Can't See the Stars.

I can't see the stars anymore.

It occurred to me as I was driving through downtown one evening. The glimmer and beauty of the lights surrounded me again, filling my heart with hope and reaffirming me that all in this world was ok, was going to be ok - no matter what. 
Faith is a lot like that, I guess. I can't see it, but I know it's there. Even when I can see the stars - outside of the city - the day comes eventually. It takes them away. But still, I know that they are there.

My life has relied on a lot of faith since starting school here. Faith that it's all worth it. Faith that I'll make it through. And lots, lots of faith in God. If you asked me whether I had changed since beginning Graduate School at Mercer, I would reel a little bit. Because the difference shocks even me, despite that I am the same person. I don't feel the same. My life consists of waking up, going to class, studying almost all of the time, getting lunch prepared, occasionally taking a break, and going to sleep to do it all over again. On the weekends - I work. I have to make specific time for "regular daily activities" such as laundry and vacuuming. It's all a numbers game, as to how much time I want to take away from my studies - how much can I afford to take?

When I'm out with friends, I talk about PT. When I look at magazines of clothes, suddenly I don't only see dresses - shirts - I see muscles, acromion processes and forearm tendons. I make PT jokes. My Facebook consists of posts about a. school and b. work, usually. I ask my friends to let me practice Manual Muscle Testing on them. I wear my little orange and black Mercer jacket proudly. PT is what I have that is mine - to hold and to show and to work for as proof of the life that I have worked hard so much of my life for. PT isn't my whole life, but it's undoubtedly a huge portion of it, and that will inevitably change a person. It has become the filter through which I see life.

And life, in the meantime, I realize does not stop for PT school. I'm tired? Too bad... I have two personal days out of the semester and today I am not using one of them. Diabetes? Still a pain - still have to deal. Have to wake up and go to school. I can either chose to get enough sleep and stress about studying later, or get some studying done and be super tired in the morning. I don't want to study? I have to put in more hours... have to pass my anatomy exam. Personal life? It's not nonexistent, as my focus on PT might have you think. It happens all around me, waxes and wanes, makes me happy and makes me sad. And no matter what, I have to live to through it all. Keep pushing forward, push past, push on - life doesn't stop, and neither must I.

I must live in a world where I can't see the stars anymore. I know they are there, but the city lights have taken their place. And everything is still the same, but it's all quite different, because of this fact. I am thankful, nonetheless. I have faith that they will light my way through this journey I have chosen to take. Those lights are beautiful all the same.

21!

The now-annual list of weird things to do for my birthday is up!

- jump into the swimming pool before school with all my clothes on (if the pool isn't covered)
- if pool is covered, find a plan B.
- wake up in time to buy coffee before school.
- wear a nice dress.
- go to the park.
- buy a new music album.
- buy a used book at the bookstore down the street.
- buy this awesome beer.
- take a walk around the school at lunch time (since I can't get out of class). Also, do handstands in the grass.
- call someone I haven't talked to in a while.
- stargaze.
- (like last year) drop 21 pennies randomly everywhere.
- compliment a stranger.

Making my birthday awesome to set it apart from every other day - one random thing at a time!

"If Worse Comes to Worse, I Mean, We'll Just Pay For It."

Those were the words I uttered to the nurse my last day in the hospital after my diagnosis.

Before I left, I was told that I would not be allowed to leave unless I left with medication. The problem was, I didn't have health insurance then. I had never thought I would need it. People always ask me, "well won't you be covered under your parent's health insurance?"
But, we always self paid. There wasn't any reason not to - my mom and I were healthy people.
It was a decision out of my control anyways, a decision that my mother or my parents controlled. I didn't care - I wasn't paying for any of my medical expenses anyways, of which there were few. Shots when needed (I hated shots so much), the optometrist, contact lenses. I was picture perfect healthy and hadn't been in the hospital for anything since the day I was born.

Rewind back a couple of years, and the picture of me was this:

All I can think is oblivious. Innocent to all of this nonsense that my world now runs amuck in. Diabetes is what I live, breathe, eat, sleep. Do you know what it's like to go to bed every night and in the back of your mind, remember that there might come the night when.... you don't wake up? See posts on your Diabetes Facebook page about another soul lost - another coma leading to death from hyperglycemia, or a night time low caught too late?

The difference between me and a lot of the people I meet every day is that I am bitterly, lucidly aware of my mortality. Every day. That sounds over dramatic. But as it does, it is true. Don't misinterpret that statement, though. I live by the mantra, "look around the room, around the world. Everyone you see has problems that are as big to them as yours are to you." Diabetes is my problem, it's true - and other people have problems, big and small both. We all have our struggles to deal with. This blog is simply my take on how this particular problem of mine effects my life every day. And what I mean by a more lucid, heavy awareness of my mortality is just the fact that someone like me literally has the power to take their life and hold it in their hands. I hold my life before me, close my eyes and see the fragile thread that it is. It is a beautiful gift that God has bequeathed to me. Extinguished in a second, and yet it is the only absolute that I have ever known, is what I have experienced within the walls of this body I call my own.  And every day, I make a decison. 

I will treat myself. I won't give myself too much insulin. I'll give myself the right amount -- how I treat myself today will effect myself 2, 5, 20 years down the road through possible complications. 

My life now effects everything I will every experience in the future. And when I'm low? Sometimes I sit there, and I look up at the ceiling, I close my eyes, I think - my life kisses the lips of death if I choose not to treat. It's literally that easy to slip away. And the beautiful thing is, that I always will treat myself - there is and never will be any doubt about that. But every time I think this, I am reminded again of just all the reasons of why I do. And life means so much more because of that. I fight not because I have to or ever wanted to, but this fight came to me, and demanded that I face it.

And when people say, "I could never have Diabetes. Oh, I hate needles to much. I'd rather die."
Part of me is upset, because I never wanted this struggle, just like you wouldn't want it.
But the other half wants to take their hand, look them in the eyes, and let the walls I have built around my life fall for just that moment as I say:

"That's the beautiful thing about humans. We never truly realize how strong of fighters that we are until that's what we have to be."

And can I take a moment to call that out in regards to myself? I have a lot of flaws, for a human. More than I care to admit. But despite all of my flaws, if I had to pick one characteristic about me that I found most pure and unpolluted, that I was most proud of, that was my shining feature, it would be this:

My drive. That spark within me, a fire that will never go out. I will never give up. I am resilient. No matter what challenges face me, I may need my moment to cry and rebalance - but I will do what it takes to adjust and overcome. And I always, always will. It's who I am, to the very deepest core of me.

And so the point of all this long, drawn out dialogue was this - let me bring it back around -
I never thought about healthcare until I had to. I looked down on government insurance assistance programs. I had lofty views, and now I'm stuck on the receiving end of a government aide program that I am at the mercy of to give me the medicine I need while I am a student with no insurance coverage. And now, I'm losing that too.

The moment in the hospital - when I told the nurse, "Oh, if worse comes to worse, we'll just pay for the medicine so that I can leave." - That was when Diabetes hit me for the umpteenth time in the face:

This singular fact - Living with Diabetes didn't just suck. Living with Diabetes was very, very expensive, as the nurse sucked in a breath, looked at me and said, "It's not likely, sweetie. That medication is very, very expensive."

And sure thing, long story short, life got complicated fast, with numbers like these:

Hospital stay for the 5 days: $21,000.97 (something like that)
Insulin and supplies for the month: $800.00
Doctor's visit: $75.00
Lab work: $400.00

I now have different motivations, different perspectives on health care than I did before. But I will go into politics later. If you're reading this now, just know this - I am scared. I went to the insulin companies themselves and found out I might qualify for patient assistance programs that provide free insulin to people uninsured like I will be. The problem is - Mercer requires health insurance, and health insurance is either expensive, or has huge copays, or doesn't cover the insulin I need, which makes it even worse, in a sense, and more expensive for me to have insurance than to not. How F***** up is that? The very system that is supposed to "help" me requires me to purchase insurance that I would literally be likely better off without. And so now, I'm back at ground one,  and reeling to figure out what to do.

Switch my residency to GA and apply for Medicaid here?
Purchase Mercer's health care policy (which doesn't help my case) and beg the drug companies to still consider my Patient Assistance Program Application? There's another $1800 a year -
Seek insurance elsewhere? If it doesn't cover my insulin, simply depend on what I've saved up for the next few years and buy as needed?

Basically, I realize I'm just going to have to ride out the next couple of years. Three more years, I tell myself. Three years... and maybe I have a shot of finally getting coverage and getting out of this non-insured, or arguably even worse, under-insured nightmare.

I want to cry, but I'm telling myself that God has this covered, and we'll figure it out. I feel alone sometimes, but the kindness and the help of others reminds me that I am not alone, and I'll never have to be. And while I still feel tempted to finish this blog, go sit on a bench in the cool, nostalgic fall weather outside and let the tears of overwhelmed-ness pour down my face, I realize that now is not the time.
Strength is what I need, and strength is what I have. I will fight, like I always have done.

I will make a way.

Detours.

I love Monday nights driving back from swing dancing, and any nights that I get to drive through the city, weaving downtown on the interstate in between the skyscrapers and glowing lights.

It is magical. The city is a heart that beats, and I am part of the pulse that gives it life and light each day. My dreams, my life, my future and my past are entwined with this city. It's especially magical on nights like tonight, when the clouds hover low in the sky, covering the tall buildings in a foggy blanket. Clouds billow past the building tops. They lend the entire city an air of mysticality;  they turn it into an exquisite, beautiful, alluring thing from which I cannot take my eyes away.

And there am I - this one lone driver in a city of millions. I am living my new little life, going to school and running my small business and doing the little things that make me, me and making new relationships and reading books and... this is me. Yet I feel utterly, completely changed from life just a few short months ago. As I drove to work Friday, I was pondering life and thinking about the strange twists and turns that life has taken in just the course of a few weeks.

Of course, my life was completely turned upside down. Leaving the comfort of small-town Macon, I left the friends and people I loved, left the place I had come to know, with its comfortable nooks and crannies, for a place where I was for the first time in my life, utterly and truly alone.
And it was strange. Scary. Exhilarating.

I stepped out of my comfort zone, from a pond to an ocean.

And tonight, I feel like a lot of things and I feel a lot of things about my life. Lately one of the things that I have been thinking of a lot is that I feel as though I have been living in the dark for all of my life... without even realizing it. Physical Therapy school has changed my life in merely the course of the 7 weeks I have been here, and I cannot fathom how much more it will change me in the coming years. I am here not to train for a job, as the panelists at the Physical Therapy Association of Georgia meeting talked about on Saturday. I am here to mold myself, to create and shape myself for a profession. And a profession is not a mere job. It is an investment. It is getting involved in legislature, or making contacts with my fellow colleagues, or mentors or professionals in the field. It is molding myself into the shape of my highest ideals, and constantly refining what my ideals are, seeking better at every turn and angle. It is growing and bettering my mind, body and soul, for the betterment of myself and for others. It is for learning and pursuing knowledge for my field not just out of duty, but for passion and a longing for excellence. It is forming relationships, helping others and making impacts, all of which matter - no matter how big or how small. And once I learned to embrace this... I felt as though I knew that no matter the challenges I face here, that I have what it takes to excel. My name is Lacy Elizabeth Ball, and I can do this. I am going to be the best Physical Therapist that I can possibly make myself, no matter what it takes.

I am pushing myself to be brand new and all the same. I am going dancing for the first time in my life. I am changing the little things - from the way I walk in public to my posture to my observations of people in the grocery store. I am growing more comfortable in my own skin but still have a long way to go. I am recognizing my strengths (resiliency, passion, drive, balance) but pushing to improve on my weaknesses - (patience, accountability, worrying, communication ... so many other things).

What have I been doing all these years? Why do I feel as though I have been living in the dark? Because my eyes have been open more than they ever have before. To know the knowledge that I have been given in only my short time in graduate school so far makes me acutely aware of how far I have to go. But it also makes me realize what power this knowledge is giving me, to know and to do. How it shapes my actions and shapes my role in life. How it gives me responsibility to use it to better the world in whatever way is right. I am humbled and empowered all at the same time.

I feel as though I had taken a long detour these last few years. Sometimes I don't know the point. Sometimes I feel as though I've been wandering, but I know that there was a purpose to it all. There has to be. I feel alive like I never have before - I am the same, but I am different. The experiences of these last years have shaped me and molded me, have hurt me and built me up. They have shown me a life of colour I never imagined, brilliant and bold and vibrant even on the days that I feel down and the world is grey.
It is beautiful, every moment of it.

What I Learned This Week... That Doesn't Have to Do with Physical Therapy

I have learned a ton of stuff about Physical Therapy this week. I experienced what started to feel like the beginnings of the "it's all coming together *currently" mindset. I'm remembering how bones and muscles work. I can identify the nerves of the brachial plexus on our cadaver and contribute to the conversation confidently in class. We are doing a two-day Diabetes lecture series in Pharmacology as well as Endocrine System, which is kind of my "thing". I'm understanding how to move muscles to make them contract. To be more confident about palpating the body. I passed my first PT skills competency with a 95% in Goniometry, Manual Muscle Testing, Palpation and Special Tests of the shoulder.

Enter personal life. I cried this week. I had to take a "get out of town" mental health day Wednesday to try and get my mind back in the right place. Tuesday I drove home after my competency, turned on some music super loud, and sang with a cracking voice while tears dribbled down my face. Wednesday, as big as Atlanta was, I couldn't stomach being anywhere within the city that day. So, impractically I drove an hour and 15 minutes north up GA 400 to Dahlonega, a little town in the mountains with my favourite Mexican Restaurant and a bunch of cute stores. I walked around, more hobbled because my foot was blistered from swing dancing barefoot Monday (which I loved, by the way). I literally just sat in Starbucks and studied for my two exams the next day. But I had a chance to breath fresh mountain air, get a glimpse of the green mountains I love so much, see open blue sky and get out of bustling, hectic Atlanta for a little while.

It cleared my head. I'm so glad I did it.
I read the Bible a lot this week. I feel as though after a long time, I am back on track to forming a better, stronger relationship with God again.

Today, I found out I got an 85 and a 91 on two of my exams I took yesterday - which after a string of low C's, even D's and low B's in PT school so far, was a victory that really built me up. And I passed my anatomy quiz this morning.  (FYI: I totally crammed for some of those tests like my mother suggested, too, and studied the night before for anatomy). But I've been working my Anconeus off.

And it feels good, too. The weeks prior, I was very frustrated that despite my efforts, I could not seem to get good results. However, I told myself to work harder, not that I wasn't smart enough, and did my best to ingrain this in my brain. This week I spent hours upon hours practicing for my competency and hours studying for exams and working hard, and I have been blessed to see results.

Basically, this week I coped with a lot of victory, growth, loss, and sadness, and defeat. With so much to overcome, and so much I've already done, I feel a little more reinforced that if I work hard, I will be able to succeed as a PT. I feel that this is something truly in my grasp, not just something almost quite there that I'm struggling to keep up with. It's still hard, but when I remember how much this matters, to me and the people I will someday help, I remember that I can do this. God gave me that glimmer of positivity this week, and I'm rolling with it. I feel good. I feel prepared. I feel empowered.

But still, I am somber and hurting at the same time. Today I also found out that I am officially losing my health insurance October 31st. And I'm trying not to worry, but I'm scared. I'm really scared. I'm worried. I'm unsure. I'm upset.

So, what have I learned this week? Besides about the cubital fossa? Or how to do a Hawkin's-Kennedy special test?

A couple of things. I was reinforced that good friends and relationships are the key to keeping your hopes up from day to day. We humans are meant to be social, and to form relationships. They give us strength.

I remembered to pray, and pray all the time, and pray for so long that I forget what I am praying for. Thank God for everything. Praise him daily. Give him your worries, your joys. Constantly.

I learned that for every victory, there are defeats. I have certainly felt the wax and wane of victory and defeat this week, a tenuous balance that seems to have been exemplified ever so strikingly over the last few days. Personal triumphs and failures, failed quizzes and aced exams. Good and bad. Give and take.

I feel that I am becoming a stronger individual, and that finally God is giving me the confidence and preparedness to embrace and become the person he wants me to be. The person he planned me to be before I was ever even a thought - the person I will become for the experiences I will go on to have, the people I will go on to meet, the lives I will impact and lives that will impact me.

So, things in life are changing, are getting better, are ending, are beginning, are tumultuous. But then, I suppose they always are. How relative life is. It seems just to shift from week to week. All I can do is remember to remain calm, try not to worry, take time for myself , work hard and keep pushing forward in spite of the challenges.

After all, we live amidst a world of chaos. What is order but a different perception on chaos? Praying for strength, courage and perseverance for all that is currently happening and all that is to come.

"Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know." - Jeremiah 33:3

Phenomenally Human

If there's anything major that I have learned since starting Graduate School, it's that I am utterly, completely and phenomenally human. I am flawed, I am tired, I need to work harder to improve my results. Aware of my perceived limits more than ever, I have tried, I have experienced failure, discouragement and I have pushed myself to be better than ever before. And it's hard - with seven classes on my plate plus working parties on weekends, life is much like it was during undergrad, only completely different. My life seems to literally revolve around school. I have to set certain times of week to take breaks from studying, otherwise I will literally just go to school, come home or go to a coffee shop and study all the time.

So, one of those set times just so happens to have become every Monday night at 8 PM. Last week I sought out swing dancing events in Atlanta, only to stumble upon Georgia Tech's Swing Dancing Association's Swing Night. I arrived, a little late, in the large ballroom at 9PM that night for an hour of lessons and my very first experience doing any kind of structured dance outside of the Chicken Dance and Cha Cha Slide. Awkward and with seemingly two left feet, my friend Chelsea and I practiced in the large room, switching from partner to partner, counting out 6 counts, rock steps and inside-outside turns. Then, at 10 we were released on the dance floor with the other dancers. I was a little nervous, but the experience levels were all varying. I didn't feel so bad, then. I discovered that all of the leads were different - hence I danced a little differently - learned to better hold my frame, pay attention to pressure and be parallel to my partner. I loved to spin around, even if I had a little trouble counting out my steps on occasion. After 3 hours I was left sweaty, heart rate up, blistered feet, sore calves and with a blood sugar of 60 from being on my toes almost nonstop. I was exhilarated. Craving more, the following Monday I attended Hot Jam Swings in Atlanta, hosted every Monday in a cozy cabin in the middle of Buckhead. It is a delightfully rustic, close-quartered room surrounded by trees where people dance until late in the night. It's an awesome way to unwind on a Monday, and there is some incredible talent there.

And so, it turns out that swing dancing is quick becoming a love of mine. I discovered with it, a way to relieve stress and tension. It was amazing therapy. I felt free, unburdened and unworried when I could dance and forget my troubles. It was amazing! Those too-brief moments when I dance, I can block out the world and I feel such a rush of elation and joy, it makes me want to go back and dance every night. Every Monday will have to suffice. It's also great blood sugar regulation, too. ;)

So, in short, I have been trying to coach myself out of being stressed from school and all of the things I have to do. To take walks, exercise, rock climb, dance, call people on the phone, write blogs and poetry, go to the park (never often enough)... to live in spite of school, not just trying to hold myself above the swiftly moving current that is the heavy grad school workload.

 If anything, it gives my imperfect, stretched slightly too thin, Diabetic, flawed, very phenomenally human self a way to recharge and press on through the rest of the week. And it shows me what an incredibly delightful, joyful experience that dancing can be - what a joy it is to discover these little things in my life here in Atlanta.

Enchanted.

Between all of the gloomy and morose blogs that I have posted lately, I thought it might be nice to post this blog as sort of a disclaimer. Just to say, that truly, despite everything:

I am more enchanted with life than I feel I've ever been.

I think that I've had to do a lot of growing to say that. These past few years, I have loved where I was in life. Truly. I also didn't know what was awaiting me  here in this big, grand adventure that has become Atlanta. Moving to Atlanta has been one of the big events in my life that is among the most important. Thinking back on the last couple of years, I can summarize the most important events of my life into just a few short bullet points:

- Starting gymnastics
- choosing to homeschool
- enrolling at Smith Prep (homeschool school)
- going to VSO Summer Camp in 2008
- being diagnosed with Diabetes
- choosing Mercer for PT school

All of these events have, in some way, shaped the course of my life. Gymnastics introduced me to some of my best friends - that I still have today. Gymnastics introduced my mother to the homeschool community, which introduced me to it, by extension. Gymnastics led to my decision to homeschool, which shaped my education... and introduced me to more amazing  people, while developing my love for learning and strong relationship with God in the meantime. Smith Prep introduced me to the very best friends that I would have, even to this day. Smith Prep introduced me to my friend Erica, who implored me to go to VSO camp that summer on the very last day of school, which gave me ties to Macon, which introduced me to Wesleyan. Living in Macon gave me my first  taste of spreading my wings away from home, implored me to start a business, helped me to grow, and helped me to again appreciate the place from which I came - Orlando, which I had been so ready to leave as a highschooler. Diabetes changed my personality and gave me something big to stand for. It taught me how to fight and reminded me of why I appreciate life. Diabetes, believe it or not, even prompted conversations with people that have led to incredible relationships. And choosing Mercer, finally, even though I didn't think for a time that I would get in - that experience in itself humbled me, and beginning at Mercer has helped me to learn to embrace change. It is helping me to experience a bigger and brighter world than I ever would have been able to imagine on my own.


Atlanta is changing me. I am realizing what an immense place the world is. I can't imagine currently living anywhere else. I am realizing that Wesleyan taught me about myself, but now is time to truly shape myself and embrace the life I am living. To embrace new experiences, and go with the flow, and grow up into the person that I am supposed to be.

Before moving here, I thought I would hate it. All you have to do is read my posts to see how much I was worried about this move. I thought the city would be too big, would make me feel too lonely. But the contrary happened - this city has so many niches, so many secret places, I have just the mix of social interaction and introvertedness my psyche needs. I have discovered my favourite nooks, new coffee shops, little parks no one knows about. I can ride my bike around the park, try new shops with every outing, discover new friends and be myself without facing judgement in a city so big that self expression is as natural as breathing. In this city, life is happening everywhere, and you don't have to force yourself to fit in anywhere There is so much here that there is a place for everyone. I feel at home. I feel at peace. I feel brand new.

And I love life, so much, for every perfect and imperfect facet that it is.