So, there was this mummy…

No, not my mummy; King Tut.

For those of you that don’t know, my father was in the hospital again from early Monday and will be there until he is fully recovered from his latest surgery. They had to clip an aneurysm from the left side of his head, had to shave that part of his head and everything to get to it (he wasn’t too thrilled about that), and I’ve been tired and aching with no rest and plenty of stress since early Monday.
I took Monday & Tuesday off from school because I really couldn’t deal with daily school stress and hospital stress, plus I wanted to be there every waking second he was, as long as I could. He should be in recovery well past Thanksgiving Day; probably get out the Friday after that or so. Which sucks. Because I really want to see my dad for Thanksgiving, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to be able to happen; but honetly I’d rather him get this treatment done so he can be well again without the deadly brain problems.
My dad has been such a trooper through this whole thing, not breaking down even once even when face with the threat of complex brain surgery on the motor/sensory strip of his brain. For those of you that don’t know, one “surgery slip” could make it to where he would have to learn how to talk, walk, and remember things all over again. He could literally forget how to remember stuff: it’s some serious shiz.
So as you could imagine I have been a nervous wrecking-ball. But the “family” members (quite the judgmental, gossiping crew) that were up there with me today during the actual surgery aren’t very supportive of that kind of thing (total FREAK out), so I walked out my nerves.
Emory Hospital in Atlanta, Georgia is where he was having the surgery, and that is on the campus of Emory College. HUGE college, mostly medical students, varrying anywhere from Anthropology to Psychology to study of Anicent medicines, etc, etc. It is a gorgeous campus, and I got to see alot of the grandure today. Simple fact: when I get nervous, I cannot just sit still in one waiting room, in one chair with no blanket, no one to really talk to, for seven hours to wait for my father to get out of brain surger. Another fact: when I do get nervous, I like to get up and walk around. The more stressed I get, the more I walk.
Originally I had just planned on going outside to get some cold air in my face so I wouldn’t bust into tears in front of my family. I’m good at hiding that part of myself from them most of the time, but when I told my dad good luck and that I was praying for him as he was wheeled back into Pre-OP, it was brimming. So I walked away from them and down the stairs to Ground Level, bought myself a hot White Mochiatto Starbucks Coffee, and sat myself down on the cement/stone wall parallel to the sidewalk. I called my friend Cayla (who is in college at West Georgia) and talked to her for a good while, but ended up just sitting alone, in silence, watching the college students go by in an assortment of different ways: bus, speed-walking, alot of bikes, and one guy with these funny orange and pink roller skates.

Tidbit you should know: the one thing that would keep me occupied, my READING BOOK, I left at home because I was rushed out the door at 6:30 AM this morning. And the comfy wall I was sitting on with my coffee was right across the street from the “Cardel Library” — one of the many buildings on campus. Only used by students and teachers and other people that know where the heck they are and what the heck they’re doing. I am none of those things. But I was itching for something to read (like desperate), so I jumped off the wall and headed down the brick path toward the library. An hour later, I go back to check on my dad, and return to my stone wall. This process is not easy, because you have to go through the doors, down this hallway, up these specific elevators, follow this hallway down to this waiting room, through these automatic doors, passed the nosy nurses asking me ‘Are you lost’ every five seconds, and down three rows of beds before I get to the one my dad is waiting at to be taken back to Pre-OP. UGH.
So I finished my coffee and just started walking. I couldn’t sit around anymore — at this point I’d been siting around for two hours, and my nerves were starting to really bother me. Not wanting to cry, I improvished: exercise, experience, and experiment. Weird, even for me. I took off walking down the freezing streets of Atlanta, crossing over to the college buildings. I strode through like I owned the place, and like I knew just exactly where I was headed. In all honesty, I didn’t have a clue because I’d never gotten a real good look at anything in midtown Atlanta.
The architecture of the buildings was phenomenoly beautiful, big, white, polished marble walls that gleam in the sunlight, with precariously perched GARGOYLES (wicked cool) and other structures along the top, winding dusted green filaments all of the tops of the buildings and lining the windows. I think I marveled at every single building before I’d even walked through the square. I’ve never wanted to be a college student so bad in my life. Ever! I just wanted to run back to a dorm room that I could call mine, snuggling with my college boyfriend (something about guys just turns HOT when they’re in college), going in and out of these beautiful buildings and having so much access to so much knowledge and creativity that it’s mindboggling. But I wasn’t, so I dared not enter three of the buildings that were filled mostly with “classrooms.”
I did go on the museum (bigger than fifteen of my houses, no joke); and, here’s where the mummy stuff comes in, they had this giant display and multiple art galleries dedicated to King Tut’s memory and reproductions of the artwork done to his tomb&casket. Howard Carter, a brilliant copyist, crafted all these pieces of ‘Rah’, the Sun God of the Egyptians, and dozens of other sculptures found in King Tut’s Tomb, in the Valley of the Kings in Egypt. Egyptian stuff fascinates me, and I literally spent an hour & a half just in that one building looking at all the crazy stuff…and most of that time was spent on the Egyptian & Roman floors.
Okay, THAT was my explore, and my part of my experience. The rest, the exercise, obviously, was the running back and forth between the college campus and the hospital every time I would get a text message that there had been some change or update. I could have just called, but I’m more of a “hands on” person. Plus, all the sidewalks in that place aren’t exactly “flat”, so you’re hiking up mountains and falling down slopes walking around the buildings. But there was this one wide courtyard place completely blocked off from anyone else’s view except the alumnis’. It had giant oak & maple trees planted, the American flag on a flagstand in the middle, with bright green grass and sitting areas all over the place. I saw the most comfortable, cute little couple sitting on a blanket together just laughing and hugging each other, completely oblivious to the busy, crazed city bustling around them. They were so cute I just wanted to grab a pen & paper and sketch them, write a story about them, a song, a poem, something. One day I just might — who friggin knows when I will have the time to do something I want to do.
Experiment: try to act like a college kid.
LAME, right? : try to act like you blend in, smile at most of the people you see, and always look like you’re on schedule for something and that you are just enjoying this place. : TRY and marvel at the gorgeous sites around you without looking like a tourist that just stepped on to campus. Not as easy as it sounds, but I must have accomplished it because I had what looked like a Freshman girl come up to me and ask, “Um, excuse me, do you know where Building A, Mr. Cyran’s Behavioral Studies II class is?” I looked around for a second, realized she was talking to me, and explained to her that (1) I couldn’t tell her, because I didn’t go to this college, and (2) that the Psychology buliding was straight through that pathway, and once inside the building I’m sure there’s all kinds of signs (like there is everywhere else) to direct her to where she needed to be. I was like….someone mistook me for a college kid?

Wicked siiiick. I mean awesome. Ahem, friggin awesome.
It was really easy to focus on that and try to forget the problems going on at the hospital just a 1/4 of a mile away. I walked for hours, it seemed, never being able to or wanting to sit down. I told one of my friends that if my dad keeps having surgeries, I might damn well get skinny.

Walking can be fun, keeps you focused and alert, so long as you have the right scene to look at or the right person to share it with. I’d love to bring a few of my friends up here and show them all the amazing stuff you, as a non-alumni, non-student, can do! I wish I was in college!

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