Little Miss Lexapro

Almost two years ago, my life changed. I moved halfway across the world, back to my hometown. As if that wasn't enough, I also experienced the greatest heartbreak of my life thus far. I was broken, but I got better.

I was on antidepressants for a little over a year, but have been off of them for about 10 months. They saved me. I lost myself, and they helped me find my way back. I took them for the deep depression I had been in. I am not depressed anymore. Not like that. I am happy to be alive. Yet at the same time I have not been happy.

Instead, I have been anxious. Approximately four months ago I had the first of many panic attacks in a long time. It lasted a whole day, and even when the panic attack stopped, the anxiety didn't. After some days, it faded. Maybe it was a couple weeks, I don't really remember. Since that time I have consistently been having panic attacks and anxiety pretty much every week.

Most of the anxiety revolves around my health. I don't know how to stop it. I sprained my knee a few months ago and then pulled my back muscles at the same time. I felt so awful, it sent me into a spiral. I went to the hospital for muscle spasms, and they were concerned I was having a relapse of Transverse Myelitis. I was not worried about it, but it was still stressful. The MRI tech went home already so they decided to give me a CT scan. On that scan they found a nodule in my lung. Another thing to worry about. 

If it's nothing, it's nothing. If it's something, it's probably cancer. That's scary, but they said there was a 90% chance it was nothing. You cannot give those odds to someone with a rare disease. I have beat odds before. In bad ways and good ways. Percentages don't mean shit to me. Somehow I didn't let myself obsess over it.

Two months later, I got another CT scan. "The nodules look good. No cause for concern," they said. Nodules. Plural. There was only one on the previous scan. I pointed out that fact, and was told my scans would be sent to a pulmonologist for review. Cue me worrying. After a couple long days, my amazing doctor (really, she is incredible already just as a resident) called me at like 7PM and told me that everything truly was good. Turns out the first scan just cut off before the other nodules could be seen. They likely were there all along, and are so small that they don't think they are anything to worry about. Relief. Or so you'd think.

Recently I had a migraine that caused temporary kaleidoscope vision and peripheral vision loss. It was terrifying. I felt like I couldn't catch a break. It's like my body hates me. I started to feel lost again. This time, not in depression, but anxiety. I didn't feel like myself at all. I was consumed by the anxiety and panic. I finally broke.

It's been a week since then. I called my doctor and immediately started back on my antidepressants. They work for anxiety too. Hopefully I will notice the full effect in a month or so. The side effects have actually already inadvertently helped with my anxiety. Can't have intrusive, obsessive thoughts when you are spaced out. Or when you are so nauseated all you can think of is trying not to vomit. Today the nausea finally calmed down. I have an appointment with my doctor in the morning, where I will ask her to help me find a new therapist. I feel optimistic for the first time in a while. I am feeling like I'm getting myself back.

I think the main thing I have come to realize with all of this is that I might just be a lexapro lady. I stopped taking it because I felt like I had something to prove. I wanted to show myself that I didn't need medicine to be happy, but off of it I felt like my brain wasn't mine anymore. 

It's okay if I need the medicine. I don't need to prove anything to anyone. I take medicine for my bladder, and I've never felt like I needed to prove my bladder worked just fine without it. So why do that with my brain? I need the stability that lexapro provides me, so that I can enjoy life and live in the moment. It's okay. I'm not broken. I just need a little help, and I am glad I am finally accepting that help again. 

C. Diff.: The Infection That Made Me Give A Shit (Or 20) About It

Hello and welcome to my yearly blog post, where I tell you about whatever shitty thing is currently going on in my life! If you've seen my instagram, this is just going to be a lengthened version of my most recent post there. I like keeping you all in the loop whenever things are happening in my life, and as I always say, writing feels therapeutic to me. So here it is-

(TW: talking about death and weight) 

Life hasn’t been pretty for me lately. It’s just been one bad thing after another, after another, and this time the bad thing made me stare death right in the face. I have have clostridium difficile. A.K.A. C. Diff. It’s a bacteria in the gut that releases toxins. It gave me diarrhea for THIRTEEN days straight. It also caused excruciating pain. 

The thing is, I’m not so good with pain, because I always tell myself it’s really not that bad and that I should just try to push through it. But I was crying from the pain. I literally thought I was going to die, because I felt so awful. The worst part was that I got to a point where I almost felt like I’d give up. I couldn’t take it anymore. I just wanted it to end. It was really strange to be at that point, because lately I have been doing well in regard to my mental health. The pain was so overpowering though. 

My mom convinced me to go to the E.R. finally, after 10 days of this, and I got the diagnosis. C. Diff. is dangerous and extremely contagious. I might never have my digestive system go back to normal. Most people have never even heard of it. Who knows how I got it, but it seems like it decided to take over after the recent round of antibiotics I took for strep throat. Apparently the bacteria can live in your gut without causing harm, but if you don't have any good bacteria to overpower it, it decides to start producing spores that release toxins (something along those lines anyway). The toxins are what really cause all the problems. Damn those toxins! 

Besides the excruciating pain, I was going to the bathroom upwards of ten times a day, and I had nausea which made it difficult to eat. I lost a lot of weight. I am scarily thin, at a little less than 100 pounds. I haven’t weighed this little since I was 12 years old. I can see my bones, and I’ve just watched myself wasting away. It has been terrifying. I mean, I love that spooky season is coming up, but I don't need to be the skeleton myself! (Please excuse me for trying to lighten the mood with this AWFUL joke).

Anyway, I’m getting better now. I am finally eating full size meals again, but the food is bland and boring (it has to be since my GI tract is still sensitive) which makes me really sad. I am a gastronome. What is life without delicious food? I actually got angry a couple days ago when my mom said I couldn't have something I wanted to eat. I cried because of it. My mom was absolutely right, but it just crushed me to not be able to eat something with flavour. She has been so amazing during this whole thing. I keep coming up with things I'm allowed to eat that might be tastier, and she keeps making them for me. I wanted chicken and dumplings, and she immediately just got to cooking. I seriously cannot believe how lucky I am to have a mom like her. She has been working her ass off to keep me healthy, and to stop the spread of my nasty germs. She bleached my whole bathroom yesterday. I honestly don't know how she does it all. I think I just have Supermom. 

Speaking of bleaching, the bacteria can live on surfaces for months. This means that we have to try to kill all of it to reduce the chance of me getting it again. Although there’s a 1 in 5 chance that my infection won’t even go away the first time. That’s pretty stressful to think about, but then I realized that means there’s an 80% chance that it will go away. Thinking about it that way makes me feel better. If it does go away, then we need to reduce all other future chances of contact with it, which will mean bleaching the bathroom again and bleaching my room. 

It's all just been a lot on my mind. My therapist said that sometimes it can be a good thing to look our fear of death right in the face. I'm certainly learning a lot about myself through this situation. I've been thinking a lot about the meaning of life. I have to say, pissing yourself multiple times in a day is whatever, but NOBODY should have the experience of shitting themselves more than one time in a day. What kind of all loving god does that to someone?! What a cruel joke. I will say that this experience has made me so much more thankful for adult diapers. I guess this experience has also shown me that shit happens (literally), and there is no reason to be embarrassed about something that could happen to literally anyone. I think society is too uptight about bodily functions sometimes. It reminds me of a book that my nurse, Naomi, gave me while I was in C.H.O.- Everyone Poops (thanks again, Naomi!). Everyone should read that book so that people stop being so uncomfortable. I'm done being uncomfortable with my body. I'm done hiding or feeling ashamed because I have to deal with things that society views as weird. These things are not weird. 

I suppose I don't have much more to say for right now, except that I hope this infection goes away and stays away. I also hope that anyone reading this knows that even during times when we feel like we are alone in our experiences, there is always someone out there going through something similar. 

Love to all, and until next time.

Opening Up About My Mental Health

Hi beautiful people, 

it's been a while. Today I felt like writing, and I think the topic I'm about to write about is a very important one, especially during these trying times of COVID-19 (and the recent election). A lot has happened this year for all of us. A lot has happened for me. (TW: depression, anxiety, suicide).

Since I was in high school, I have dealt with anxiety and depression during various times of my life. Generally, I am the type of person who always tries to see a bright side in everything, but as many people know, depression can make that very difficult, if not impossible, to do. Back in March, I lost my wonderful grandma to complications from cancer, and all of the COVID stuff started really getting crazy right at the same time. I truly was so overwhelmed at the time, that I thought I had reached my pain threshold. I kept thinking every day that things could not possibly get worse, but they did over and over again. 

It felt like the world was spinning around me, and all I could do was keep moving forward with time. Luckily for, me I had wonderful support. However, a lot has happened since then, and I don't need to get in to all of the details, but after everything that happened with my ex-boyfriend, my mental health became the worst ever. I really did not know that I could feel that way. I think I had reached my pain limit for a while, and any other thing could have pushed me over the edge. Unfortunately, it was not just a small thing, so I did not just get a bit worse, I got significantly worse. 

I could barely move for like a week. I was so sick to my stomach with anxiety, that I barely ate anything for the whole week, and I ended up losing a lot of weight. I weighed only 100 pounds. I have not weighed so little since I was about 12 years old. It honestly is pretty scary to think about. I slept a lot, and I cried a lot, and I started to wish I didn't exist anymore. I should perhaps clarify that my thoughts were never really suicidal, just feeling like I wished the world would swallow me up one day, and all the pain would be gone. I recognized that these feelings were not healthy, and the week prior I had seen my doctor, who had suggested trying antidepressants for a little while at least until I could get set up with a therapist. I told my doctor I did not want to go on medicine, because I didn't think I needed it. After that horrible week however, I decided maybe her suggestion was a good one. 

I saw my doctor again, and she prescribed an antidepressant for me. The first day, I was absolutely miserable. I was so sick to my stomach I couldn't get out of bed or eat a single thing all day. Finally, I took some Pepto-Bismol, and thank goodness it actually helped. After that, each day was much better, physically. My doctor said I probably wouldn't notice a change mentally for a few weeks. Of course, naturally things got a bit easier each day, but I was still so incredibly depressed, and my thoughts were still very unhealthy.

Today, I am three weeks in, and I actually have been feeling better. I don't feel perfect, and I still have very difficult times, and times of deep depression, but not nearly as often. The feelings are manageable now. If you know me, you know I love music, and I love to sing all the time. There is almost always a song running through my head. When I get extremely depressed, the music stops. A few days ago the music returned. I have actually been laughing and smiling and dancing, and it feels good. 

I mainly just wanted to write this, because I was really against taking antidepressants before. Antidepressants are helping me deal with these difficult times, and the fact is, I needed the help. I'm hopeful to not need them for long, and I think once I get a therapist, that will really help me as well, so I will be able to go off of them. 

I wanted to share this, because while mental health is being talked about more these days, I believe it is still very stigmatized, and I want to show that it is a lot more common than we think for people to have mental health issues. I also wanted to show that it is okay to ask for help, and it's okay to recognize that you need help. 

Thank you to everyone who has been supporting me through all of my tough times (and through all the good times as well!). 

Lots of love,

Kimberlee

Lube, Phlegm, and Other Weird Health Things

Yet another month has passed since I last wrote, and it was a pretty rough one. It was so rough in fact, that I may have to do multiple posts just to catch you up on everything. This post will focus on my health, and how I keep getting sick (I may even be slightly sick now with a very mild cold, but it also may just be a runny nose). As always, I like to keep it real, so there may be a couple of pieces of information in this blog that may be TMI for the average person, but those things are just normal parts of my life, so therefore I will write about them anyway.

For starters, I ended up with a nasty cold, only a couple weeks after my throat infection. The cold also caused a slight fever, so I had to go to the doctor. I was coughing constantly to the point of gagging, and eventually after a few days I was actually physically sore from coughing so much. Part of the issue for me, is that I still don't have very great lung strength since my paralysis, so it is very hard for me to cough things up, which then causes phlegm to get stuck and make breathing hard, and is completely miserable. I also lost my voice, and I had a huge presentation due the same week. Thankfully my voice came back just in time for the presentation, and by some miracle I didn't have a coughing fit during it.

There was however, a really awkward (and also hilarious for me) moment after my presentation, when people were giving feedback. I should mention that before my partner and I started, our professor said that my partner should sit so that she and I were both at the same level. Afterward, when people were giving feedback, one guy says (I kid you not) that next time we should stand up. Everyone in the room got so quiet, perhaps from utter disbelief, until my professor said something to him about how I couldn't because I'm in a wheelchair and then there was some awkward laughter. I honestly think he was just meaning that my partner should stand, but it just came out so wrong and made him look like a complete asshole. I'm not sure why, but the incident was really funny to me.

Anyway, my cold finally went away, and I was super happy about it because I could actually hang out with my friends, which I really needed because I was starting to get a little bit depressed. I also I had a trip to Berlin with my study abroad program coming up that I was extremely excited about, so things seemed like they were finally going to be getting better. I could not have been more wrong.

Here comes the TMI. I was in the middle of class, when we had a ten minute break. As usual, I used the break to chat with my friends, check social media, and then go pee. What do I notice? I am peeing blood. I don't care how many times I have had it happen, it always scares me when blood comes from places it shouldn't. I immediately panicked thinking it was obviously a UTI, and I told my professor that I had to leave to go to the doctor.

I must say, I am proud of myself, because I got myself, terrified and alone, on the bus, all the way to the emergency room. It was dark and freezing cold, and for some reason there weren't really any clear signs for how to actually figure out which building I needed to go to, but eventually after following some ambulance lights I found my way. It was a four hour wait for some antibiotics and testing, and all I could do was hope that whatever bacteria it was, was not super resistant to antibiotics like previous UTI's I had had. I would hear back in three days if I needed to change antibiotics, and my Berlin trip was in two. For some reason, even with the antibiotics, the bleeding kept coming back. I finally realized that Berlin was not going to happen for me, and I cried possibly more than I ever had before. I was not only upset about the trip, but about my body and my paralysis, and I really hit a low point.

Flash forward to now, a little over a week later. The bleeding continued day after day, so I went back to the doctor. They are running more tests, but I think we finally found out the issue. It may have not been a UTI at all, but rather the new brand of catheters that I have been using here. The ones I use in the U.S. are polished, so I don't use lubricant with them, but the ones here are not polished. The idea is that the catheters may have irritated my bladder or somehow caused a cut or something. The issue is, how do you let it heal when you have to keep catheterizing? Well, what seems to be working right now, was a simple fix- lubricant. The only issue was that they didn't have any on hand, so the doctor said I could use pretty much any basic kind, so I had to buy it from the ~intimate section~ if you know what I mean. I am pretty comfortable with my body and talking about it (I mean obviously you can see that with this post), but I have to say I was a little bit uncomfortable asking where the lube was, especially in german.

I am still recovering mentally from all of the stress, and also there have been some lingering feelings of depression that have come and gone, but overall things are looking up. I just try to remind myself that there is always a bright side to even the darkest of situations. Also, I think it helps a lot to be able to laugh at yourself (I had to buy freaking lube!!), and to know that things will always get better. Plus, I have some pretty great friends here who are super supportive, so they help me stay positive too.

German Hospitals and Anxiety!

It has been a month since I have written. So what the hell exactly happened? I actually wrote a blog but never posted it for some reason. Likely because it didn't feel finished, and life got in the way. What I mean by that is that since my last post, a LOT has happened. I have gone to some cool places, I've had guy problems, I have made a ridiculous amount of new friends, whom I can barely keep track of, and oh right, I got sick for a week with a really bad throat infection and had to spend the night in the hospital since my fever wouldn't go down. Then I started class and had a bunch of issues with registration, because I was supposed to have help with it, but then I got sick when I was supposed to receive that help, and then it was all very confusing.

So let's start with cool places. I went to the Cannstater Volksfest (similar to Oktoberfest, and during the same time) in Stuttgart, and had the time of my life. I was so exhausted and freezing cold by the end of the day, and my body was very sore, but it was totally worth it. I went on a couple rides, and one was so fast that all of us agreed it was not very pleasant. I literally got bruises from being thrown around on the ride, but it was an experience nonetheless. When it ended, one of the workers had to lift me out of the seat and carry me off the ride because I was so dizzy. It was actually kind of hilarious. I also went to the Ritter Sport museum in Waldenbuch, which is a chocolate factory/museum. I bought way too much chocolate, and the museum was actually closed, but there was still a pretty interesting exhibition that my friends and I got to see.

Now, about the hospital. Based on this one experience, I'm going to say that German hospitals are amazing. They are so clean and the workers are all super nice. I also was seen by a doctor almost immediately which is very different from the time I waited like eight hours to see a doctor in Long Beach (I am not even kidding). They also were able to finally get my fever to stay down with a magical medication called Novalgin, which as it turns out, is banned in the US. I must say, I felt kind of like a badass taking it. I also had this crazy nurse while I was there, and she kept telling me all this stuff about my paralysis, which to be quite honest was borderline offensive. Just a tip- don't tell people with paralysis that you know what will heal them, because Jesus hasn't fixed me yet, and he's not going to fix me over night, and your magical diet pills ARE NOT MAGIC. I have heard it all too many times, and it's just rude, so don't do it.

Anyway, now you can hear about my guy problems, because I am an open book, and honestly nobody is gonna judge me harder that I will, so why not write about them? Of course me being a typical 21 year old I am frequently on the prowl. I should add that before I came here I basically spent the last two years enjoying my singleness, and pretty much avoiding men altogether. I think it was great for me, because, first of all, my last relationship was really horrible, and I just needed to get over it and work on my anxiety and depression. Secondly, that time really gave me a lot of confidence to do things alone, and I have to say, when you aren't constantly worrying about looking cute for other people or trying to impress others, you get to do that stuff for yourself, and be who you want to be. However, I finally decided it was time for me to get back into the dating game, and what better place to do that than in another country?

Well, I have met a few awesome (and very cute) guys, and also have had to shut down a lot of other creepy ones. Drunk guys in bars can be so annoying. I had this plan to just be casual and have fun while I am here, and it was working for awhile. I've kissed a few guys so far (making out is fun, and I am convinced that anyone who thinks otherwise is just doing it wrong), but then of course I met a really nice one who I actually like, so I think I'm gonna see where that goes.

But I mentioned guy problems before, so let me explain that. I guess the main problem I have been having is confidence. It's strange because generally I think I am a pretty confident person, but for some reason when it comes to dating, all my confidence just goes out the window. I also still apparently have really bad dating anxiety. For example, I invited my friends over to my apartment the other day, and the guy I like was the first one to show up. I weirdly started to panic, which basically makes me get really quiet and get kinda sick to my stomach, and it also makes me feel like I can't breathe normally. I'm not sure why it happens, but luckily my friends showed up pretty soon after, and then I calmed down after a bit. Also, according to my friend it isn't that noticeable, which is good. Having anxiety is not easy, and I don't usually share with that many people just how bad my anxiety can get, but I'm glad I am writing about it, because maybe someone else will see this and realize they aren't alone.

So while I am at it, I may as well mention that sometimes I have panic attacks, and get very anxious about dying, or not being able to breathe. Some of it is PTSD-driven I think. Some of it is caused by the knowledge that some of the medications I take could potentially kill me if I were to develop certain side effects. I worry about UTI's and having a relapse which makes my paralysis worse. I've always had anxiety, pre- and post- Transverse Myelitis, but I think over the years I have learned better ways to cope with it and prevent panic attacks. One thing that has really helped me is knowing that so many other people also deal with things like this. Because the thing is, it really makes you feel like you are crazy, and completely alone, but in reality so many people have anxiety, it's just that not everyone talks about it.

Anywhoodle my noodle, this post has taken a bit of a turn, and I could say so much more, but I think I will end it here. I will also tell you about my classes in the next post, because I don't actually start one of them until next week. Until next time, you beautiful humans.

Things That Happened: Part Two

I know I said that I would write two parts about the last couple weeks, but as it turns out, I am going to have to write three, because I absolutely cannot condense everything else that I want to say in this post.

On Wednesday (the 19th), after two whole weeks of showering in cold water, my shower was finally fixed by the Hausmeister, and I was able to take a warm shower. Two weeks of cold showers was not a fun time. The next day my friend, Keera (also from California) and I went to the little hippie market and bought some cheese and fruits. I ate some for dinner, because I wasn't feeling very well, and didn't want to have a heavy meal. I actually have been feeling a little unwell from time to time all week. I have nausea that comes and goes, and it makes me feel awful.

Luckily by Friday I was feeling a bit better, because my Startkurs (the preparatory language course I am in) went on a trip to the Bodensee, which was two hours away! We visited a church first, and then later went to a museum called Pfahlbautenmuseum Unteruhldingen (try saying that twice!). The best way to describe the museum is by comparing it to those little huts with thatched roofs that you find in places like Bora Bora, that are right on the water. Except they are German, and really really old. I also should mention that I spent most of the trip with the tutors, because they were helping me get around some of the inaccesible places that we went to. It was really fun being with them too, because I love being able to speak German with native speakers, because it just helps so much.

Later that day, we went to Meersburg and had some free time, so my friends and I decided to get lunch together. I had fish and chips at an imbiss, and they were playing Matisyahu in the background, so I knew we were at a good place. After that we took a ferry to Konstanz.

Konstanz was AMAZING. I kept telling myself that there must be some place in Europe where all the wheelchair users moved to, because I rarely ever see anyone else in a chair, and I think Konstanz is the place! I saw at least six other people there using wheelchairs, and practically every place was accessible. I was so happy about the accessibility that Konstanz might be my new favourite place in Germany. It was so nice to be able to get inside almost any building I wanted to without needing help. I miss that about the United States. The American Disabilities Act is so important. I think every country should get on board with that and make all spaces accessible. I should not be left out or unable to experience something just because my body decided it would be fun to attack itself. I should have equal opportunities.

Anyway, before I get side tracked and go on a long rant about why accessibility is important (which, by the way, I will never stop advocating for myself and for others with disabilities), let me get back to my story. In Konstanz, Abby and I went to a gigantic cathedral, and afterward we got hot cocoa in a small café. It started raining, so we decided not to go anywhere else, until finally it was time for us to meet up with the rest of the group for dinner.

After that, we all piled in the bus for our two hour ride back, and I had a very interesting conversation with the guy I was sitting next to. It's kind of hard to explain all of the details, but I'll just say that I don't think he is used to being around strong women who are willing to speak out when someone is being sexist or homophobic etc. We didn't argue or anything, but he definitely said some things that made me realize that our cultures are very different. Also, I tend to make jokes/comments a lot about checking out hot guys when I am with my friends (I mean what is wrong with noticing someone's beauty? It's not like I am harassing people), and since he was with us he got to hear them. Get this, he said that I am NAUGHTY for talking about hot guys a lot. I wasn't even being weird, I literally would just say things to the other women like, "oh did you see that hot guy?" or joke and say that I was going to find myself a hot german man (which may not actually be a joke). I just don't understand why men can literally sleep with a different person every night and nobody bats an eyelash, but if a woman starts talking about a bunch of different hot guys then she is "promiscuous" or "naughty." It's such a double standard and people need to change that.

All I can say is whether I am a naughty woman or a nasty woman, it doesn't matter, because I am an empowered woman who doesn't care if men want to judge me for being me. Let your freak flag fly. And on that note, I think this post is done, so you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out all the actual naughty things I've done lately (drinking? What's that?).

Things That Happened: Part One

A lot has happened in the last two weeks. Because of this, I think I will write two separate posts to cover everything. I wanted to write last week, but I got extremely busy, and decided I would rather get some rest instead of trying to write a long post, but today I have time! So this is my part 1 (things that happened Sep. 12-18):

First of all, I went to this amazing Monastery in Bebenhausen. It was extremely old, and very beautiful, and there was a cute little market nearby where my friends and I purchased some fresh fruit. That was my first big historical excursion, and it was accessible! Unfortunately it was not 100% accessible, so I couldn't get everywhere, but I was able to go to the main areas, which were breathtaking.

That Friday (the 14th), I went to an international dinner. It was potluck-style, and everyone brought dishes from their home country. My friend Abby, who is from Oregon, and I made a pastry in the shape of the American flag. We weren't sure what to cook, but we figured, what was more American than the flag? The dinner was great, and our dish was a hit (although personally, I thought the other dishes were tastier).

The following day was even better. Abby and I decided to go to the Altstadt for dinner, and it just so happened that there was this Italian/French market going on, which we had completely forgotten about. We decided we would explore all the booths, and we ended up splitting this huge plate of bruschetta. However, we didn't have a table, so Abby sat on a step and we used my lap as a table. A lot of people stared, but one woman told us we were creative, and she gave us free cheese! It was so fun. After that, we decided to get some churros and some really thick hot cocoa to dip them in. Honestly, I am still dreaming about the churro-cocoa combo to this day, because it was one of the best things I have ever eaten.

I also went back to the market the next day with my buddy, Aysel, and her grandma and mom. They were so sweet, and they even took me to a little Mexican restaurant beforehand for lunch. I would call it more Tex-Mex, but it was actually pretty good for being in Germany. There also happened to be a marathon that day, which really made life hard, because all of the buses had to change their routes, so I could only get to my dorm from the bus stop at the Hauptbahnhof (where the train station is), so it took me quite a while to get back to my room at the end of the day.

The last day was kind of a rocky one. I was in a really bad mood, because it felt like everything was going wrong, but it ended on a good note. What happened was that Abby and I went to try currywurst, and let me tell you, it was the curryWORST. To everyone that told me it tasted different than just ketchup and curry powder on a hot dog, politely PISS OFF you liars. It was the most atrocious thing I have ever tasted. Apparently a lot of my friends like it, but it is absolutely not for me. After that, Abby and I got gelato to cleanse our palates, and as it turns out, no food is allowed on the bus, and before I could tell Abby that we should just finish our gelato and wait for a different bus, she had already thrown it away. Needless to say, I was bummed.

Later I had to get to my first German doctor's appointment. It was not easy to get to, but I ended up learning that there was actually a very close bus stop, so it was easy for me to get home. The doctor was very nice and spoke perfect English, which made me feel a lot better, because I was very nervous that something would get mixed up if I tried explaining things in German. It took some time, but he was able to find the medication I needed, and I finally got a prescription. There also was a very cute little hippie market right next door to the Apotheke (pharmacy), which I explored. In the end I felt accomplished, and it made me feel a lot better.

There have been a lot of challenges for me here in Germany, but I am continually showing myself that I am stronger than I ever thought, and that I can always push through (no pun intended). Now you will have to wait for part two to find out what I did this last week (spoiler, it was possibly the most fun week ever)!