3.29.2011

hmm...

I'm home now. And it's weird. But okay. I feel like I've kind of lost my purpose with this blog. I don't know what it's doing for me anymore or where I want to take it. Before I left for Ecuador, I felt like I had a good set up and was figuring out a good system for what to post and share. But I'm quite confused now as to what I want my blog to be. I'll be sharing some Ecuador photos here and there, I'm sure, but we'll see what this blog evolves into. For now, here's a picture of my face painted by the most talented 4 year old ever.

DSC_0234

3.26.2011

perdido


I'm stranded. I spent the night in South Beach, Miami with an OSSO pal and some friends I met at the airport. I didn't expect the states to put me into culture shock. I didn't think I'd take a late night stroll along the beach, either. But never did I think I would bawl in front of a complete stranger while blubbering about "my kids".

This is hard.

3.23.2011

ultimo


Tonight's my last night in Cuenca. I have a million thoughts zooming in my mind, but I can't seem to harness them quite yet. But I do know that time is freaky. And I don't understand it at all. I'd like it to slow down. Justatich. Ya?

3.04.2011

rosado ojo

Lesson #63 of "Things I Learned in Ecuador" -- Appreciation. More specifically, appreciation for my body.

Saddest picture of me evar.
This is something I wasn't really expecting. But it's inevitable when you work with any sort of special needs children that this will be forcibly knocked into your brain whether you like it or not. It's hard to not recognize it when you're changing a boy with twisted ribs, crooked hands & a feeding tube, or when you help a grown woman who once had the ability to stand and dance and run and walk go to the bathroom and she can't even tell you how she feels about the fact that her life is becoming progressively more silent and more chair-ridden.

This morning, I woke up to my bunk mate saying, "Anna, can I do anything for you?" and a terrifying realization that I couldn't open either of my eyes because they were swollen the sealed shut with my own eye puss (TMI, lo siento). What a sobering realization when I discovered that I couldn't really do anything for myself because of my temporary blindness. I had to have help. I couldn't do it by myself. And that's a scary thought.

Everyday, I realize something new that I never appreciated. I can run, I can dance, I can jump, I can walk, I can move, I can read, I can write, I can speak, I can feed myself, I can brush my own teeth, I can change my own clothes, I can defaecate on my own, I can scratch my own arm, I can wipe my nose, I can do this and that and so much more. I haven't taken the best care of my body, but I do know that the opportunity to have one that (mostly) functions correctly is an incredible blessing.

That's all.

Just kidding, two more random things:


The Occidental Saloon just put out a video featuring the blessed Fictionist. It's awesome. Of course.

And I sang a Beatles song the other day. Take a listen. Produced by and featuring my insanely talented brother, Bobby James. THX BROHEIM.