Methodist BeReal, me in action, Noodles w/Papa, Rosie + angel food cake

December 12, 2023

Alright, today was quite a good day, like Tuesdays often are. I chose to go in for my shift at Methodist this morning at 9:30am, even though everyone told me that that I didn’t have to since I’m recovering from the surgery still. I did, and it went amazingly well! I told the woman who was at the front desk, Kathy I think, that I was very capable of translating, but not very capable of standing up and sitting down frequently. As a result, my position today was seated at the front desk, which was actually the most useful position for me to be in. Today, not a single other translator showed up, so I felt VERY useful. There was one other lady, maybe Anne, who knew enough to communicate and get some groups of new people registered as new clients, but I literally remember having to call over her shoulder to translate a few specific phrases she’d mentioned for the clients. I’m not quite sure how I know so much Spanish, exactly, but I’m insanely proud that I learned most of it without having taken a class in school, which is what I always tell people as well. 

Today, I got my BeReal on time while I was sitting at the front desk at Methodist, and I feel like Anne or someone might be blurry in the background. It’s funny that evaluating this project I do, it’s becomes clear that it is significantly more impactful for me to get my BeReals on time, and be able to take more BeReal posts in a single day, than it is for most “normal” people. Today, I had to leave before the end at Methodist, because at 1:10pm I had a blood test. Papa picked me up, and I hadn’t eaten any food there because I was busy there, and also wasn’t hungry at all, as is often the case. We went to the blood test, and there I got stabbed a few times. First it was by a guy named Galit, and he did not succeed. Then, he handed me off to a woman named Meegan, who succeeded, and I had a great conversation her as well.

Meegan actually saw me write her name down in my notebook and commented on it, and I told her that, “I have a traumatic brain injury and I write everything down because I don’t remember it.” Meegan got my blood draw in the left forearm on her first poke, and I wrote down that she must have gotten it so quickly because I warned her in detail about how difficult I was. Suppose that’s exactly why! Not sure I’ll ever be poked successfully without first warning people how impossible I am! 

Then, Papa and I drove us over to one of the Super Targets where they have a poke bowl place and a Noodles. While heading over, I thought that I’d want poke bowl, but when I got there and we poked our heads into Noodles, I decided to go for the buffalo chicken mac, which I thought I’d really like because of the spiciness, which I normally like a lot. But today, the spicy flavors weren’t speaking to me very much, so I actually had a better time finishing Papa’s pad thai order. 

Somewhere around this time, I also wrote in my notebook #15 that “normal people don’t appreciate how much their bodies do for them.” That’s one of those thoughts that leads me to think I may end up better off than “normal” because of all the hell that I’ve suffered. I will ALWAYS appreciate being able to walk/jog across a room, and being able to bend over and tie my shoes in a way that “normal” people will never feel. So yeah, I’ve wholeheartedly decided that “normal” is no longer the goal, even though I felt “more happy” when I became “more normal” after working at Fogo post-cancer hell. 

Later on in the night, I was able to talk to Talia a bit, which I think was after she finished her shift at Half Price Books. We looked through some old Instagram posts trying to figure out of I was with Manju before or after I traveled to San Diego with a different guy, and the answer was that it was after that trip, but that both events occurred in 2017! I also told Talia that writing my thoughts down in my notes notebook actually helps me to process them and “figure out wtf I’m feeling.” She responded that she feels like that might be the reason that people often like therapy, too.

Ok, now I’m just sitting here finishing some of the peppermint tea that Papa made for both of us. I feel pretty done, too!