I know that bad's got to fix itself.

I had a camera inside my body today. Ain't that cool?

It was a new one for me on the growing list of Sarah's Pointless Medical Tests. Though now that I think about it, I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner.

Now you're thinking... the female body has seven orifices, which one?! It was not my pooper, no worries. But my left nostril saw action that no nose should ever have to deal with (the right one got just a mere tickling in comparison)!

El doctoro shoved a half of a pea sized camera down my nose and into my throat to check for the bad stuff. With absolutely NO warning I might add!!! Just a "chin up" and swish into my nose. I cried.

My appointment with the specialist (ENT) this morning gave me four things that doctor visits always bestow upon me:
1. Invasive and uncomfortable tests
2. Promises/Papers to get more invasive and uncomfortable tests
3. Appointments with other doctors (yup, they're sending me to a different specialist now)
4. No answers

Are you guys sick of hearing me talk about this? I AM SO TIRED ABOUT TALKING ABOUT THIS. I feel like I've been on repeat for the past four years of my life. Seriously, go through the blog posts. Countless ones about illness, doctor's visits, medicine prescriptions, body meltdowns, sick days and everything else that makes me want to give up and live with sub-par health for as long as people with sub-par health live.

Whiny whiny whiny whiny whine whine whiny whiny. Bitch moan bitch bitch moan.

Am I overreacting? Am I a fucking hypochondriac? I hope so, I just don't want to be a Fran Drescher or a Kylie Minogue.

I am not my own, for I have been made new.

I remember Meagan and I used to joke that our lives would probably end when we turned twenty or so because we couldn't imagine them after that point. We had no idea what we'd be doing - what we'd even want to be doing. In our youth there is very little room to wiggle off the path that our parents or society tell us to follow.

But somewhere between high school graduation and our early twenties we are expected to forge a place in this world for ourselves. We're given no tools, little guidance, and lots of opportunities to fail.

Up until 2009 nothing exceptionally bad had ever happened to me. Nothing exceptionally great either. Basically, nothing exceptional. There were very few, if any, life changing moments.

2009 chewed me up and spat me out. It gave me feelings I can tell you right now that I have never felt before. How do you go two decades without experiencing every feeling there is to feel? I don't know. I wouldn't have believed it a year ago.

Never have I shed more tears. Never before have I experienced more moments of disbelief, anguish, mourning, love, humbleness, forgetfulness, gratefulness - every emotion ever times a thousand.

At the end of '08 I moved out of my parent's house and into THE MOST EXCEPTIONAL PLACE ON EARTH. Fuck Disney World, because Merrymeeting was WHERE IT WAS AT. I lived with two of the most strong and amazing women I have ever met (as well as a kindhearted sailor and a lovely Frenchman) and without them I would have crashed and burned during the very first month.

There I found the first boy I have ever said "I love you" to. In February he made me a mixed tape (literally), slipped love notes under my bedroom door and has loved me unconditionally ever since. Sometimes I wonder if all the strife and grief I've gone through this year is the karmic justice I pay for getting to have someone so wonderful in my life. Then I wonder if the depths of my emotions have just stretched. I guess I'll never know. But I wouldn't trade him for anything - not even a pony.

I responded to an ad on the job bank in January so I could pay my rent. As a result I spent the year helping raise three of the most ridiculous and hilariously amazing kids I've ever met. That family kept me afloat. They gave me a reason to drag myself out of bed after tragedy struck me again and again. Every time I was angry with God, with the world, it just took an afternoon of shooting aliens in the park to make me realize that everything is always moving. Time is always ticking. Why waste it being angry when I could be having fun?

I lost both of my maternal grandparents within the span of one month this summer. And to be honest, I haven't been the same since. My grandmother's death... I still can't talk about it. I still can't think about it without crying. I loved, I LOVE, her so fiercely. Always have and always will. I think I might have to leave it at that.

At the end of September I moved in with my boyfriend. It was a decision I don't regret, though I would have to say if I had my time back I'd want some more roomies. It gets super lonely/easy to be reclusive. This is a chapter of my life that I'm still writing so we'll have to come back to this one at the end of 2010.

The end of 2009 kicked my ass. A lot of stuff built up and up and up until OH MY GOODNESS WHAT A SURPRISE SARAH'S BODY AND MIND CAN'T HANDLE IT ANYMORE. And splat, the two collapsed and failed. I have been to the doctor about a dozen times in the past couple months. I have received no answers and my questions keep building. My last doctor's visit ended with my mom screaming at my doctor and me searching for a new one. For the first time in my university career I actually had to have some of my exams deferred.

But thanks to thousands of years of Chinese medicine, I've gained solace in acupuncture (that stuff REALLY works!). I also have an appointment with a specialist in two weeks. Answers will be gained! And my fear of having fear (or my anxiety about having anxiety) can be overcome. I will not let the wrongs and insecurities of 2009 leak into my shiny new 2010.

So that was my year. Sure there was other stuff, but these are the memories that stick out. This is the stuff that has shaped me into the Sarah of 2010. May the Sarah of 2011 be so lucky.

Pull your little arrows out.

Isn't my backyard enchanted?

So. My body took a step back this weekend and I found myself in the ER Sunday morning. Seems I pulled a muscle! This means my pill total is up to twelve a day. But they're muscle relaxers so I am only happy to take them. Mmmm, loopy goodness.

The doctor told me to take some time off work, but I went in yesterday morning with a loopy smile plastered to my face. Needless to say I'm off today as no one wants their children around a drugged up cripple.

To the people I was supposed to see this past weekend: how about next weekend please? I promise to make it extra special!

To the Metric fans: how golden is this new album? Fantasies is by far the best album to come out of 2009 (so far!). It is the best Metric album yet, so if you were considering becoming a fan DO IT NOW. The album hasn't actually been released yet, but you can listen for free on their Myspace (I'd recommend Blindness, Sick Muse, Satellite Mind and of course, their first single Help I'm Alive).

I think I'll soon need a Winting mix to go with my Wintumn one. Let's make it happen, Robyn!

Status of the car wash.

So it has been the longest sixteen days of your life, I'm sure.

If you were wondering whether or not I had given up the blog, the answer is: NOT. My computer has been in the back room of Avalon Software for the past eight days, trying its hardest to become a normal laptop. It barely succeeded.

What have I been up to these past two weeks...

Not a whole lot. Working five days a week with my kiddies! Playdoh, story time, Spider-Man/Villain, hockey, space adventures, puzzles, Toopy and Binoo... This is how I spend my days.

My life is a blurry mess right now. I'm working really hard to fix it and so far my effort has helped. Not only did I stop blogging, but I ceased to scrap and paint and exist for far too long. IT IS GETTING BETTER!

I've been planning trips in order to get me through the day. For Easter break me and five of my best our spending a few nights in the luxurious Little Harbour! Yes, three nights in a town of fifty people and no stores. We are very excited. No computers, no television, no driving, no ANYTHING. Beers and Easter ham, yes please.

My health has been steadily improving through the magic of prescription drugs. Ten pills a day... try and beat it. The sinus infection is kaput as well! Sunny skies.

I hope to see you all very soon.

I can teach you.

Let's update everyone on my life, shall we?

I still have a major computer virus (and thus my absence from MSN and this blog). Everything takes eight years to load and it really isn't worth the effort.

I went downtown the weekend with all of my lovelies (and oh did we look lovely! Check out Sierra and I there). We went to... Distortion! It is a well known fact that this is my least favourite bar on George Street, but there was a very special indie dance show. And boy did we dance!

I am sick again. Again with a sinus thing. I am going to seek a nose transplant. Or a kitty transplant (SHE POOPS IN A BOX NEXT TO MY WASHING MACHINE). I skipped school and work yesterday because of senor sinus. And monsieur blues.

Winter blues were taking root the weekend, but thankfully with all of this sun today (thirteen degrees, whaaa?) my mind is back on track.

My kids are great, thanks for asking. Two year old and I spent the day outside playing hockey. He kicked my ass.

This week tells of movie marathons, drunk bowling and special Robyn timez (hopefully!).

Love love love.

Where is my mind.

Things that are on Sarah's mind:
1. French, and how I am destined to fail it.
2. This song, and its wonderfulness.
3. Ill health, and the power it has over my life.
4. Acupuncture, and other such last resorts.
5. My need to finish school, and to get on with the rest of my life.
6. Parking tickets, and my apparent lust for them.
7. Boys, and their continuing lack of appeal.
8. Painting/reading/scrapping/drawing/knitting and everything else that gives me peace of mind, out the window because of the stress which is university.
9. Extra-long pants, and them making my life easier (and more enjoyable).

See like me.

My name is Sarah.

I live in the oldest and most easterly city in North America. The same city I was born in. And though I say I hate it, I think the place is tres pretty. You can tell by my obsession with photographing it.

My favourite colours are earth tones. This means I will always choose to buy a grey or brown shirt over a pink or yellow one.

I come from a long line of bread makers and tree cutters. But I’m pretty sure I could never do either thing adequately. I have one mom, one dad, one brother and no pets. I once had a fish named Hubert, whom I loved with a fiery passion. But he died.

I’ve never been to a wedding. Or to Europe. I’ve never swam a lap around a pool. Or gambled in a casino.

But I’ve been to a funeral. And I’ve lived in the Arctic. I might never have swam a lap, but I could probably run across the pool faster than you with my awesome water shoes. And although I’ve never played the slots, I’ve spent an afternoon sitting on a bench with my best friend pulling lotto pull-tabs.

Whenever I walk through the refrigerated section at Wal-Mart I am extremely tempted to buy cookie dough. I consider peanut butter toast a healthy and nutritious meal. I think bread with visible grains or nuts are gross.

I have more papillae on my tongue and less iron in my blood than the average person.

I brush my teeth in the shower, drink apple juice before leaving for work in the morning, and own more pairs of jeans than any person I know.

I don’t dream of owning a mansion, but a little old lady cottage complete with ugly flower patterned chesterfields.

I can’t spell "usually" without second guessing myself. Funny thing is, I can spell "antidisestablishmentarianism" without blinking an eye.

I like ponies, white calla lilies, Christmas lights all year round, clear cream soda, Icelandic music, vintage Molly Ringwald, Inuktitut, my gameboy, Emily Dickinson, stickers, rubber stamps, and any painting ever painted by Frida Kahlo.

I have friends that would make you jealous and a car that can take me anywhere I want to go (provided I fill her with $1.47/litre gas).

I strive to be honest and funny, loving and gracious, quiet and loud, respectable and respecting as well as thin.

Extreme Makeover House Edition makes me cry.

Just one guest.

I have been doing nothing but sleeping lately. Like seriously.

I don't craft or paint or venture outside or read or watch television. If I have to work I get up, go to work, come home and nap for a few hours, watch a movie, sleep. If I have a day off I'll sleep for like EVERZ, get up and watch a movie, and then sleep FOREVERZ again. I am a sick individual.

Speaking of sick, my grandfather is in the hospital. This would be west coast poppy as east coast poppy is no longer FTW. He was diagnosed with anemia and dehydration.

First of all, he lives in a retirement/nursing/old peeps home. Don't they have people to take care of supplying a sufficient amount of H20 to their residents?

Second, so it's my Mom's side of the family who cursed me with my weak blood! Grrr.

I'm all over the place. And so is my internet. And I really want to see a psychiatrist or something. And I want to go on ADD meds, that shit seems wicked.

Here are two and a half minutes of my new favourite song.

Pharrell is way hot. He's like the Matthew Bellamy of hip-hop.

Yummy.

Adequate treatment.

If you’ve checked any provincial or national news’ sites this week, you would have seen the latest scandal to plague the healthcare system. Only this time it takes place here in St. John’s.

A royal commission was launched after the government became aware of serious errors in breast cancer tests. Between 1997 and 2005, 1,013 women were subjected to faulty hormone testing.

The fallout? Some were told they had breast cancer when they didn’t. Others with breast cancer were told they were fine. Some were given inadequate treatment plans, while other perfectly healthy women underwent chemotherapy and mastectomies.

Mount Sinai found St. John's got it wrong for about a third of these patients. So 275 living patients didn't get the treatment they should have. As a result of discovering the error, about half of this group were then prescribed anti-hormone treatment. On March 18, 2008, a day before the beginning of the inquiry, the province confirmed that 108 patients who died did not get adequate treatment. In other words, 383 patients of 1,013 didn't get the treatment they should have.

It should also be noted that 50 women in Newfoundland and Labrador were mistakenly told they had advanced stages of breast cancer when they didn't. Some had mastectomies. The inquiry won't be addressing this problem specifically. [. . .]

The backlash from this discovery is going to be enormous in size. Every person who has been affected by this is going to seek retribution, and rightly so. But it does have the potential to get out of hand.

If you want to learn more, read one of the 158 news articles Google News links to.

Try as he might, he's unable to speak.

For the last two months I've been in like super-blogging-overdrive. It's a beautiful thing. Unfortunately all good things must come to an end and I've been uninspired as of late.

This might have to do with the fact that I reinstalled The Sims II and was given a new expansion pack for it (OMGSPLOSION, Seasons is awesome, a must need for any avid Simmer). I like to be productive virtually instead of literally.

It might also have to do with my abnormal sleeping habits. My body has forsaken its insomnia and taken up sleeping all the time instead! I will update later about zee visiting of doctors.

It could also be that I formatted my computer and lost Photoshop! Thus I am unable to do pretty captioned picture posts.

Now you might be saying to yourself, "but Sarah, you just did a pretty captioned picture post yesterday!" And to that I would say: "I did it in effing Paint". And working with Microsoft Paint is about as fun as getting curb stomped, so it will never happen again.

So photo strike starts today on The Little Blog that Could, until I find myself a nice free copy of Photoshop. To inspire my lovely friends whom I love dearly with all my heart and who are so awesome in all ways possible: I offer a reward to the person who gets me a nice free copy of Photoshop! A very awesome reward. I will take pictures of said winner with said prize and then do a pretty captioned picture post, thus lifting the photo ban.

I love you. Please help?

Lisa likes Nelson.

Tonight Sarah is very, very sick.

And only one thing has successfully cheered her up all day:

Sherri: She was looking at Nelson!
Kids: Lisa likes Nelson!
Milhouse: She does not!
Kids: Milhouse likes Lisa!
Janey: He does not!
Kids: Janey likes Milhouse!
Mr. Largo: Nobody likes Milhouse!

Casimir Pulaski Day.

Tonight has been the absolute bomb.

I got home from school around four with the intention of studying my ass off for the English test I have Thursday and the Sociology test I have Friday. For the record, English requires a lot of preparation (studying 7 different poets, say what?).

I. Am. Sick.

So, I decided I'd sleep until my parents got home and then I'd do some studying. I didn't hear them come and ended up sleeping later and waking up even sicker.

I tried to get in a positive mood and went downstairs. My mom was upset which made me apprehensive. She sat me down like I was five and tried to explain life to me.

My Aunt Cora, my most favourite of all relatives, was diagnosed with cancer yesterday. I'm pretty sure I died a little.

My Aunt Cora is my kindred spirit and we've known that since I was really young. Everyone in my family says I should have been her daughter, because of our personality and physical similarities.

It hurts to think about the situation she's in too. She has a son, my cousin, who is a year older than me. His Dad died like five/six years ago, so I know that everyone is thinking "If something happens to Cora. . ."

I really want to call my Nan, but I know she would be really upset (that is if they told her).

So, this night has been a bust. I've been sitting here sneezing and thinking, and most definitely not studying. But I'm doing this entry to get it off my chest and as soon as it is posted I'm going to pee and then get to work.