I have a problem. It makes zero sense. I don’t know why I’m compelled to share this, but I think we’re close enough now that I can trust you with this information. Here it is: I mix up R’s and 9’s. Yep, you got it.

I know people who mix up colors, perhaps orange and green – Jess. But mixing up a number and a letter, who does that? I do.

You can imagine it becomes difficult giving people confirmation codes and the like. “My number is 265-R670.” “I spell my name C-A-9-I.” Ridiculous.

I was trying to pay a bill the other day and you better believe the girl on the other end of the phone had no idea what I was talking about. Upon repeating the confirmation code, I realized my error and was reminded of my bizarre thought process.

The thing is, they don’t even sound the same. I could maybe understand 3 and B or 5 and cantaloupe. Nine and Arrr; that’s just silly!

In case I make this mistake in your presence, please forgive me.

What a way to make a living!

I was sitting at work today, tired – as always. I was listening to my favorite podcast “Stuff You Should Know” from HowStuffWorks.com. Sidenote: Josh and Chuch, you’re the best!

I decide to close my eyes for just a second. I’m still listening to the podcast, aware of what’s going on around me, and I start dreaming. I’m not asleep, mind you. The weirder thing is that it was a continuation of a dream I had a couple weeks ago that I had totally forgotten about.

The only thing that got me out of the weirdi trance was my ringing phone.

My first thought was that I was having a lucid dream. The only problem was that I wasn’t in REM sleep. What the weird was that all about?! And I should have been dreaming about how to steal a nuclear bomb – the topic of the podcast – but no, it was just some random dream I already had.

Any thoughts?

The first day I had the Sweet Machine after the months of repair, I was stoked to say the least. She was truly a sweet machine and I loved her. I drove her to work with great pride.

I drove her to work without a hitch. After work, I hopped in with full confidence. Everything seemed normal, except for some reason University Avenue seemed so bumpy that day. And the weird thing was, it kept getting bumpier. With each stop, it got worse and worse. “Why is this street so bumpy today?” I asked myself repeatedly.

The best way to describe the feeling in the car is that only the front left quadrant of the car was going over terrain consisting of consecutively placed speed bumps and pot holes.

After sweating bullets, I miraculously made it to Jenn and Josh’s. When I got out of the car, the front driver’s side tire was at a 60-degree angle in relation to the ground.

When Josh came out to look at the car, he said, “Yeah, there are no bolts holding that tire on. There were only two when we got it and I broke one. I made sure that last one was on real tight, though. But that broke, too.”

These are the kinds of things I would’ve liked to have known before I risked my life getting into the car.

And yet I decided to risk my life yet again as Josh and I drove to Les Schwab. Josh drove behind me with his hazard lights on because mine, of course, didn’t work. Legal? Maybe not.

We got us some new bolts tightened to the right specs and The Sweet Machine and I were on our way again.

I was thinking about The Sweet Machine the other day. I feel like people who never got to know The Sweet Machine, don’t really know me. The Sweet Machine was a significant part of my life and I’d like to share a little bit about her.

She was a red ‘88 Acura Integra. The word you’re looking for is sexy. I bought her for a cool $300 when I moved to Utah. It was the best investment I ever made. Well, investment probably isn’t the best word considering the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of dollars and hours put into making her run. But I cherished every second.

Let me tell you how The Sweet Machine got her name:

When I bought The Sweet Machine, she didn’t run. Most people might see this as a problem, but I merely saw it as an opportunity to make her awesome. I left that part to Josh.

She lived at Jenn and Josh’s for a couple months while Josh would slave over her on Saturdays. Every time I would call to check on her progress, Josh would say, “It’s gonna be a sweet machine.” And the name was born.

There was always a huge list of things that were wrong with her, some “more fatal than others” (I’m just going to see how many posts I can use that quote in). But Josh’s reaction to most of those problems was, “Yeah, I’m not going to fix that. Care, you don’t really need shocks/headlights/hazard lights/wheels.”

There’s something about having no assurance that you drive anywhere safely – or actually arrive at your destination – that makes you feel alive!

Let the adventures begin!

I’m in a very dangerous line of work. I work with paper. Yeah, you heard me right.

If you’re picturing horrendous paper cuts, you’re partly right but that’s not what keeps me up at night. While, I must admit, I’ve had some pretty good ones; some “more fatal than others.”

But what I’d really like to address is the unidentified fluids that stain many of the papers I handle daily. A little background: I work at a disability law firm where people send in their Social Security paperwork and we file their claims for them. So you have to understand that these people have some pretty serious diseases and I am handling their fluid-stained paperwork.

We often try to guess what fluid we’re dealing with. Coffee? Lemonade? Who knows? But today, there was no question. There were full on drops of blood on this paper. My first thoughts were, “What is wrong with this person, how is their condition transmitted and do I now have the hiv?”

But even more treacherous, a few weeks ago I was handling the papers as always; throwing them to and fro. When suddenly I passed one a little too close to my face and my mouth was open just enough. I totally licked the piece of paper. The freaking out commenced. So now when I tell you I have the hiv, you know of two different instances where I could have contracted it. And I just want to say, I love you all.

I must warn you, this story is not for the faint of heart. I was just telling this story to Jenn the other night and I remembered terrifying it was. And I though to myself, “Something this horrifying should be shared with the blogosphere.”

It was back in the day when I was living in New York. The BYU students were a couple blocks out of Harlem in Columbia’s dorms. I was on the eighth floor on the side facing away from Riverside Park.

It was a normal night. I went to bed in my closet of a room and fell asleep. I was woken up at about 4 a.m. to the most horrifying sound in the world. (Sidenote: If you know anything about me, you know I am a professional sleeper and don’t wake up for anything.) The sound I heard can only be described as a man getting hit it the knees with an aluminum bat, his body falling to the ground and then blood curdling screaming and yelling.

I have never been so scared in my life. I was on the eighth floor but I was sure whoever hit that dude with a bat was going to come upstairs and kill me. Luckily we had crazy security in our building. The screaming went on for a few minutes but it felt like forever.

Eventually the screaming stopped. So either the guy passed out from pain or left somehow.

The next morning I found out that it happened on the opposite side of the building from me on the edge of Riverside Park. Yet it sounded like the guy was screaming in my ear.

If you thought the fear stopped there, you’re dead wrong. The next night, my friend Mike and I were watching House in his room as we did every night. We looked out his window overlooking Riverside Park and there were tons of police cars with their lights on. Then there were all these cops looking all through the park with flashlights.

We still have no idea what they were looking for. But considering the surrounding happenings, I’m going to go with body parts. Gew. :/

But in the words of John Candy, “We can laugh about it now. We’re all right.”

In the words of a great friend and brother, “It’s time to make a quilt.” “Wow, that sounds lame,” you might be saying to yourself. Oh, how wrong you are. Making quilts is what some people do, we’ll call him Josh C. Superstar to protect his identity, when you need something to take your mind off the pain in your chest that evidences itself in random bouts of crying. Josh once made the best quilt in the world after one of the many times my sister broke up with him.

At this point, I have nothing else to do but “make a quilt.” Sure, I don’t have any quilting supplies but I’m going to keep myself busy in other ways to keep my mind off things.

My first step was singing in the Institute choir. I only did this because I thought that was all you had to do to get into the choir that will be singing in General Conference. Turns out you actually have to be enrolled in Institute to be in the Institute Choir. Absurd! So now I am enrolled in Institute. Then I found out you actually have to audition. What the?! Auditions are this Thursday. We’ll see how this goes. I’m hoping it works out, if only to have something else to occupy my mind during the week.

What I’m most excited about is …. drum roll please ….. Drum lessons! That’s right, drum lessons. My sister Kris got me lessons for Christmas and I am crazy excited. It was really the perfect gift. I don’t know why, but when I was like 15 years old I decided I was a great drummer. Had I ever touched drums? No. But I was sure of it. Now we’re about to find out if I was right. This could be a huge disaster, but it’s going to be the best! Thanks, Kif!

I also have about 800 books to read, my new ukulele to break in and perhaps some buzz.io work. There’s my quilt. I’m feeling better about 2010 already.

….. But at least it was long.

I knew 2009 was up to no good. I could feel it in my bones. There’s something about that shady 9 at the end.

I used to think my Freshman year of high school was bad when everyone discovered I looked like Christina Ricci and had a butt that only large black men could love. In retrospect, what a wonderful year that was. Nothing that a few trips to the tanning salon and dance classes for 5 hours every day couldn’t fix.

But not 2009. I didn’t really notice until the other day when I was reviewing the year. Boy, this one has been a beast! It started out horribly – some of you may remember this …. Jenn – and then it got worse from there. Let me enumerate why:

1. Dumped for the first time ever (they don’t call me “Cari ‘love em and leave em’ Stewart” for nothing)  – It didn’t help that it also happened on my birthday. The thing was, I saw it coming from a mile away, which made it sufficiently slow and excruciating. Don’t worry, I’ve since healed.
2. Tons of great job interviews that went nowhere – As you may know, I majored in advertising and also want to work in advertising. The economy has left me, how you say, high and dry. Rest assured, I do have a job. It’s not the one I want, but it’s a job nonetheless. The only sanity I have during the day is my good friend Mr. John Wharff and a steady stream of Muse and Queen.
3. A chain of unsavory living situations – I’ve lived in three different places this year, the middle of which was the worst ever; the kind of place that wears on your soul. You know, the kind of place with paper thin walls where the people next door have frequent, insane sex within inches of your head. I wish that wasn’t literal. But since before New York, I haven’t lived anywhere that felt like home. I love this Kings of Convenience song “Homesick.” It makes me cry every time because it’s a little too familiar. The last lines of the song are the most poignant: “A song for someone who needs somewhere to long for. Homesick, cause I no longer know where home is.” (Sorry the video’s lame)
4. My car exploded – I was on the freeway and the timing belt broke. Two weeks and my savings account later, I had a moderately functioning car. Then a couple weeks later…..
5. My thyroid exploded – For details, see previous two posts.
6. Dumped for the second time – Unlike the previous break-up, this one can be compared to one of those insurance commercials. Everyone is happy talking about Christmas and flowers and then out of nowhere they get t-boned by some crazy driver. Well, that was me. I’m totally crazy about this guy. I’m talking legit, no-reservations crazy. For those of you who have been with me through my dating escapades, you know that doesn’t happen. Then out of nowhere it was over. Totally blindsided. One minute, I’m as happy as can be; my little heart is full and twitterpated. Then …. T-BONED. Heart: broken. I’ve never been so confused in my life. Luckily, I’ve since invested in some relationship insurance. The thing is, it doesn’t prevent the wreck.

   I’m just glad it happened now; what with the snow and gray skies and frigid air that freezes your soul and keeps you cooped up inside all day. It’s a recipe for mental wellness is what it is. If you’re wondering how I’m dealing, it requires regular and huge doses of Super Mario Bros. Wii. Those lava levels will make you forget your own name! And it always helps to listen to Muse’s FANTASTIC cover of “Feeling Good” a few times. It really does make me feel good and kind of mad at the same time.

So I sit here now with an 8-month-old scar and a new gaping wound on my heart, a scar across my neck, an average car, and the same resume with which I graduated.

This year has reminded me of getting caught in the riptide. I have a gift for identifying riptides, avoiding them, and immediately getting stuck in them for indeterminable amounts of time. You’re there treading water forever until you can muster enough strength to get yourself out only to find that you are stuck again puking up water and losing energy. Then eventually a nice surfer or lifeguard comes and saves your life. I’m just hoping it’s the tan surfer this time and not the girl lifeguard I’ve had in the past.

I’m almost positive that 2010 can’t be as bad as 2009. So I’m already off to a good start. But really, I’m determined to kick 2010’s butt. 2010 doesn’t know what’s coming! Because, you know what, It’s a new dawn, It’s a new day, It’s a new life For me… And I’m feeling good.

I’ll leave you with the scripture that has gone through my head a lot this year, Doctrine and Covenants 122:7 – “…. that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.”

It’s been a week since my surgery. Everything went well. I’m doing great.  Welp, see ya later.

Just kidding!

So here’s how it went down. I got to the hospital at 6:30 Monday morning with Mom and Dad. Around 7:30 I stop remembering things. But I hear Dr. Hamilton did some surgery. They made a nice little incision where we are hoping I will have a crease one day.  ☺

When they went in they noticed my thyroid was black. There were also bumps on the left side of my thyroid. At this point, they 86ed the whole “cut out half and see if it’s cancerous” plan and just took everything out. They also noticed a sneaky little parathyroid gland hanging out on my thyroid, so they peeled it away and hoped for the best (If you touch parathyroid glands, they stop working). And, as we all know, the parathyroid controls calcium.

Image via Wikipedia

There were also some weirdi little lymph nodes, so they took those out, too. They were thinking the two lymph nodes might have just had some fat deposits but they wanted to be safe. And who needs two lymph nodes when you already have 80? Not I.

As you can tell, they were very thorough. The surgery ended up taking about 3 hours when it was supposed to take 1 ½ hours if they needed to take out the whole thyroid. But let’s be serious, my thyroid was black. They better thorough. So I’m very grateful. ☺

If you’re having a hard time keeping up, here are my stats:

Thyroid: 0
Parathyroid Glands: 4
Lymph Nodes: 78

As I was coming out of anesthesia, my doctor was kind enough to tell me everything that happened and I quote, “We did a complete thyroidectomy because it was black.” He may have said other things that I may or may not remember, but I got the gist.

I stayed in the hospital that night. Then Wednesday morning they gave me some Percocet, thyroid meds, and calcium – in case my parathyroid had, in fact, died – and sent me on my way. And THANK YOU so much to everyone who came and visited me. Sure, I might not have known what was going on but I trust it was wonderful. ☺

So who’s wondering about cancer? Well, it turns out the lump that was taking over half  the right side of my thyroid was a follicular adenoma, which is a benign tumor. So great news! Since they took everything out when they were in there, I’m all done! No iodine drink! Nothing!

Now who’s wondering why my thyroid was black? Well, they are thinking that the lump was preventing the blood from leaving my thyroid, so it was using the same blood over and over, therefore turning it black.

At my post-op today, we found out that my parathyroid glands are working, so I don’t have to take calcium anymore. Which I am super happy about because they’re horse pills. My incision is also looking very good. They just ripped my little tape off, which may or may not have hurt … a lot. I should be able to move my head around like normal in about two weeks (My neck is all kinds of tight, so when I sing or yawn or talk I can feel every little thing going on in my throat. Weird. And don’t even think about sneezing after surgery on your neck. (Sorry for the parenthetical tangent)).

So everything’s good! Now get ready for the corny. Thank you so much everyone for your prayers and fasting and thoughts. I can’t believe how amazingly supportive everyone has been. Thank you for sweet messages that made me laugh and cry. It really meant so much to me. I am so blessed to be surrounded by such amazing family and friends.  Thank you.

So, I haven’t been posting so much lately because there’s not much going on. But something happened! Granted, not a good something, but a something nonetheless.

I have had this lump on my throat for a while now. I was sick, so I thought it was a swollen lymph node and I didn’t really worry about it. But it was getting bigger.

This Monday (Oct. 5th) I went to an ear, nose, and throat doctor who immediately recognized it as a mass on my thyroid. He talked briefly about maybe it being a cyst and how great that would be. He then delved into all of the different kinds of cancers I can have on my thyroid. Luckily, I didn’t really qualify for the two cancers that are crazy rare and not treatable. But there were two other Thyroid Cancers in the running but they’re “the ones you want” apparently.

As I left Dr. Hamilton’s office, he said, “So I’m just hoping for Thyroid Cancer.” I told him my vote was also for Thyroid Cancer only because I hoped he was joking.

Needless to say, I was freaking out. I tried to play it cool but totally lost it as I walked to my car.

We still needed some answers so I made an appointment to see the endocrinologist. I had my appointment yesterday. In order to know what was up, I needed to have an ultrasound and a biopsy. The ultrasound would tell us if the mass was full of fluid or if it was solid. If it was full of fluid, we would just suck that business out and be done.

For those of you who are at all familiar with my medical history, you know I always have some crazy cyst taking over my life. So, understandably, I was sure it was a cyst.

But, alas, the time for the ultrasound came. To my dismay and the two endocrinologists in the room, it was a solid nodule. It was larger than a centimeter, which I guess is pretty big; to the point that they were surprised I didn’t have a hard time breathing or swallowing (Which is kind of a lie because I have been having a hard time breathing for a few weeks when I would go to bed.  If my pillow would even think about touching my throat, you better believe my windpipe didn’t even try to do its job). Cancer was then an option. That’s when you start crying in the doctor’s office.

At that point, we knew I needed surgery to remove the nodule. My right lobe would also have to be removed with the nodule. However, we didn’t know if the nodule was cancerous or not. I was hoping that they would be able to do a biopsy right then, but the soonest my doctor could do it was next Thursday (Oct 15th).  As you can imagine, waiting nine days to find out if you have all kinds of cancer is not acceptable. The only comfort was knowing that it was the Thyroid Cancer you want to have. ☺

If I were to have cancer, they would remove my whole thyroid and I would be on thyroid meds for the rest of my life. The nice thing about this cancer is that it doesn’t require chemo or radiation. They just take everything out and then I drink some iodine drink and it’s done.

So I was waiting all yesterday to hear back from Dr. Maturlo (Endocrinologist) and Dr. Hamilton. Definitely didn’t hear back from them. I called Dr. Hamilton this morning and we decided that we would wait for Dr. Maturlo to do the biopsy to determine if one lobe was coming out or both. So we would get the results back on the biopsy next Monday and then we would do surgery October 26th. Call me crazy, but I didn’t want to wait that long. So a new plan was presented.

We would forgo the biopsy. Instead, we would have a pathologist in the operating room. As soon as the right lobe and nodule were removed the pathologist would cut it open and check it out for cancer. If there’s cancer, we’ll take out the rest of my thyroid. If they don’t find cancer, the lobe will be sent to a final pathologist who will cut it all up into tiny pieces and check for cancer again. There is about a 5% chance that the final pathologist will find something the first one didn’t.

When he told me the surgery would then be on the 15th, I said, “Sold!” Of course, I asked Dr. Hamilton if he was comfortable about the new plan. He was. So that’s the plan.

The surgery is very straightforward; Dr. Hamilton wasn’t worried about it at all. The only risk is that there is a nerve that goes down and around your thyroid and connects to the vocal cords. If that nerve is damaged, I will have a scratchy voice. I prefer to say I will have a sultry voice. ☺ Unless I just sound like Marge’s twin sisters on The Simpson’s. Not cool. The chance of that happening is less than 1%, so I think I’m ok with that.

There you have it. I’ll have surgery in about a week at which time I will find out if I have been cancerous. Sorry if this post has seemed casual and almost jokey but it’s really all I can do to stay under control. And I was kind of freaking out before I even knew what was up, so I got a lot of it out of my system. I feel good about what’s planned. I’m scared out of my mind for the surgery (I’ve never had surgery), but it will be ok.

My family has also been helping a ton. Everyone has been super supportive and are willing to cry with me. ☺ Today our family had a fast, everyone has been putting my name in temples, and my brothers are coming over tonight to give me a blessing. There has been so much support; it’s been amazing. Sure they’ve only known for a day, but they’ve been champs, especially since this news came out of nowhere.

Stay tuned for cancer results! Geez louise, that sounds horrible. But what are you gonna do?