Awful Appendictis!

What happened to me?

Okay, so I haven't posted in a week.  I think it may have been more than a week, actually.  Sorry!  For anyone who actually keeps up with this blog, they know that I intend on keeping track of posting regularly and keeping my blog updated!  I haven't given up or anything, I just have been recently hospitalized.
Appendicitis.

Appendicitis?  You're not dead?

Appendicitis sounds very scary and dangerous, and it is. It's basically a small bit at the end of your intestine and it becomes inflamed to the point where it bursts.  Luckily, my appendix burst and then separated itself from the intestine to successfully keep me safe!  All the body goo and liquids can still harm my body (main concern at this point), but I'm dong "so well" with my medicine that no harm should be threatening right now.  The doctors told my family and me that surgery was believed to be the immediate reaction once the known cause was a ruptured (exploded, yay) appendix.  However, since this is the 21st century and medicine is continuing to evolve and scientists are continuing to learn, an appendicitis would be easier to treat with medicine.  The appendix and everything around it is inflamed, making surgery hard and possibly unsafe.

(Diagram should answer a few questions.  Any others can be left in the comments!! :)

What led up to that diagnosis?

I had been having a dull stomach pain for four days before going to a local clinic to ask what it could be because I was also constantly running a fever.  The doctor pushed around, found a spot that hurt the most, pushed REALLY hard on that spot, I winced, and I was sent to the hospital!  (Not without crying my eyes out because I heard "ruptured" and thought I was going to die.)  I got needles done, drank a gross pink drink, performed well in a CT scan, and was diagnosed with the dreaded appendicitis.  Next came doctor discussions, getting an IV, trying morphine for the first time, and then finally I was transferred (by ambulance) to a new hospital. The doctors at the new hospital made the final decision: no surgery!  I was given antibiotics for 3 days and then sent home because I was doing "extremely well."

Overall, I'm feeling great.  I'm still reading The Wedding by Nicholas Sparks.  I'm working on a blog post for a new book "Review and Q" (I love how that rhymes).  Hope you enjoyed this short update on the most recent events on my life and hope you're doing better than me! :)

-h.f.

The Golden Rule of Friends.

This post will just be me typing. No reviews or introductions or pretty headings/subheadings. Just a little rant.

This topic has been stirring inside of me for a while, and it's honestly bothering me how much it has taken place in my life. The topic today is: fake and/or bad friends.

I love that quote. (I found it online. Credit to: searchquotes.com.) I wanted to post some kind of quote for this subject, but I couldn't find the perfect one until right now. 

I think the problem with my friendships is that I try too hard. (Most of the time. You'll see.) I am "willing to do much more for them." My mother is the same way. We both go out of the way to try and make our friends happy; we try to change up our plans to make ours friends happy. It just sucks to feel like the second choice all the time, ya know? Whenever I want to do something with a friend, the something is put second. It's always, "If I'm not doing anything else than I'll consider it." Ridiculous! If you asked me to go to the movies, I would twist my schedule's head off just to go with you because I'm that kind of person. After I realized that I did that for about 80% of my friends, I combed through my options a little more.

That's where I bring the title into play: the Golden Rule of Friends. This is going to become a thing for me from now on. I'll start examining myself too, don't worry. We all know that the Golden Rule is "do unto others as you would have them do unto you." That means, in kiddie terms, that if you steal a toy from someone, they now have the motive to steal from you. However, if you share a toy with someone, they then have the motive to share with you.

Think about that while you think about your friendships and/or relationship(s). Think about each person in your circle of friends and how much each person would do for you. If your mate is willing to go out and buy ice cream for you at midnight to soothe your sweet tooth, you should be willing to pick up a milkshake for them at McDonald's, if you happen to go. This applies even to events and plans. Begin to notice how often people invite you to things. If your best friend doesn't put you at the top of the guest list, then don't put them on the top of yours. That's just going to hurt you in the end because (I'm so sorry to say this) that means that you're a better and more devoted friend the (s)he is. 

The truth is chilling in this blog today. 

I wish I would have learned this lesson earlier. Two years ago probably would have been a better memory for me. Awkward life flashback time!

Once upon a time, I went to a new school (boring). I met (let's call her A) A and her friend (let's call him B) B. A and B had been best friends for a long time, and I sandwiched myself into their group (not as boring). A and I became best friends, while I began dating B (okay, this gets interesting). A soon grew angry at me for dating B, and A soon began to grow suspicious that I didn't even want to be friends with her anymore. Lie #1. B and I had an amazing relationship, although it did have to come to a temporary break because I have boy trust issues. A, B, and I were still all best friends. A and I slept over at each other's houses and went out to dinner with each other's families. Then, I began inviting B to come along. A accused me of using her to only to hang out more with B. Lie #2. After B and I got back together, A just grew more and more angry. I can't remember which ended first: the A friendship or the B relationship. In the end, they both ended and it was hard on me. On the other hand, it was instrumental in who I am.

(If A and B read that and know who they are, then hello! We all had good times and thank you for that. Thank you for that one year of mind numbing happiness, even if it was not going to last. ((And for readers, A and I are still friendly. We just don't really hang out. She has new friends and so do I. I wish her a happy and blessed life. B and I are still friendly. I don't see him much anymore. He has a new girlfriend, he's happy, and I'm alright. I also wish him a happy and blessed life.)))

One thing that I do want to add is that A and B were more into the friendships and relationship I had with them. I believe that plays a part in why it all didn't work out. I had just come from knowing everyone to knowing no one, so my trust and confidence levels were not in balance; thus, I was not the best friend I could be. I tried, though. I tried to have good anniversary and birthday and Christmas gifts. There was just something that didn't fit with me and them, and I was the one to sooner realize it. Every one's okay now, though. Don't fret, readers!

Out of those two, a new friendship grew. It wasn't really strong until the month of June. In my introduction I called her Biggums, because that's what we call each other and it's an inside joke. Biggums and I are best friends, and I believe the reason is that we're both in 50/50. We're able to compromise and move schedules and such, so it all works out for us. 

In conclusion, examine your friends and potential husbands. Make sure that you're in it just as much as they are, and vice versa. If you find something wrong, either talk it out or end it. Simple as that.

ciao for now!

-h.f.     

Looking for Alaska - Review & Q.

I finished John Green's Looking for Alaska a couple of days ago. Here's my blog post about it. (CONTAINS SPOILERS!)

Summary & My Opinion

This boy named Miles "Pudge" Halters is fascinated by last words. Particularly those of Francois Rabelais. Rabelais last words have to deal with the "Great Perhaps," which is what Pudge longs to find. Pudge goes off to a boarding school and meets two new friends - the Colonel and Alaska Young. These two troublemakers pull Pudge into their world of smoking and drinking and pranking. Although Pudge gets a girlfriend, he falls in love with another lady friend of his.

Overall, I enjoyed the book as I typically do with any of John Green's writings. I expected this book to be amazing and inspirational and life-changing. It, sadly, was not. Don't get me wrong - it was a great book. A good teenager-y love story for this century. However, there were a couple of scenes that were a little too much and could have been taken out. Those scenes did nothing to enhance the book or change my opinions on any of the characters (well, maybe Lara's). The book content was quite mature, although I am usually a bit more mature while reading any works of literature. I was surprised that (SPOILERS!!) Alaska died in the end. I kept wishing it was all a prank and that she would come back, send Pudge into his "Great Perhaps," and everything would be great. But, nope. Just Pudge and the Colonel trying to finish the legacy that was and forever will be Alaska Young.

(This post will probably be extremely long, what with the broad questions coming up. Just a warning. Happy reading!!)

Some intentionally vague and broad discussion questions.

There is a part at the end of John's book labeled the above heading. In case you don't own the book but want to follow along, I'll type them out for you (you're welcome). Let's answer them, shall we?

1. Is forgiveness universal? I mean, is forgiveness really available to all people, no matter the circumstances? Is it, for instance, possible for the dead to forgive the living, and for the living to forgive the dead?

I did not read these questions ahead. Holy cow. I believe in Heaven and Hell. I would say that the living can forgive the dead, considering they still have consciousness that can think and believe and love and lose and talk and laugh and on and on. The dead are either being tortured in Hell or pampered in Heaven, so I would guess that they aren't thinking about all the enemies they forgot to forgive. However, if it makes anyone sleep better at night, I would say that on your death bed you would want to forgive everyone, no matter what they did, in the last moments of your life. Even if they let you go driving while you're intoxicated and you crashed and died.

2. I would argue that both in fiction and in real life, teenage smoking is a symbolic action. What do you think it's intended to symbolize, and what does it actually end up symbolizing? To phrase this question differently: Why would anyone ever pay money in exchange for the opportunity to acquire lung cancer and/or emphysema?

In my opinion, teenage smoking is intended to symbolize the teenager growing up and making a life decision. It usually ends up symbolizing the teenager making a stupid life decision. The teenager is CHOOSING to put nicotine in their body and get addicted. To phrase this answer differently: someone would most likely buy cigarettes or drugs or whatever for the exact same reason why a common person (like myself) would buy a DVD or a CD or a book or any kind of fandom/band merch: it's an obsession. Not only an obsession, but an addiction. It's an interest that you want to keep indulging in and trying new things. You want to try a new brand of cigarettes, or you want to try a different book by your favorite author. The smoker doesn't think about the acquiring of lung cancer and/or emphysema, while the bookworm doesn't think about the potential tears that could be shed from reading the book. (That was a really good answer. Good job, self.)

3. Do you like Alaska? Do you think it's important to like people you read about?

I loved Alaska! My favorite quote was probably the one about being a "deeply unhappy person." She just had the mysterious, carefree character that many people always wish to be. The thing that got me about her was just that - she was a deeply unhappy person. Alaska came off as a confident feminist, while inside she was just a scared little girl with ghosts following her path. I'm glad that I liked her because I do believe that it's important to like the people you read about. If you don't like them, what fun is it to read about their lives? Or you could see it the other way: You can read about someone you hate just to have more reasons to hate them. If you're really that shallow, go ahead.

4. By the end of this novel, Pudge has a lot to say about immortality and what the point of being alive is (if there is a point). To what extent do your thoughts on mortality shape your understanding of life's meaning?

Holy cow, deep stuff is about to go down. Well, morality and life itself is so extremely fragile. One thing, one event, one anything could kill you. Just like that, and you're never coming back. It's something a lot of people fear. To take something from John Green's book The Fault in Our Stars, we all want to go down in history to ensure that we don't burn along with everyone else. That's what most people's meaning to life is: having a meaning. You have one life, and it can be taken away so simply, so why not live it to the best of your abilities? (I'll say it: YOLO.)

5. How would you answer the old man's final question for his students? What would your version of Pudge's essay look like?

If you don't remember, the question was about getting out of Alaska's "labyrinth of suffering." Pudge's two-page long answer was, in a couple of words, indescribably beautiful. The one thing is he didn't really stay on topic. The part where we read his writing seems to not be an essay, but a eulogy, mourning his lost love. My response probably would have been something like, "Christian's pray for righteousness, Buddhists pray for nirvana, blahblahblah." It probably would have been more professional and less beautiful and deep as Pudge's response was. Nonetheless, it would have most likely gotten me an A.   

-h.f.

New Beginnings.

Hello!

Okay, well, here's where I drone on and on about how much this blog means to me and my readers are so great and thanks and blah blah.
Honestly, it is pretty great.
This first post will officially start my blog, and I'm planning on keeping up with it periodically. Let's start a bit of an introduction:

The name?

I named my blog "hannah milhey" because it is extremely funny and ironic. It's a play on words on my name. I was told by a past teacher (who is still my dear friend) that I have amazing writing skills. And one of my friends also said that my writing was very intriguing, like a novel that is glued to your hands and that captures your eyes. 

I have no courage to start a YouTube channel to vlog, considering I'm still trying to be okay with everyone staring at my face for roughly five minutes while I talk about my life.

So why not type about my life?

The story?

There's no deep, philosophical reason behind this blog. I just wanted somewhere where I could type. My mind quickly becomes bored with making story lines, so I'm not the best novel writer, or story teller. If I can type about something that happened to me, and that I'm interested in, well, great!

I had been looking for a blog site (other than Tumblr) where I could just simply type. No gifs, no pictures, no feed that would make me stare at my computer for hours. Just typing and stories. My friend Angelica gave me the idea of this blog, so thanks Angelica. (She's pretty swag.)

Dedications?

As all good books, or stories, begin with, I might as well add some dedications. Lame, I know. (You can skip this part, if you wish.)

First off, Jesus. I have gone through rough patches in my life, and no one can pull me out of them. No one. Sorry, not even you. However, my Savior always enjoys blessing me at my darkest times, so, thanks for that.

My family, I guess. I don't talk to many members of my large family intimately, so I don't know what to say. Thanks Mom, Dad, Mawmaw, Pawpaw, aunts, uncles, cousins. I love y'all.

Biggums. You know who you are. You have brought me through so much, and I can't repay you. Thank you. 

My church and everyone in it. They're my spiritual family, and I couldn't ask for anyone better. You guys rock.

My school and my classmates (as well as my teachers). This includes (most) people at my school. You are just... great. Including the band geeks, that I proudly reside with.
THANK YOU ANGELICA FOR INSPIRING THIS BLOG. HOME SKILLET. :)
Thanks (I won't put his name in case he doesn't want to be stalked) past GT teacher, for coaching me in my writing and giving me the passion to start a blog. You helped a flower bloom in my soul that will die with me. (What kind of metaphor was that? That was odd. Alright then.)

Anyone reading this. You inspire me to keep writing. Thanks so so so much. I'll stop bothering you now.

-h.f.