Related: Emails from the Housitter

"No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world."

Robin Williams ( July 21st 1951 - August 11th 2014)

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(via fuckyeahjapanandkorea)

(via justhopefulwishes)

Life and Death

Yesterday I was in the ER the whole day, ‘dealing’ with my migraine.
Woke up at 5:00 AM to go to work but my stupid brain had different plans, which included vomiting, nausea, more vomiting, headache, and needles everywhere. 

Mind you, it wasn’t any ordinary migraine. They gave me the strongest five pain medications that my height and weight could handle, alternating every few hours, and nausea medicine. And yet my migraine still continued to stab at my head with all its muster and I just sobbed, looking like a total sad mess in my hospital bed.

Procedure went like this:

- Get the miserable, crying, vomiting girl wrist bands and an IV
- Throw her in the CT scan after hurriedly pulling off all her earrings en route to room
- Put her in the CT imaging system
- (Jeopardy sound track)
- Pump five different pain medications with different combinations of nausea medicines  
- Upon realization that none of these were working, they had to find alternatives (they put too much meds into my system that they weren’t allowed to anymore) 
- In the midst of my pain, given a piece of paper to sign to get a spinal tap.
- Signed, started prepping
- Gave me oral numbing medicine, which I promptly vomited all over the table they asked me to sit at
- Doctor stabs me in the back and pulls out my beautiful spinal/brain fluids that apparently travel up and down my back, allowing for them to test for other complications that didn’t show up in the CT scan.
- Don’t feel any pain because my head is already giving me so much crap.
-Finish, cry and sob for another who knows how long while my mom, dad, and bf sit next to my bed because (disclaimer: everyone has these moments, it’s not easy to say) I literally wanted to die. It hurt. 

So the reason for my title… LIFE AND DEATH

In my hospital bed, while in pain, I had these thoughts… Who the heck needs any of these material things when, WHEN you die (Since everyone dies, including Voldemort), nothing comes with you. Nothing remembers you. You might have cherished that $1000 Macbook Pro, but is that coming with you? Will your phone, the number of followers or the majestic pens that empty out your wallet every semester?  Nope.

Just some food for thought.

I’ve been discharged from the hospital now, thanks.