Seventy Degree Weather

This last week I had the chance to go to California to visit my brother, Daniel, and his family in California! The weather was so warm, especially compared to all of our recent snow storms in Utah. Everywhere we went, the girls would take jackets and I would take mine off within five minutes. It was just too warm for me! Andrea, Olivia, Madison, and I had so much fun playing around the park, going to music makers, preschool, and just hanging out! The girls are so cute and I'm going to miss them so much!

The girls loved playing with Photo Booth on my computer. In the morning, they'd come into my bed to snuggle and we'd take funny pictures. And then we'd take some later in the afternoon. And sometimes at night. 

Cars Land!! I was so glad we got to go and see the characters from my favorite movie. We had a blast! 

Luigi's Tire Ride

Hey there, Big Red! We got a picture right before he left. 

The tires are on a giant air tract type thing and when you lean, they move directions. We bumped into each other a lot, when Olivia and I weren't stuck by ourselves in a corner. We weren't so good at the leaning thing. 

KA-CHOW!!! 

Daniel, Olivia (even though you can't see her), and me on the Cars Bumper Ride. I was obviously loving it! 

Olivia told me she built a house for me. Here it was! 

And here was Madi's version of my house. 

The Island Game that Grandma made for Olivia. 

Here is Madi's version of "A Dream is a Wish." She was lovin changing the words! I was trying to remember songs from Cinderella, and she just started spouting them out. She is so smart!

Olivia singing "So This is Love" and trying to copy the vibratto. She sang this song for about 30 minutes while we played at the park. 

This last week I had the chance to go to California to visit my brother, Daniel, and his family in California! Andrea, Olivia, Madison, and I had so much fun playing around the park, going to music makers, preschool, and just hanging out! The girls are so cute and I'm going to miss them so much!

January 28

Everybody in my family received this e-mail from my mom today. Here it was:

Notable events that occurred on January 28^th

•    1724 – The Russian Academy of Sciences is founded in St. Petersburg by Peter the Great.

•    1813 – Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice is first published in the United Kingdom.

•    1855 – A locomotive, on the Panama Railway, runs from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean for the first time.

•    1878 – Yale Daily News becomes the first daily college newspaper in the United States.

•    1896 – Walter Arnold of East Peckham, Kent becomes the first person to be convicted of speeding.  He was fined 1 shilling, plus costs, for speeding at 8 mph, thus exceeding the 2 mph speed limit.

•    1917 – Municipally owned streetcars take to the streets of San Francisco, California.

•    1956 – Elvis Presley makes his first US television appearance.

•    1986 – Space Shuttle Challenger breaks apart after liftoff killing all seven astronauts on board.

•    2012 – Amanda Ricks is diagnosed with diabetes.

Famous people born on January 28^th

•    1887 – Arthur Rubinstein, Polish pianist (d. 1982)

•    1936 – Alan Alda, American actor, screenwriter, and director.  (Hawkeye Pierce on M*A*S*H.)

•    1955 – Nicolas Sarkozy, President of France

•    1968 – Sarah McLachlan, Canadian singer and songwriter

•    1969 – Kathryn Morris, American actress.  (Lilly Rush on Cold Case.)

•    1981 – Elijah Wood, American actor.  (Frodo Baggins in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.)

•    2013 - _____________________ Ricks!

Famous people who died on January 28^th

•    1547 – King Henry VIII

•    1939 – William Butler Yeats, Irish writer, Nobel Prize Laureate

•    1960 – Zora Neale Hurston, American author, Their Eyes Were Watching God

A vigilant reader will note two especially applicable events on this list. One, my new nephew, He-who-must-not-be-named (not Voldemort, we’re just not sure of the name yet, so I guess technically it could be Voldemort if we’re not ruling anything out) is assumedly going to be born today. We’re calling him Baby Jackfred, and my sister-in-law Kristina is in the hospital right now. Very exciting. I’m looking forward to going to visit him today.

The second notable event here was that exactly one year ago today was my official Diabetes Diagnosis Day (Try saying that 10 times fast or singing “Happy Diabetes Diagnosis Day to You” like Whitney just did. Talk about a tongue twister.) Now, since I wasn’t exactly blogging one year ago today—or even six months ago—I’m going to record the story. So, folks, sit down, get comfortable, and prepare for a tale of woe and destruction. Just kidding.

My Fall Semester at BYU leading up to January 28 was not one that will go in the record books of the greatest semesters of all time. For some reason—we’ll get to that later—the entire semester I was having all sorts of crazy things going on with my body. I assumed it was because I was in a new environment, I was living away from home, I was eating a lot more Top Ramen, Taquitos, and Mountain Dew Throwback and fewer carrots, spinach, and apples. And by fewer I mean none.

The “crazy things going on with my body” included symptoms like very dry skin that wouldn’t heal no matter how much lotion I used; drinking loads of water, we’re talking eight to twelve 24-oz Camelbaks a day; peeing a whole ton, just ask my five roommates who shared a bathroom with me; fatigue to the point where I wouldn’t want to walk up flights of stairs because I was just too tired; falling asleep in every class, regardless of the amount of sleep I’d gotten the night before; and, well, other symptoms that just aren’t exactly fun to write or talk about. Let it suffice to say that I was not doing very well. Looking back, I was probably pretty grumpy too. I remember learning some of the symptoms of cancer that are very similar to diabetes, including the drinking a lot of water symptom. One day, I decided that I just wasn’t going to drink any water. I had bowling class and I could only drink when I got a strike, which was never. After bowling class, I think I downed two 24-oz Camelbaks. I was so thirsty. I was waking up 4 times a night to use the bathroom—in fact, I could go from my room to the bathroom without turning on a single night and almost while sleep walking.

One night, my roommate Annabelle and I were on WebMD looking up my symptoms. Two results came up: I was diabetic or I was pregnant. Since pregnancy wasn’t an option, diabetes became a hypothetical option. I didn’t really consider it, but I did ask my mom about it and she immediately called and got me a doctor’s appointment.

When I came home the weekend before my appointment to let my mom just coddle me with soup and bedrest, my parents came to know the extent of my symptoms. When we went to my favorite restaurant—Chuck-A-Rama—and I only drank Coke rather than eating the usual 7-course meal, 4 courses being ice cream, she knew something was wrong. When I slept for 11 hours, woke up and only drank Coke again at my favorite breakfast place, and then came home and immediately took a nap at 10:30 in the morning, she knew something was wrong. She had a very spiritual prompting that she needed to get me in to the doctor, and she needed to get me in now.

I woke up and she told me that we were going to the doctor. I wasn’t happy about this. I wanted to wait. I don’t like the doctor and I thought I would be fine. She insisted, and I grudgingly went along in my “Power in Purity” EFY shirt. At InstaCare, I told them about my symptoms. I even added, “I’m also peeing a whole lot, but I don’t know if that has anything to do with anything.” They had me pee in a cup, which was obviously not a problem since I could have filled about 6 of them every time I peed, and then we waited. I laid down in the examination room. When they came in, they told me I was a Type-1 Diabetic. I didn’t really know what that meant, but my mom started crying. Then they said that they were going to have to take some blood to be sure, and since I knew what that meant, I started crying.  Turns out my blood sugar had been over 600 for months. A normal sugar level is somewhere between about 80 and 150, so that is problematic. There were ketones in my urine, I had dropped about 30 pounds without really realizing it, and my A1C was off the chart. They told me that they could get me an ambulance or my dad could drive me straight to the hospital. Good thing I was wearing a cute outfit, right?

When we got to the hospital, they took great care of me. I was on an insulin drip machine to get my sugar levels in check. The nurses were nice. I never went alone as someone in my family was always there. Kristina and Adam brought me balloons, even though they popped a second later. Heather and Platte and the kiddos came and visited, even though Belle was scared of me, probably because my hospital gown was about 30 sizes too big and I was attached to a machine. Daniel was calling at least three times a day to see how I was doing. Whitney probably spent about half of my time in the hospital right up on the bed with me, sitting and making me feel better. We poured over diabetic packets, diabetic apps, diabetic online sites—learning that Halle Berry and Nick Jonas both are Type 1 Diabetics. I had officially joined up with a cool clan.

The worst moment in the hospital came in the morning. Sleeping in hospitals just isn’t fun. They wake you up at least every hour, checking vitals, taking blood, etc. It’s hard to sleep with an IV. The beds could be comfier. The rooms could be bigger and smell better. Anyway, I just wasn’t sleeping well. I was, however, very hungry. I’d been eating so much for months and months since my body had been craving sugar like crazy, and I was used to a high intake of food. My food was now being regulated, but it didn’t mean that my body was liking that. When it came time for meals, I’m convinced that I was the first one calling in as soon as I could to get my disgusting chicken alfredo or my quesadilla (the best meal at the hospital.)

When it came time for breakfast, I hurriedly ordered a yummy meal. I had strawberries and hot chocolate who knows what else. All I know is that I was starving and it looked delicious. They brought me in my food and immediately after a nurse walked in and told me that I couldn’t eat it. Apparently you weren’t supposed to eat while you were on the insulin drip and that it was a problem. The food was literally right under my nose, and I had to sit there and watch it be taken from me. I cried my eyes out. I think, in reality, I was crying because my life was changing and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Finally, they came in and told me I could eat my food. Those were the sweetest words that I’d ever heard.

Somehow, in the hospital, I still maintained my school work and I ended up getting a 4.0 for the semester. While I did work my tail off for the grades I got, the Lord was behind the A’s for that semester.

I was visited by many ward members and received may prayers while I was in the hospital. I could feel them. I can testify that the power of prayer is real. I could feel it then, almost like it was a tangible feeling. I was grateful for those prayers that helped me maintain my optimism.

While many may not know what Type-1 Diabetes is, it is an incurable disease that is caused by genetics. No, I did not eat too much chocolate. No, I did not gain so much weight that caused my body to develop insulin resistance. Nope, it was simply in the cards for me and it showed up when it did. And that’s the truth. There’s nothing I could have done to stop it, nothing my parents could have done, and nothing that can be done to cure it. And that’s life.

I check my blood sugar about 7 times a day, and I take shots probably about 5 or 6. I don’t mind the shots. That has been a real blessing—overcoming my very real fear of needles. At age 18, I would cry whenever I had to get a flu shot. At age 20, I take a shot like I’m eating an orange: it’s normal, natural, and just a part of life now. I really don’t remember ever being able to eat without taking a shot. I don’t mind it anymore. Diabetes, as my doctor always says, is just a “five minute a day annoyance.”

Obviously, I did not always remain positive. After I was diagnosed with diabetes, my eyes developed cataracts and I had to get surgery in both of my eyes. That was hard. After I received my mission call, the church told me they were reassigning me because diabetics don’t go out of the country. We sorted it out after tears and worrying, and I’m still going to Scotland and Ireland. But that was hard. One day, I wrote the following in my journal: “Diabetes is starting to get me down a little bit. All the problems that I currently have basically stem from being diabetic. I hate sitting there at night when everyone else can eat and I can’t. I hate having to count carbs and take my shots and not eat everything I’d have eaten before I got this stupid disease. I hate having to constantly think about how fat I am and how terrible I look, knowing that before I was diabetic, I didn’t really have to worry about it. I hate looking at other people, never worrying about any of these things, and feeling so different. So alone.” So yes, it wasn’t always an easy journey. But I am pleased to say that the days of feeling alone and sad were few and far between.

As of now, I can’t believe how far I’ve come since one year ago. I have a mission call and am about to go serve the people in Scotland and Ireland, two of the most gorgeous places in the entire world. I have an incredible family that has supported me throughout the entire thing.  I had a wonderful “Team Amanda” that came to Walk For a Cure. I have a wonderful nephew coming today. I have a niece coming next week. I have another nephew coming in June. My sister, Whitney, is getting married 12 days before I leave on my mission. I’ve been through the temple, I’ve decided my major, I’ve moved apartments, I’ve learned to love and become best friends with the three girls I lived with—Marcel, Annabelle, and Angie. I’ve gone to London, seen Justin Bieber, left my teenage years, become a Bronco’s fan, learn to love Diet sodas and sugar-free hot chocolate, run my first 10K, and—most importantly—strengthened my testimony of the very real power of the Atonement. It does not only cover sins. It covers loneliness. It covers sickness. And it absolutely covers the heartache of a 19-year old girl, confused about her newfound disease.

So, thank you to my mom who sent that sweet e-mail to our family. Thank you to all those who have supported me and strengthened me through this last year. I am sincerely grateful. And—most of all—thank you to Adam and Kristina’s cute new baby who will share this happy day with me! 

Gmail has an e-mail address: gmail@chucknorris.com

Happy December 1 from the 1^st floor of the Harold B. Lee Library. How symbolic, I know. I assure you, it was intentional.

A few pretty exciting things have happened in the last month. First off, I finished the Lazy Man Ironman that has absolutely been kicking my butt the last month. Who knew that 79 laps of swimming, 112 miles of biking, and 23 miles of running would be so dang hard? I certainly thought “lazy” would have more to do with it. Annabelle and I got a free 3-day trial membership at 24-hour fitness. On the last day, I biked 21 miles and ran 2.25 to finish off the chart. Even though the shirt is a hideous green, I am probably more proud of it than I have been of any shirt I’ve ever gotten.

Iron Man Champs! 

Second, I ate some of the “Longest Cougar Tail.” Apparently, if you gave $1 to get a piece of the maple bar tail, you would donate 17 pounds of food. Sounded good to me, and so my Spanish class/London friend Mackenzie and I split one.

One of the tables holding the Cougar Tail. 

My friend Mackenzie and I. Who is the guy in the middle? I've got no idea. 

I made up a funny joke. Oh wait, no I didn’t.

I’ve been researching like crazy for a paper that I ended up totally disagreeing with my thesis about. Oops. Don’t you hate it when that happens? Trying to fit historical research into a thesis can be more difficult than it would seem.

I made fun of Whitney because she spelled tale “tail” and because she thought that Patrick Dempsey was the actor who played Voldemort.

I became friends with Dez Duron on Facebook. 

I went Black Friday shopping with Adam and Kristina at 10:00-12:00 on Thanksgiving Night. We ended up only buying some cheap burgers from McDonald's and wandering around a bunch of stores, but it was so fun and ridiculous all at the same time. We went with Heather the next day as well and actually got some real stuff. 

I bought Ed Sheeran's new album and decided to start calling him "Ed" like we are best friends. Because we basically are. 

I laughed when my English Professor used the word "cuckold" in our English discussion. 

I officially decided that I love Frank Sinatra. 

I went to a Ward Activity with my good friend J. Tonks. He is officially the coolest person that ever lived. 

I successfully passed another cleaning check. After cleaning out our oven that we never use. 

Now for the real news!

I got my mission call!

I have been privately considering a mission for quite some time, and with the newly announced age-reduction at General Conference, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. After a profusion of doctor’s appointments and a slightly uncomfortable examination (ha ha ha), I submitted my papers and began the treacherous, grueling, exhausting process of waiting.

About a week later, my mom got a call from the missionary department. Because I’m “special” (like, stop eating the paste special—identify the quote, 10 points) they called and asked all about my health complications. Although my mom said she completely missed her opportunity to ask them to tell me I had to stay home with her, instead she spoke very highly of my attitude and of my health. Kudos to my unselfish mother.

Finally the night before my mission call came. In my journal, I had guessed nearly everyday where I thought I was going to go. Guesses included Wyoming, Massachusetts, Texas, New York, and Idaho. Where was I going to go? I just didn’t know. Because of my diabetes, it was never a question of going inside or outside the country. A stateside mission was great with me. I was just excited to serve. 

I knew my call was coming on Wednesday, and Tuesday was absolutely awful. I was nervous. I was shaky. I wondered what I was doing. A portion of my journal entry read, “I am seriously so nervous. So excited, but I’m finally realizing that this is happening and that there isn’t any turning back.” Yup. That about summed everything up.

Obviously, nobody in my house got any sleep that night. I kept having dreams that either my call wouldn’t come or I would simply be told that I couldn’t go. I woke up and considered finding the time, but I knew it was close to 6 when they would be calling. Instead, when I looked at a clock, it was 12:30. Same thing at 3:30. Same thing at 5:10.

Finally, at 5:50, the telephone rang. I bounced out of bed and ran out my bedroom door wearing my UK boxers. My sister Whitney was standing right outside my room. She hadn’t slept either. My mom answered the phone, “IS THIS THE MISSION CALL?” only to hear a confused employee, “No, this is the United States Postal Office.” Ha. The call was there. Waiting for me to pick it up. Up my hair went, on went my Powder Puff Sweats, and down to the post office Whitney, Dad, Mom, and I went.

When we arrived home, we were all trying to get our mind off my call until my siblings arrived. Luckily, my brother Daniel who lives in California was home, and so the entire family got to be there. I decided to take a shower and then spend 30 minutes debating whether or not to straighten my hair. (I ended up straightening about half of it and then wandering my house some more.) Whitney sat outside and thought about where I was going to go. My mission call postage was 1.90, which her boyfriend Ben said meant I was going foreign. I decided I needed extra postage because I’m diabetic and needed extra info. My mom decided to make muffins and proceeded to add nuts, apples, and worry into the batter. I don’t know what my dad was doing. I’m guessing wandering around the house.

When Adam and Kristina arrived, Kristina told me that she too had had crazy dreams about my call. In her dream, I was in a room with Annabelle watching a TV show and just didn’t want to open my call even though everybody was waiting. Pretty funny, especially because Kristina has never even met Annabelle. She’s just heard me talking about her.

Finally everybody arrived. The moment had come. We went into the Living Room, where all special announcements take place, and sat down. I spent about a year trying to knife open the letter, and finally pulled it out. I read the ever-anticipated, “Dear Sister Ricks, you are hereby called to serve as a missionary in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” At this point, I wanted to know where I was serving before everybody else. I looked down and saw my call. My eyes bugged out and my heart leapt. I could absolutely not think of anything cooler. I continued reading, “You are called to serve in the Scotland/Ireland Mission. You are to report to the Provo MTC on March 27. Prepare to serve the gospel in the English language.”

Woah. What? I was never supposed to go foreign! We’d colored a stateside map and made bets on it. What was happening? I believe my exact words were, “Holy crap! That’s the coolest mission ever!” I went to Scotland during Spring but only got to stay for one day. I was super bummed I didn’t get to go to Ireland. This was absolutely the perfect mission call. I would have been equally as excited if it would have been stateside, but because it was such a surprise, my excitement was completely over the top. 

Much has happened since then regarding the call, but that was the main experience. As long as that was, I wanted to remember the details that I knew I’d eventually forget. I was so grateful for the gospel, and I continue to be grateful. Happiness is incredibly important to me, and the gospel brings me that happiness that I seek. I was grateful to have gotten my call. I was so grateful to have my entire family there. I was so grateful for parents who have brought me up with the gospel, and who encouraged me to pursue the path that I believe is meant for me. I was grateful for a mother who didn’t move or speak for 5 minutes after she learned I was leaving the country. I was grateful for a father who had made me feel completely at peace about where I was going, and who pulled out his “History of Scotland” book right after my call. I was grateful for brothers who encouraged me and sisters who cried about my leaving. I have the best family that ever lived. And that is the truth. 

That's just hilarious.