Hang out with yourself for the day. You deserve it.

I’ve been a little exhausted lately and by “little” I mean completely and wholeheartedly broken down tired. I may be overdoing it this semester, just a bit, but I do love being busy! But because I’m not the only one who tries to do it all, I’ve composed a list of signs that you need a day of Gilmore Girls, or maybe in your case Breaking Bad, Grey’s Anatomy, The Hills, How I Met Your Mother or every single Harry Potter movie. Whatever floats your boat! Just take a day to drift in and out of sleep in front of an awesome series all bundled up and relaxed. Take a day for you! 

My dramatic interpretation of exhaustion. (you're welcome)

You’re in need if you show any and especially ALL of these signs:

You have experienced many mental blackouts.

When I say “mental blackout,” I mean those times when you are walking or driving some place and suddenly arrive at your destination, blinking, realizing that you have no recollection of the entire journey (oops). Or those times when you’re sitting in front of the TV and you suddenly realize that you’ve been watching the news for about 20 minutes, but when you sat down you were watching Ellen…

You regularly wake up in a panic state.

I’m talking mainly naps here, folks. These are the times when you wake up on the couch (or futon) to a brightly lit window and are 100% positive that you have missed a class, meeting, date, practice, etc. and it is the end of the world. Personally, these moments are terrifying. I woke up last week from an full 5.5 hours of sleep with a huge sinking feeling in my stomach because I truly believed that I had forgotten about meeting the little elementary school student I mentor. It was an awful feeling. BUT, then I came to terms with my life and realized I had an entire “to-do” list to accomplish, so I rallied from my slumber.

You haven’t been to bed before 1:00AM in ages.

Midnight is no longer a sign that you should be sleeping anymore. Dark hours that you never used to fathom being awake for are recently your most trusted times. When you finally climb into your bed, you are fully aware that an alarm will wake you up far too soon as soon as you close your eyes, which is the worst feeling ever.

You genuinely cannot remember seemingly basic information.

These are the REALLY embarrassing times when you forget everyday information about yourself. I experienced the sinking feeling of forgetting my debit card number, recently. The cashier was not impressed with my common sense. Let me tell you, it was terrifying. You feel as if you’ve lost your marbles! Other things you may forget include: your phone number, password to Facebook, email address, mom’s maiden name, etc…

You’re snacking a lot. OR, for some people, you forget to feed yourself.

This one is tragic. I mindlessly snack when I stress, but a friend of mine will get so overwhelmed that she forgets to eat! As much as I wish I had her issue, that is terrible! When you no longer realize you are hungry it is well past time for you to spend a day with yourself. Or when you find yourself at the bottom of the Cheez-It box and are confused as to who took them, you’re ready all right.

I suggest you run home, grab your body pillow you substitute as a boyfriend (just me?) and settle in. You’re going to have a FANTASTIC day with yourself. And tomorrow? Well, that comes tomorrow.

HOSPITAL.

10/3/2012

I am sitting in the cardiac wing of the Intensive Care Unit.

It’s fantastic. (joke)

The man laying 10 feet away from me is Grandpa Gib.

He’s NINETY.

Sleeping beauty at the moment, but he’s doing SO well.

Keeping two thumbs up, literally.

It’s smells sterile, similar to hand sanitizer.

Which is everywhere, by the way.

The steady sound of beeping never stops.

It’s the only consistent sound around here.

Grandpa looks like a fish with his mouth open.

Calmly breathing, very peacefully sleeping in the midst of chatter and cleaning.

Our doors to the room are wide open.

Leaving the conversations of blood pressure and heartbeat to flow right in.

The TV is on mute.

My Aunt keeps herself busy by rocking back and forth.

She walks around observing every detail of the room.

They’re doing some kind of remodeling in a protected area of the wing.

The steady beeping is still going.

Now another beep joins it.

Grandpa has a pillow in the shape of a red heart lying on top of him.

It has an icon of an actual pumping heart printed on it.

He’s stirring.

AWAKE.

Cough, sounds painful.

He moves the heart pillow under his chin to make it easier.

His frail arms, spotted with age, pull it back down.

He makes small chat.

Does a pretty good job of it.

Enter: two relatives.

Grandpa says, “Yeah, I think I’m going to make it now…maybe.”

Joking about his life. Oh man.

“I haven’t been out much.”

Makes the relatives smile. And Aunt Sandy and I laugh.

“Time to get up for some dinner!” says the Nurse.

Her name is Allison.

She’s so sweet…

Grandpa Gib's hands. 9/2/2012

The part of the hospital that blows my mind are the people in the hospital. And I’m not necessarily talking about the patients. Let’s think, who do you find in a hospital? I came up with the basic people I think of and have decided to enlighten your lives with the people occupying the place I find so devastatingly fascinating.

DOCTORS: They’ve got a tough job to do. Lots of bad news, but within the bad is always some good. Saving people, for instance, has to be an incredible feeling. Can you imagine telling someone in a very sad situation that they are going to live? Amazing.

NURSES: heroes.

Nurses never get the amount of credit they deserve. They do SO much to help. They communicate with scared family members and make them feel at home. They do a lot of explaining, because often times, they’re easier to talk to than intimidating doctors. And if anything goes wrong, they’re running to help. These people are doing a lot of tough things, but my goodness, they are truly lifesavers.

CLEANING GUY: Yesterday, Grandpa was sleeping with the doors open, and a man who looks as if he’s sitting on a Zamboni comes vrooming right in front of the doors. THREE TIMES. This guy is just doing what he is told. Good for you, sir. And I wouldn’t look anyone in the eyes, either.  

PATIENTS: Leaving the hospital at about 10:45 last night I thought to myself, how awful would it be to stay in a hospital overnight? Even if you’re there for a positive reason, it must be terrible to wake up to beeping, monitors, the smell of hand sanitizer, an uncomfortable bed, and yet another nurse saying, “Hi ______, I’m ______. I’m just going to do a quick check of your blood pressure. Sound OK?” Let alone, the pain (assuming you’re not there for the miracle of birth).

FAMILY: the ones who struggle.

My experience in hospitals takes place mainly in ICU wings or cancer wards. Neither one of those being places anyone wants to be……….ever. The part of hospitals that catches me the most off guard every time is the people. If you look around, there are people everywhere. The wives, husbands, kids, family friends, brothers, sisters, pastors, classmates, and parents of those hurting people fill every corner of the hospital.

            The first kind of people are those you can see are living at the hospital. The ones just waiting, praying, hoping, that something will get better today. These people, break my heart. It’s routine for them. And as much as they dream of a nurse emerging to share good news, they secretly hope no one comes out bearing more sad reports. You can also tell by their children. The kids who are way too comfortable in the setting of the hospital, running from family member to family member, entertaining themselves with their iPods and acting normally in an abnormal environment.

            The second kind are those who are confused. The family members who get called to come visit, but are very uninformed and in a bit of shock. Everything happened so fast, so they have not correctly gauged their reaction yet. They come in nervous, but happy. Waiting to be informed.      

            Those who are crying are the most heartbreaking. There is not one thing anyone can say to make him or her feel better. Sitting at the Starbucks across from the surgery wing yesterday, I watched a young woman walk by with puffy eyes and softly crying, alone. No one is very affected by these people, which is the most frightening part. No one looked or stared and watching the Starbucks baristas work, unaffected, I wondered what they must see every day. Devastating.

            In conclusion, I’ve spent some time learning the ICU systems in Des Moines, and I hate to think of what others have to go through in those same wings. I am so incredibly grateful to every person who put their energy into having faith in my Grandpa about four years ago. After 41 days, he got better. He couldn’t speak to us, was not responsive, was hooked up to so many things that we were not able to sit in with him, he lost a ton of weight, and looked like a stranger and yet today, as my mom says, “You would never know.” A miracle was performed by those ICU caretakers. I wish the best to anyone who finds themselves in a waiting room. My prayers are with you, always. 

The L-Word.

I, Anna McConnell, am terrified of 1. Commitment and 2. The L-word.

For now, let’s ignore that first fear (I’m breaking into a cold sweat here, folks) and let’s zero in on that second one, the word love.

If you know much about me, you know that I get mildly uncomfortable when the L-word is thrown casually about in daily banter. (Ex. “Love you, girl!” and “Oh my God, I seriously love you!”) The only uses of the word that I am comfortable with is a compliment on my outfit, handwriting, hair, etc. or my sassy writing skills. ;)

To be honest with you, this wasn’t always a problem. MY theory is that my issue with the L-word started in middle school, just like my issue with the term “best friend.” In middle school, everyone is running around feeling insecure, looking for a boyfriend who has already entered adolescence, and trying to be a part of the “popular” group. I, like other loud 12-year-olds, clung to a variety of different kinds of friends and was soon introduced to the “LYLAS” saying. Oh yes, “love ya like a sis.”

Like any avid AIM-er, this term was one I threw at all my girlfriends. And eventually, “love ya” was the conclusion of nearly every carefully written note passed in class. But hey, everyone else was saying it, so of course I was going to use it too! And from here stemmed my first encounters with the L-word used to anyone but my close family and family friends.

In high school, my boyfriend said “I love you” accidentally to me and thought I didn’t hear. My reaction? My nearly asleep body jerked alive and my extremely alarmed voice blurted, “WHAT did you say?!” Needless to say, he was terrified. I probably ruined all of his future relationships by scaring the dickens out of him when he said “I love you” to a girl for the first time (sorry about that…).

I said it “first” to that same boyfriend months later in a card. Yeah, I chickened out, but it felt like a necessary step. To fast forward a bit, that relationship ended and here I am, the girl terrified of the L-word. BUT, I’m going to change, friends.

After sitting through this week’s 1.5 hours of college youth group, I’m ready to start loving everyone around me -- accepting, supporting, helping, and loving all who surround me. I figure if God can pour all of His love into me and have so much faith in my far-from-perfect and extremely sarcastic self, then I can surely follow one of His final commands,

A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know you are my disciples, if you love one another.

 (( John 13:34-35 ))

It is with this verse in mind that I am going to try to be open to the L-word from here on out. With every sorority sister, acquaintance, classmate, and stranger, I am making a promise to myself (and all of you) that I will keep an open mind. God couldn’t have created too many people that I could truly dislike, could He?

I am determined to do my best on this new goal, friends. Even if I start out by simply distributing more heartfelt Hallmark cards. I am turning over a new leaf in my attitude toward scary words. And I hope you all have the opportunity to enjoy one of my tight, genuine, and loving hugs, yourself!

Watch out world, you are about to be llllooooovvveeeddd. J

It's hot. And I am lucky.

I am sitting here dying of heat.

No, I am not outside…I am on the third floor of my lovely sorority house laying on my futon. It is stifling. The fact that I have three fans pointed at me makes no difference because they honestly just stir up the extremely humid and hot air. Perfect.

I have been here for a month in this weather and yet I am still complaining. Here’s why:

I was WAY too lucky as a kid.

My dad must have been right (oh gosh, that hurts to say) when he reassured me daily of how lucky I was to have all that my life included. Well, you’re right, Pops.

Until I left the place I’d lived all my life, I was completely ignorant of how unbelievably privileged I was growing up. And truly, how lucky I still am.

My life included new clothes, vacations, a 100-year-old air-conditioned home, two cats, another air-conditioned home, a dog, two healthy younger siblings, two varsity teams, a Morton building with a basketball court and TV room, an entire town supporting me, refrigerators stocked full of food, 24/7 access to homemade onion rings, five living grandparents, a car with my gas paid for, a beautiful lake home, DVR, and ohhhh soooo much more.

BUT, until I officially left all of that glory and arrived in Ames, I was so naïve about the lifestyle I was fortunate enough to grow up in.

So, let me just sincerely say,

Thank you.

Thank you Mom and Dad for all that you do and all that you’ve done for me.

And thank you to all those who are there for me now and who have been there all along. I feel so lucky to have each and every one of you in my life.  ♥

And I'm.........ALIVE!

I’ve been MIA, I know. And I don’t have any excuses worth telling. But, I am ready to fill everyone in about what I’ve been up to…

[[ Statistics homework, experimenting in the kitchen, serving elderly men beers, stat homework, swimming, entertaining guests, cleaning my house, celebrating my favorite holiday, statistics exams, Skyping, bonding with the family, reading, coughing (bronchitis), scrapbooking, swimming, having SO much fun with my friends, stat homework, reflecting, eating out, trying to figure out who I would like to be this year, and last but not least, thinking of things to do before I turn the big 2-0. ]]

Most of my summer was wasted on my computer trying to figure out the meaning of creative symbols mathematicians must have made up as a joke, but I did get creative and fit in plenty of time with my family, some big band music, I packed friends into the bunk beds with me, and learned to pull skiers, tubers and wake boarding folk behind the trusty old Sea Ray.

I am so lucky. In the 2 weeks since my final statistics exam, I have finished a TV series, had around 25 people in and out of the house, and am whipping through some scrapbooking/reading. I now recognize locals at most of the places I run errands to and eat out at, which is a wonderful feeling. Life has been just lovely.

In the Kitchen, I’ve created:

1. Buttermilk Blueberry Cake.

2. Homemade Whipped Cream.

3. Cappuccino Pops.

4. Cinnamon-Sugar Pull-Apart Bread.

5. The Perfect “Whatever is in the Fridge” Egg Scrambler.

6. Cake Balls (NOT my favorite).

7. Soft Pretzels.

8. Burgers. The Anna Version.

9. Chocolate Brownie Pudding.

In the house, I’ve entertained:

-       4 Sorority Sisters

-       6 Fraternity Men

-       2 Best Friends

-       1000000 of my family members and their guests!

I’ve also perfected the sunset pictures taken on this beautiful West Lake Okoboji. J

Sorry, again, that I’ve been so distracted by the events of the summer, but I hope you all have been as blessed as I have been in fun times and company! I’ll do better now, I promise. J Thanks for reading!