on the first three classes that I have experienced. I’m pretty sure I’ll still feel the same way after Monday, when I’ve gone to two more classes. If not, I guess I’ll just write another post. About an hour into the first class, I realized that the decision to move to Nashville was a good one. (Even though I’ve never seen so much orange…this UGA fan is a little hurt) Yes, I miss my family and my dogs. But moving to Nashville seems like a great opportunity for my education, as well as personal growth.

1st day of grad school

Here is the usual “first day of school” picture. Yes, this picture looks like a girl’s first day of middle school. I realize that I look like I’m 12. It’s whatever.

Making the decision to attend grad school was a stressful one. I’d much rather let life happen to me and be able to blame someone rather than making a wrong decision and blame myself. It’s just easier that way. However, this decision was my own and no one else’s. Although some people did give me their opinions, the decision still was mine to make. Most people gave advice like “I don’t know…it’s your life and you need to make the decision” or “Well, I think this, but…” Thanks Kaley for giving it to me 100%. I need that in my life 🙂 It was difficult to make the decision between a psychology program and a social work one. They are similar fields, but there are definitely differences in them. I think that was the most stressful aspect of making this decision. I have a Bachelor’s of Science in Psychology, so changing to Social Work was a little nerve-wrecking. I know that I really haven’t gotten far into social work at all, but I think it’s a good fit for me. I felt a reassurance of “this is what I want to do with my life” and “this feels right.” I’ve always wanted to know the population that I want to help, so I’ve always known what I’ve wanted to do. I just didn’t know which path to take to get there. I’m excited to continue this educational journey and update y’all on how it goes.

My cohort is really nice and the people in it are so passionate and accepting, as well as funny. There are people from different backgrounds and life stages, so I’m really excited to see things from different perspectives. I’m looking forward to getting closer to each other and surviving the program with these people. I think these next two years are going to fly by and it’ll be great to have people to experience it with.

Going to grad school is going to involve a little bit more effort and a whole lot more reading. When I finish this post, my booty is going to be sitting down and getting stuff done. I’ve gone through the syllabi and have written everything in my planner (because Type A people need structure), so it’s now time to get to crackin’. If you’re a praying soul, please pray that I stay on top of my assignments and do well in this program.

Here are some pictures of my “desk.” (It’s really not a desk…I do work on my bed or on the couch. It’s just the surface that holds all my important things)

desk

This is an engraved compass/clock given to me by my church after graduating college and then my personal planner.

planner

The personal planner is something that I bought after graduating from undergrad. I wanted to have something to bring to Nashville that had a special meaning. Friends and family have chosen random dates to write in, giving me notes of encouragement as I pursue my second degree. I have it on this desk and look forward to moving through the year and seeing the sweet words people have written. I can’t wait to see what each day holds.

desk 2

Here is my mug from Noah, my nephew. I love that I get to have a little piece of him with me in Nashville. Also, Oh, The Places You’ll Go! that I received after graduating high school. I love it and it serves as a sweet reminder of what the future holds.

This next picture is random, but I never showed off the bookshelf that my dad painted whenever I was recovering from surgery. I’ve had this bookshelf since I was a child and it was white (and actually stained…#oops) but I wanted it to be black to match my room more. Thanks daddy!

bookshelf

Also, I didn’t know how much room I would have here so I only brought one issue of Vogue…of course, it’s the March one. AND of course Stacy London’s Truth About Style. I seriously love her.

Random picture #2 because I forgot to show off the lovely plates that my Grandaddy and Grandmama gave me for Christmas and graduation. (1 set from Christmas and 1 from graduation)

grandmama's plate

Please don’t judge how much ranch I use. It may be a problem.

Last but not least, I wanted to post this in honor of my sister’s birthday today. Love and miss you!

kmartz

Well folks. I guess that’s it. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I continue this journey. I’m excited to continue exploring Nashville. I’ve already found the Chick-fil-a, Target and Smoothie King so life has been pretty good.

xo & go vols (?! ahh I’m trying?!)

Adventures & Recent Events

Okay, so this blog post is probably going to be just as boring as the last. But hey, I’ll become cool one day.

As I sit here and write this, I think about all of the people that started classes today. Graduation didn’t feel real until I saw that everyone was starting back today. I’m thankful that my classes don’t start until Wednesday. I’m too tired for all that and I will enjoy my last couple days of summer with appreciation. I think about Milledgeville and my three years there, and it’s so crazy to think that I won’t be there this semester. Study hard and party harder, Bobcats. It goes by quickly. Also, I have never missed Velvet’s cheesy fries so much and really need that in my life again asap. 

I’m excited to begin classes Wednesday and I’ll probably write another blog post after my first week. Wish me luck and here’s to surviving two more years of school!

After a week in Nashville, you’d think I would have a little exploration done. However, the medicine that I’m (STILL…ugh) taking for my kidney stone issues makes me pretty drowsy for the majority of the time. I literally spend every day in my apartment just lounging around and watching Netflix. (PS: The Following is great.) However, I was able to get out of the apartment twice, so that’s good.

Mini adventure one:

My wonderful roommate, Laura, took me on my very first Costco visit. [Also, thanks for taking me to my field placement to drop off some forms. You rock. Don’t change) It was pretty cool. I’ve never seen boxes that big and there were so many options. It’s like a middle age mom’s dream. It was here where I learned that I apparently have a small fear of commitment. I wanted to buy things, but dadgum…what if I didn’t finish it all before it expired? What if I couldn’t eat that much? I ended up leaving empty-handed, but I do think that another Costco trip is in my future.

Mini adventure two:

Well, my second adventure is just as wild as the first but I went to Publix for some groceries. Now I won’t bore you to death with the mundane details, but I wanted to tell y’all about this great crack-like stuff my roommate has gotten me hooked on: cookie butter. I’ve never heard of anything like it, but lawd have mercy. It’s addictive. You’re probably supposed to put it on toast, but that would mean that I like bread and I don’t, so I ate it straight from the jar. Your girl is hooked.

cookie butter

Way to go Biscoff. You know your stuff. Another observation from my grocery shopping adventure is that Pepsi is the thing in Nashville…and I don’t know how I feel about that. I’m thankful that Coke is still served here, so I’m really not in yankee country or anything, but the displays are all for Pepsi. That’s pretty weird for someone from Georgia/used to Coca-Cola being advertised 24/7.

I’ve learned to cook a little bit more…although I’m not a fan of my own work. I miss my mama’s cooking and hate that cooking is a part of the adult world. I look forward to being able to explore Nashville and try some of the great food it has to offer. If y’all have any suggestions, let me know. I’d love to try them! But remember: I’m a grad student on a budget. Nothing too expensive please.

I also wanted to express how much I miss my baby. I mean, look at her: she’s precious. I’m coming to visit asap, Bella! I ❤ you!

my baby

If this post seems scattered at all, which it truly is, you now know exactly how I feel this week. Blame it on the meds. I’m hoping to feel like my normal, focused self soon. And I’m sure I will. As far as my health goes, my stent is now removed and I’m recovering. Meanwhile, I’m laying on the couch wishing that Chick-fil-a delivered.

peace, luv & dreams of cheesy fries,

xo.

Late(lea)

Hey babes.

I originally created this blog a few months ago, but never really did anything with it. My plan is to update it more as I continue my journey through grad school. So, here’s what’s been happening late(lea). Ha. Get it? Yeah, I have a weird sense of humor.

So…I made the move to Nashville this past Saturday. My parents and I left Georgia around 7:30 in the morning. Before I left, I had to say goodbye to my fur babies. You can see my sleepy eyes in the pictures. I obviously am not a morning person.

nash2nash3

We ended up making it to Nashville in about 4 and a half hours, which is pretty good considering the moving truck had to be driven slower due to the weight. And I survived driving through Atlanta, which is a big deal considering I come from a one red light town and have never had to drive with so many cars on the same road. Yay! (Sidenote: I am probably going to have an anxiety attack whenever I drive back home/through Atlanta alone. I seriously don’t know how people do that every day. Just thinking about it makes me want some Xanax or something.) But alas, we made it to Nashville safely. We then unloaded my stuff and began to unpack.

This is where it all started to go downhill. I started to have abdominal pain that evening and it wouldn’t ease up. I couldn’t eat anything (which is very unusual for me) and I did not feel well at all. We decided to stop unpacking and just call it a night. My parents left for their hotel and I spent the first night in my apartment, intending to sleep it off. Just three hours later, I woke up with intense pain that wouldn’t go away. I then decided to go to the ER.

We arrived at Vanderbilt shortly before 6:00 AM. I was in the ER all day long and underwent different types of tests to see what the problem was. After bloodwork, an ultrasound, and a CT scan, we learned that I had a 6mm kidney stone. They admitted me to the hospital that night and I had my own room on the urology wing around 8:00 PM. The plan was to schedule a surgery on Tuesday or Wednesday, if not sooner, to see if I could pass it, unless an attending could fit me onto the OR schedule. Thankfully, an attending was available Monday. I went down there around 11:00 AM, was in surgery by noon and out a little after 2:00 PM. The attending told me that there was no way that I was going to be able to pass the stone, considering its size and location. They removed it completely and also found another stone closer to my kidney. They removed that one too. They then placed a stent in and I was placed in recovery.

I then spent the next several hours in the hospital, but was discharged around 9:00 PM. By this point, I wasn’t on a restricted diet and could eat and drink. I hadn’t eaten since Saturday at lunch, so this was great news. Apparently, I asked for s’mores. So, my sweet parents went and bought the ingredients for s’mores along with my (several) prescriptions and made s’mores in the oven for me. This apparently made me the happiest I had been all weekend.

Which then brings me to an overview of my hospital stay: this is a formal apology to everyone I yelled at in the hospital. Although I have a pretty high pain tolerance, I get nauseous very easily and had terrible nausea all weekend long…which apparently makes me very mean. I only remember bits and pieces of this weekend, but according to my parents and my fuzzy memory, I was terrible. I am thankful to be out of the hospital, for pain meds, for nice nurses and doctors, for my patient parents and for a growing appetite. I’m also thankful for a very kind roommate who has helped out in so many ways this week. Being at Vanderbilt was kind of cool, if you took away the pain and nausea. I felt like I was on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. There were nurses, med students, residents, attendings, etc, I saw a man who had just received a new kidney, heard about a man in critical care recovering from a shooting, and actually ate (well, attempted) hospital food.

Obviously, this weekend didn’t go as planned. Originally, we were supposed to finish unpacking and decorating my apartment on Sunday, go out to eat on Monday for my mom’s birthday, and then my parents were supposed to leave Monday afternoon. Since we were in the hospital all day long on my mom’s birthday, we had to celebrate a day later. We went to a nice restaurant in Brentwood, where I had my first real meal since Saturday. This was after I spent all day at orientation, which was mandatory. Looking back, I probably could have told them my situation and skipped it. However, I was still kind of ‘high’ on medicine and was apparently adamant that I needed to go. My roommate drove, held my stuff, and was such a tremendous help to me. Orientation went well, although I am 96% sure that I was still a little spacey during it. I’m glad I have Laura to ask questions about it. Below is a picture of my sweet (and tired) parents, who spent all day Tuesday finishing things up at my apartment.

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They even gave my mom a complimentary dessert: creme brûlée cheesecake (it is DEFINITELY as good as it sounds) and a birthday card signed by the employees.

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My parents left Wednesday afternoon, but didn’t make it home until 11:00 PM due to car troubles. I guess it seems like Murphy’s law is hitting our family hard this week. I’m glad they made it back safely. Keep them in your thoughts, because they’ve had a rough week. Also, thanks to everyone who helped or offered to help us in any way needed. Shoutout to KD for staying extra days to watch our dogs. Y’all have helped us a lot.

I now sit here and type this, while I’m supposed to be organizing all my stuff for school and filling out forms for field placement, etc. I feel a whole lot better than I did and I am recovering. I will be able to remove my stent Monday and I’ll have a follow-up appointment with my surgeon in six weeks. Classes start next Wednesday and things should be returning to normal slowly, but surely. The medicine I’m on makes me a little loopy, so if I send you a text or message (or even if I have sent you one in the past several days), I’m sorry if it makes no sense. I’m trying…lol. As for now, I’ll just try to rest and try to make up for all the food that I missed this weekend. [Also: grocery shopping becomes 10x more fun when you’re medicated. There are things in my pantry that I have never even tried. I guess I’m excited to try gluten free tortillas. lol.]

I realize that this post is 859391037 words long, so thanks for reading and can’t wait to update this blog for y’all.

xo