Oh Abby, look what you started!

1) My uncle once: took me to my first father-daughter dance for Daisy’s (girl scouts) because my dad’s never been a big part of my life.
2) Never in my life: would I have thought that I’d have gone through so many obstacles all before turning 22 and come out of them as strong as I have.
3) When I was five: I began to learn sign language, because my best friend Alicia was deaf.
4) High school was: never a big priority to me. I went to school did what I had to do and then left and went to work my two jobs.
5) I will never forget: the day I left the hospital, or the day I could walk again.
6) Once I met: Joey McIntyre.
7) There’s this girl I know: who has more potential than she knows.
8) Once, at a bar: I watched a fight break out. Anyone surprised? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
9) By noon, I’m usually: done with lunch and back to work.
10) Last night: I wanted to stay up and watch the gymnastic finals of the Olympics, but I fell asleep! >_<
11) If only I had: more time, more money, and more knowledge.
12) Next time I go to church: I will most likely be attending either a wedding or a funeral.
13) What worries me most: is that I inherited the breast cancer gene that runs in my family; and also Troy being in Afghanistan.
14) When I turn my head left I see: a window.
15) When I turn my head right I see: a typewriter, my boss still tries to do it old school!
16) You know I’m lying when: I tell you that they don’t hurt; when asked about my hip and knee.
17) What I miss most about the Eighties is: being a carefree kid.
18) If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be: Juliet, minus the whole suicide ordeal.
19) By this time next year: I will be transferring to another University.
20) A better name for me would be: I can’t think of one, I think Erin fits me.
21) I have a hard time understanding: why bad things happen to good people.
22) If I ever go back to school, I’ll: pursue a degree in criminal investigations; after I have my masters in social work of course!
23) You know I like you if: I trust you enough to tell you my secrets or let you see me cry.
24) If I ever won an award, the first person I would thank would be: My family.
25) Take my advice, never: forget how important your family is.
26) My ideal breakfast is: fruit, granola and yoghurt, or waffles!
27) A song I love but do not have is: If I don’t have it I’ll get it. I’m obsessed with itunes.
28) If you visit my hometown, I suggest you: go to the beach and big kahunas! (water- park)
29) Why won’t people: stop abusing and abandoning children and animals! They’re so very precious!
30) If you spend a night at my house: You can be sure that I cleaned everything top to bottom, and I’m sorry but you’ll be sleeping on the couch as I don’t have a guest bed yet.
31) I’d stop my wedding for: a natural disaster.
32) The world could do without: abuse, poverty, war, disease, hate, global warming, guns, drugs, and crime.
33) I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: lose a member of my family or my best friends.
34) My favorite blonde(s) is/are: Tina.
35) Paper clips are more useful than: tape? Depends on what you need it for.
36) If I do anything well it’s: organize and clean.
37) And by the way: I have a photography addiction and I blame my cousin Erin for it!

I tag: Lane, Emily, Erin and Holly.

It's official. My baby sister has taken her first step into adulthood and is now over with the relatively carefree days of high school. As most of us know, this is a particularly terrifying and exhilarating phase of life, which leads from periods of euphoria to moments of extreme panic. It's a rather schizophrenic feeling, but (hopefully) not in a requires-hospitalization kind of way. Your mom and dad want to know what you are doing with your life, and coincidentally you are asking the same question. No one seems to have the answers, although consulting the infamous Magic 8-Ball is tempting. The magic 8-Ball is wonderfully vague, while your parents are more specific with suggestions like “Move out” and “You should keep your job at Cracker Barrel and the Back Porch while you prepare for your college classes, so you don’t run out of money.” This however is only if you do decide to go straight into a college or university, as many people choose not to. Some join the military, some go on a search for career opportunities without a college degree, and some just bum around working at a fast food chain waiting for the ‘right sign’ to help them decide where they want to be, and what they want to do with their lives. Which is just fine, no one should be rushed to make such an important decision in their life.

The point is that life doesn't end or begin as simply as we hoped it would once you move your tassel to the right and toss that dangerously pointy hat in the air. I'm still not where I thought I would be when I graduated in 2004, and I'm nowhere near the spot I'd guessed I'd be in the year of 2008. And where exactly, was I thinking I'd have ended up by 2008? An undergrad of a well known University holding my BSW in hand; while searching for any position as a social worker, and preparing for my MSW courses, unfortunately circumstances have postponed my graduation timing, but that is life. The point is that I never had a clue, so I couldn't have made it there no matter what kind of crazy carpet ride I'm on. Point yourself generally in the direction you are hoping to get, dig in and hold on. My sister has no idea what she wants to do with her life yet, and that is fine, she is still young! I however have no doubts she will end up somewhere fabulous, doing whatever career she chooses to the best of her ability.

Before this post rambles on the way a typical graduation speech does (the THREE speakers at Emmalee’s commencement went from their freshman year, to ‘jamming out to TLC in the hallway’, politics, the crazy messages they left to each other on Facebook & Myspace, to their slogan “don’t hate 08’” and then finally to how they have all ‘grown as one in the last four years’ in a matter of 5 minutes (each), leaving me oh so very bored!), I want to say CONGRATULATIONS to my baby sister. As much as my inner self was tempted to scream as I did four years ago "Go Maroon, Go White", today I'm willing to say "Go Blue, Go Red" for my sister. So now I will wait another 6 years, until the last member of the Gough family takes that step into adulthood, my baby brother Sam, he’s only 12 now, but in a very short six years he’ll be walking across that stage, and I’ll be flying back to VA for yet another boring graduation! Ah, incredibly boring things you do for family! :P

A few shots of my incredibly miserable stressfull weekend with 2 hours of pure graduation boredom and a quick moment with family.

Please ignore the crappy lighting!

Showing off her diploma!

The announcement of the graduating class of 2008.

The dangerous hat toss.

The Graduate.

A (forced) sisterly picture. :P

I did mention she's my LITTLE sister... right? I know, it doesn't show... physically anyway.

Just a quick note: this post is here more to help me get through today, a little bit easier. I have to express my feelings somehow, and since I’m not yet allowed to go for a jog, cuddle up with the person who is on my mind, or jump on a motorcycle and go for a ride, I’ve decided to type it all out, hoping it will help to calm my nerves . If you’re going to read this, be prepared to be here for a few minutes, I have a feeling this will end up being quite long.

A year ago today, my life was drastically changed. In a matter of seconds I went from a happy, goofy, energetic, 21 year old who was full of life, to a 21 year old who wasn't so full of life; whose doctors were telling her family, “Due to the amount of trauma she received to her head, it is very likely that she will not remember any of you, it is also very probable that she will need to learn to read again. Start off small with books like “Go dog Go”, or some Dr. Seuss books and progress from there.” A few hours later the orthopedic surgeon stopped in to check on me and inform my family of the limits that were to be set, such as extreme limited range of motion for my right leg, absolutely no weight was to be put on it, no picking or lifting me up…etc. (I basically wasn’t allowed to be touched) and that I would be in my wheelchair for quite some time. He also gave them an estimated time frame on how long it would be before I should be able to ease my leg into walking again and then told them that I needed to continue to see a specialist when I got home to Florida, so that he can keep an eye on my hip and leg and make sure all was healing properly. I also needed to see this specialist to make sure that the ball of my hip doesn’t die, because if it did, it would need to be replaced. (supposedly this is quite common in hip dislocations).

Thankfully my mind and body decided they didn't want to go that route, my internal injuries eventually started to heal on their own, and later on in the day, after the doctors had told my family that bit of information, I was slowly beginning to read small sections of the local Knoxville newspaper, and to my family’s relief I remembered the name, middle name, maiden name, surname, and birthday of every member of my family that was in the room. They said I just went down the line and gave off the information I knew, as if I were taking a test. The doctor said he was quite impressed with how much I could remember, and then 5 months later…I was walking! Slowly… and with much assistance from a walker and a foot brace, but I was on my feet, and so relieved to know that my hip was showing some improvement. So I had my 1 year check up with my orthopedic doctor yesterday, he took another x-ray, the ball of my hip is still alive, but I do have bad arthritis in my hip now. No surgeries are scheduled for me yet, for now it’s just another MRI and some medication, but a hip resurfacing may come soon (if I choose to have it done), and a hip replacement may come in the later years of my life if needed. (hopefully not!)

It is still very difficult for me to accept that there are three weeks of my life that I will never remember. Part of me is obviously very thankful, as the memories would do more damage than help; however it is hard to know that during that period of time, I had absolutely no control over my life, and what happened to me while I was in the hospital. I was in ICU for two and a half of the aforementioned three weeks, and the final days were considered my ‘recovery week’. I can remember certain parts of the last day that I was in the hospital, but nothing before that. I remember waking up, seeing my mom sitting on the floor next to my bed, and when I realized where I was, I asked her what happened, and why was I tied down? She simply said “There was an accident; don’t worry your brother and Bryan are fine, (the drivers of the jet ski’s) and your fear of needles has obviously not subsided, because you keep pulling your IV out.” That day fades in and out, I remember eating fruit (as that is all I would allow to be put into my body for 3 months), I remember getting my bed wheeled down to the area where I was given another MRI, however I remember a much more violent version of what happened (due to head trauma), than what I've been told. I’m however still a bit skeptical on this. After I calmed down from my MRI, my physical therapist wheeled me down to the first floor, gave me a walker and had me hobble myself to my Papa's van (which was about 400ish feet away from the lobby), and then back to the lobby using only my arms and my [left] leg; so that I could gain as much strength in my arms as possible, because I would have to climb into the van to get home, without using my right leg. I could not be picked up or lifted in any way, so I had to rely on my own strength to get me in the van, which was extremely difficult, not to mention exhausting. You think it would have been pretty easy seeing as how I weighed only 84 lbs, but I had lost most of the muscle in my body because of the trauma, and lying in a hospital bed for about a month sure didn’t help. Once I was released to go home, I was a completely different person than I was 3 weeks before. The old Erin was missing, and although I was desperate to find her again, I had to push forward.

I’ve been told so many times, that the phrase I used the most, while in the hospital, even months after I got home, was “Troy and Tina, get them, I need them!”

These two are the only people who can bring back the spirit of the ‘old Erin’ in a matter of seconds. They know how to make me smile, and they never fail to do so. Tina drove from New Mexico to see me for a few days after I got home, but that was no where near the amount of time I needed her to be here; as for Troy I had no way to get in touch with him. (the Army probably wouldn’t have let him come anyhow) So I had to wait until he either came home for a visit, or started to play WoW (a computer game we play) again. Ah, the day I saw the phrase ‘Mercalio has come online’; I let out a high pitched squeal, I had tears in my eyes, and I probably would have jumped up and down like a 13 year old girl at a NKOTB concert, had my body been capable of doing so. This may sound lame, but talking to Troy while killing characters in a computer game helped to bring my spirit back enough, until he was finally able to come home in February. The day I was finally able to see him again just happened to be my birthday. What an incredible birthday present right? Even though it wasn’t necessarily meant to be a birthday present, it made my day, week actually! A whole week spent with the two people who mean so much to me, (although at separate times), was just what my mind and body needed; love and tons of laughter.

So here I am a year later, and I’m still in the recovery process. I have been told it will probably be a few years before several things are back to normal. There are still some restrictions as to what I can physically do, and there are still large amounts of pain, dizziness, etc., but that is all a part of healing, and will hopefully subside with time. I have grown and learnt so much from this experience. Yesterday I was told of some problems that I have now, and what may come in the future, but I refuse to let them phase me, I’m only 22, I have plenty of things left to do! Get into the University of Tennessee’s college of Social Work (crosses fingers hoping she’ll be accepted), graduate with my BSW (bachelor of social work) and then my MSW (masters of social work); begin a career as a child welfare social worker, marry the love of my life, hopefully have a child or two in a few years, enjoy life, grow old and be very happy (while continuing to dress stylish and sexy, so that all the old grandpas try to whistle through their dentures as I strut by! o_0 Hey, who said you can’t be attractive and have some fun when your old and gray! :P ) So for now I’ll continue to manage my ‘PTSD’ the best I can, live life as it comes, and just enjoy it as much as I can.

To be honest, I didn’t think that writing this would help very much, but surprisingly I feel less stressed out than I did earlier this morning. There is so much more that I could say, but I will end it here as this has already ended up much longer than I had expected, and I’m sure that if there is anyone who has even gotten this far, is probably very tired of my rambling. So I am off to get some of my social work homework done, so that I can prepare for a test.

6/2/07 The day before.

The big mistake.

The result. (The day I was released from the hospital)

The Beautiful flowers.

The cat who enjoyed my wheelchair more than I did,(silly Luci)

This is an older poem (written 6/30/07) of mine, but since the 1 year anniversary is coming up, I thought i'd post it.

My Tribulation

Right now it hurts too much to cry,
my mind is in one place, my body in another.
My independence temporarily taken away,
I must rely on others for my care.
My voice is ignored, my opinions pushed to the side,
the small amount of spirit and freedom I have left,
is diminishing quickly, I need to catch it before it goes,
but I am restricted to this chair.
They wonder why I don’t talk, and why I don’t eat,
they fail to see that I choose not to do these things,
for they are the only things I can control.
I try and try to re-find myself,
I fail; I can not do it alone,
the two people to help bring her back,
are nowhere to be found.
I hope that when I find them,
they will help me revert to my old self.

Blame it on astrological happenstance (I'm a hot-headed, two-sided, Aquarius) genetic predisposition or perhaps some mild form of mental illness, but the fact stands that I generally have two emotions. The first one is called 'up' and consists of singing, dancing, laughing and talking-loudly. The second is called 'down' and involves moping, intermittent sleeping, uncontrollably cleaning my condo, and more loud-talking. I can't help the polarity of my feelings and they manifest in many ways. For example:

I hate technology.

I love technology.

See what I mean?

Firstly, I hate technology because it makes everyone obsessed with being connected all the time. I'll be in an in depth conversation with someone, only to have them pick up their constantly beeping phone and reply to a text message. Making sounds like 'MmmHmmm' and 'Yep, yep', while beeping away on your key pad does NOT make me think you are listening to my input on the conversation that YOU started. I hate that being without internet for 10 days makes me feel like I’m not connected to the world. Phones, newspapers, books and human conversation should be enough stimuli, no? I hate that people spend more on special televisions than I spent on my first car, and that said TV's have started to replace art over fireplaces all over North America. I hate that not having texting capabilities on my cell phone makes me an inconvenient freak among my friends.

I love technology because it makes my ridiculously busy life a bit easier. I can shop, bank and correspond all at once, while the rest of my time is spent on work, school, physical therapy and sleep. I love technology because it helps to keep us safe, by means of fire alarms, burglar alarms, etc. Without the internet I would lose touch with several very important people in my life, one lives in New Mexico with her husband and kids, the other is deployed to Afghanistan for the next 13 months and 15 days, and my sister, brother, stepmom and dad all reside in Virginia. I like that if need be my cats (and future dog) could be tracked with a chip implanted in their shoulder, all you have to do is run them over a grocery-store like scanner and there is the information needed to get in touch with the owner so that they can return home safely.

At the end of this internal discussion (which is much, much longer when played out in my head), it's always a draw. I want to be connected, but have the option to disconnect without everyone (ahem, my mom) freaking out they can't get a hold of me immediately.

Even though I am very thankful for technology, I must admit that today was a day where I despise the invention of the telephone, well not necessarily the telephone, but the hold button, and the ability to transfer a call to another telephone.

I was notified today that one of my courses had been canceled, and that I need to either re-register, or wait for my refund. Well I had some complications while re-registering, so I decided to call the registrar’s office, and this is where the fun began. I was transferred to 3 different women; the last was an elder woman who put me on hold for 30 minutes, while she assisted other students? Ah well, she then transferred me to another woman, and so on… until 18, yes 18 women later I am transferred to the department for the actual course that was canceled. I begin to explain my situation, and straight away she says, is this Erin? Ah, the relief that someone finally understood my situation and knew exactly what I was trying to say, as she was the person who called the house and told my roommate of the cancellation. She explained what I needed to do in a matter of 2 minutes, apologized for the crazy phone transfers and then told me to contact her if there are any further issues.

In that hour that I was on the phone dealing with the crazy transfers and explanations, I was so very tempted to find a voice recorder and record what I was trying to say, rather than wasting my breath the many times I had to reiterate my situation, to the new and improved lady on the other end of the phone line. I however did not, and just sucked it up and gave my lungs a very long work out.

So for the last few hours I have been in the “I hate technology” mood, but I’m hoping that I get to talk to one (all would fantastic, unfortunately it’s very doubtful!) of the people I mentioned above who are a sadly very distant from my location in Florida, so that I can revert back to the “I love technology” side.