My Friday Night

My Friday night was spent here:

A little cabin my college owns, about a half hour from the main campus, nestled in Oregon.

The primary heat source in this cabin is a wood stove in the main room, that for some reason we allowed to go out during the night. It was a whopping 11 degrees when we arrived at the cabin, which, admittedly, was cold even for me. 

For warmth we had hot brownies, hot cocoa, each other and our sleeping bags. Luckily this little place has power and running water. 

What a day

This is essentially what a bluebird day in eastern Washington looks like. I'm typically a groomers kinda gal, but sometimes, you've just gotta get off the beaten path, and that is exactly what Sara and I did yesterday. Admittedly, it may not have been my brightest idea to just up and decide "Let's go ski this trail in the woods that we have no clue where it leads to!" But alas, into the woods we went. Me, on a slalom ski, probably the second dumb idea of the afternoon.

I fell, a considerable number of times, but thanks to the soft snow none of them too dangerous. Other than the one where I got a tad too close to a tree. Some of my falls were more like sit downs, or ski into ledges. I'm not really sure what to call them. Decide for yourself.

Despite how stuck I was, just look at how blue the sky was! We were skiing down a gully and had these gorgeous views. There was a natural half pipe, weird how nature just makes things like that on its own.

All in all, we spent about an hour getting down this run. Not something I would have done normally, but challenges are good.

This is why I'm a geology major.

Migraines

I have migraines. Sounds simple, right? Few hours in a dark room, and a couple excedrin and it should be gone, right? No, this is anything but simple. Honestly, it's the most challenging thing I've had to deal with health wise in my life.

This migraine started May 27, 2010. That's almost nine months ago, incase you didn't feel like counting. It's never actually gone away, but simply been subdued into submission for short amounts of time through various means. I spent three days in the hospital for it, have tried literally 20+ medications, had to inject myself  with a very painful drug, and now, I get 30 shots of botox into my head every two to three months. Yes, you read correctly, I am a 19 year old who needs botox injected into my head to simply be able to function on a minimal scale.

This was the first treatment that actually helped me return to my somewhat normal life. It takes two to three weeks for the botox to start working for me, which my doctor believes is not normal. It also only lasted for slightly over nine weeks from the date of the injections. But it works, so again I went in for another round of my botulinium toxin A.

Hardest part about fighting this migraine, is that it's entirely inside my head. Other than the sunglasses, which rarely leave my face, people would never know. Reading books nauseates me at more than a few pages, and my mind is too scattered from pain to really focus on Othello's real downfall. I pull my hair, because the pulling on my scalp feels like a temporary release from the pent up tension inside my head. But none of this screams migraine to them, because I function through it all.

I jokingly use volcanic terms to describe my migraine. Over-pressurization inside my head. If my migraine were a volcano, it would be Vulcanian, because this thing is explosive. Heck, you could probably even use earthquakes at a metaphor the concussions I rack up. Essentially, I am trying to keep my head from exploding and destroying the city of MiKayla.

If you aren't falling you aren't learning.

I tend to fall, a lot. I'm clutzy. I push myself to the brink of control. I take risks. For me, it's an amazing way  to live my life. With, of course, for the instances when I hit my head, then it's bad. Skiing is no exception. My friend Sara is my ski buddy, even offering to be my ski patrol for me because in typical MiKayla fashion my mum was worried I'd injure myself somehow. She carries my stuff, which to point out, is no simply task with a mono ski. The monoski itself weighs 30 lbs, add outriggers, skis, and a ski bag and you've got quite a few trips to make.

Back on track, just had to stop and appreciate my friend. We went skiing on Saturday. Up before the butt crack of dawn, hour and a half drive to the mountain for a few hours of bliss. Or well, what should have presumably been bliss. I was off my game. I have no shame in admitting I fell. Let me tell you, I fell a lot. And it hurt. I fell getting off the chair lift. I fell laying down some turns. I fell going through the line. I fell because I was more focused on laughing on Sara than skiing. When I fall, my mind instantly goes to either, what did I just do wrong or a squealing thought of damn there's snow down my back. But either way, the fall gets looked at, and I try not to make the same mistake again. Except for the instance of the chairlift. When I'm there, I'll blame it on the chair lift. But seriously, I had no idea why I couldn't get off the darn thing! I scooted, I flung my arms, I landed on my face.

I'd just like to point out that the ski is actually uphill.

I LOVE skiing, seriously, most freeing sport for me. One thing that frustrates me on the mountain though, is that everyone feels a need to acknowledge the differences. The thumbs up, the way to go, the wow that's awesome, or the dreaded 'you're such an inspiration'. Nature really is a great equalizer, especially current day with the adaptive technology, but I still feel out of place in the lift lines. When people (It seems most often to be teenage boys) ask me how hard it is, I don't think they would understand when I tell them how mental the lesson is. For now, I just smile politely, attempt to get on and off the chair lift and shred my way to sanity.

Upside down

Things in my life are often turned upside down. Sometimes by my own doing, other times by forces beyond my control. However, I enjoy it the most when I am able to flip my own world, and successfully right myself (without drowning).

My school offers open kayak in a pool twice a week, where you can basically show up and learn whatever you would like about kayaking. They've got students who come in and teach and it's a really great atmosphere. Last semester, I took a white-water kayaking class that met once a week in the pool and went on one river trip. It was all the open kayaks and instructors that flipped me over countless times that helped me to learn how to roll a kayak. Now when my kayak should flip over in the pool, I typically end up right side up. We're still working on it in real rivers where there's a tad more pressure though.

Why a blog?

I live far too adventurous a life to not have a blog.