Surprise! (To Fulfill Demands For Further Information)

Last Friday I dragged myself out of bed, and ran to my neurobiology class to turn in a paper. I kind of dozed through the rest due to extreme fatigue. Afterwards, I ran home, fixed myself up, and went to a molecular biology review, and ran to the Student Health Center. My doctor, Lorraine, printed out a copy of my bloodwork results for me so I could see, and we went through them together.

Well, guys, guess what? Apparently, I have high cholesterol. This is unusual since I'm 19, skinny, and I eat healthy. We shrugged that one off though and attributed it to genetics. But guess what else? There is probably something going on with my thyroid. I know what a few of you want to ask... does this mean hypo- or hyperthyroidism? Hypothyroidism is most likely because we think my thyroid is underactive. Stupid lazy thyroid. We deduced this because the TSH levels in my blood were EXTREMELY high. Which we think means that:

1. My thyroid isn't doing its job, or in other words, isn't producing enough triiodothyronine (T3) and thyroxine (T4) like it should be. T3 and T4 regulate metabolism and energy and such. If there's not enough of it, I'll always be fatigued and lethargic, quite intolerant of cold, depressed, not able to remember things as clearly, dry skin, etc. Whoo. That's exactly my problem.
2. Sensory neurons in the hypothalamus in my brain detect that there isn't enough T3 or T4 in my bloodstream.
3. So my hypothalamus sends a signal to my pituitary gland to release more thyroid stimulating hormone (TSH).
4. TSH is supposed to stimulate my thyroid to produce T3 and T4, but since it isn't, the vicious cycle continues.

That is our theory. The primary symptoms we'd see if we're right is extreme fatigue and weakness and a few others. Hey... that sounds dreadfully familiar! So I think we're right. If we're wrong about that then I suppose something could possibly be wrong with my pituitary gland... I'd prefer that something is wrong with my thyroid. Obviously a tumor on my pituitary gland would... suck.

After finals I'm going to visit an endocrinologist and they'll perform more tests and we'll see what's going on. If my doctor and I are right? Then I'll probably have to end up taking thyroid hormone. Whoohoo. Possibly for just a few months, or possibly for the rest of my life. Wonderful, eh?

I suppose most people might come out of the doctor's office a little bummed to find something wrong like that, but I instead felt... relief. I have a little better idea about what is going on with my life. This, I like.

I get home to find my teeny little apartment a veritable mess (Really? This was clean last night!). Well, crap. I have a date coming over at four. Plus it should be cleaned because it's nasty. So I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned until it was 4pm and Jared showed up. He helped me finish the dishes, and then we went into our living room to watch the end of the movie we started last week on our date.

I noticed that although last time he sat a good foot away from me on the couch, this time he sat right up close to me. I allowed this and leaned into it, although I was still kind of cold and kept my arms folded. About twenty minutes into the movie though, I heard a big sigh from Jared. He said in my ear, "Jenna, you know, with your arms folded like that, I can't hold your hand." It was a good thing we were cuddling so he couldn't see me turning red. "Oh, sorry!" And I gave him my hand. And we held hands.

No, I wasn't expecting that. I might need to reevaluate what I know about Jared. Quiet, yes. Shy, not as much as I thought he was. Bold... erm, actually, yes. He just might be.

We finished the movie, and then looked through recipes until we decided what we wanted for dinner. He decided on shepherd's pie for dinner, and I decided on peach cobbler for dessert. We walked a few blocks to where his car was parked, holding hands, and went shopping for the ingredients we didn't already have. Then we came home, and held hands some more, and made dinner and dessert, and talked, and ate, completely cleaned up after ourselves, and after about four hours I told him I was really tired and needed to go to bed. He gave me a good hug and left, but not before I made sure he wanted to do something next Saturday. Which he did.

Saturday? Conference. I watched it on my computer in my pajamas with my hair all unkempt and such, because I only had the willpower to get out of bed just before it started. What I was not expecting was for Jared to show up immediately after the morning session to say hello.

Shannon was rubbing my shoulder when I heard a knock on our door and Shannon said abruptly, "Guess who I just saw walk by our window?"

"Jared?"

It was indeed. He walked in and I blinked in surprise.

"Jared! I'm... in my pajamas!" I said cheerfully.

He laughed. I got up and gave him a big hug. Who freaking cares if it's noon and I still look like I did when I rolled out of bed? I'm still gorgeous. Bahahaaa!

His excuse for coming was to get more peach cobbler. Although I had made A LOT, there was only a small bowlful left. I let him have it. He was shocked to find that although the two of us had completely cleaned the kitchen just last night, both sinks were now overflowing with dishes and the kitchen looked nasty again. Ridiculous, isn't it? He left shortly, because I admittedly was just about to get in the shower when he showed up... and I still needed to do so.

After watching the afternoon conference, I thought for a moment. The next scheduled time to see Jared is... Monday, at FHE (we recently and conveniently combined FHE groups). And today is Saturday.

...

Unacceptable.

Soooo... I pull out my phone, call him, and ask if he wants to go watch conference at the Manavu Chapel with me tomorrow. As expected, he accepts with a barely contained hint of glee in his voice. Yessssssss.

Well, Sunday comes, and this time I'm not in my pajamas, but in Sunday dress. He comes to pick me up, and we walk over together holding hands. We watch it and cuddle. During the closing song, he put his arm around me and I leaned in right where I could hear his heartbeat. A secret... I love looking at people's eyes, I love playing with people's hands, and I love listening to people's heartbeats. I like his heartbeat.

Sunday morning session ended and we exited the chapel... but Jared said, "Let's go on a walk first." Okay... we talk about random things for a while, but he seems to know EXACTLY where he wants to take me. I let him lead, but I have no idea where we are going. Finally though, we get up onto the lonely little red brick path on Maeser Hill. I think this was his destination, because he finally stopped asking/saying random things and said, "Jenna, I've never had a girlfriend before..."

I know exactly where he wants to go with this. "Well, I've never had a boyfriend." I paused just long enough to prevent an awkward pause. "So... you wanna date?"

"Yes," he said.

"Okay," I replied. "Let's do it."

Well I suppose that was the purpose of the whole walk and the red brick path, because he wheeled us around and we started to head for home. We didn't say much for a minute. And then he abruptly said, "So... I've never been kissed before either..."

I blinked. "... ... Me neither."

He turned to me. "Would you like to say we have?"

I thought: Ahhh! I just had my first hand-holding experience two days ago! And I've only been your girlfriend for approximately ninety seconds! You want a kiss? Already? Not that I'd mind, but isn't that a little bit fast-paced? Yikes, you're braver and bolder than I thought you were...

But my gut reaction was: Heck yes, I want to kiss you. So what actually come out of my mouth was, "Yeah." So we kissed once. And then decided we needed to try again. And then we walked home.

We got to my doorstep only to find Rachel making faces at us in the window, so I gave him a goodbye hug. I shut the door behind me, and Rachel shook her head disappointedly at me. "You should've smooched 'im."

I glared playfully. "I did. Twice."

[Insert chaos amongst roommates here, and me being forced to tell the story about twenty times until everyone has heard it.]

Jared and I went to the last session of conference, and cuddled a bit, and then he walked me home. I gave him a hug, a kiss, and a hug, and went inside. By that time I was so tired that I just kind of collapsed into bed.

The end thus far.
Love, Jenna.

On Finding A Voice.

The last few days of this week, I have been plagued by a chronic stomachache and a severe lack of motivation. I do believe I am starting to get sick with something, although I hope I don't actually get ill. Thursday was when it hit me really bad.

Dull headache, complaining stomach, and even a little back pain. And the idea of doing homework was just so... unappealing. And the idea of going to class (especially dance) was even less appealing. So I kind of just curled up in a blanket and sat around. Not good, I know.

And then I had the urge to make cookies. I did. Not good, I know.

I didn't actually bake the dough once it was made. I put it in the fridge and let it sit. And then I just randomly made them later when Jackie came home. And ate a lot of the dough. Gaah! Not good, I know.

So now I was feeling worse. And I felt gross. And I needed real food. So I improvised and made onion soup, but I put rice in it because it needed more sustenance. I ate that. And I felt good. Good, I know.

But then Jackie made brownies. Marshmallow brownies. Not good, I know.

The next day I had a little more motivation. I did my homework and went to class. And then came home and felt awful. There was supposed to be a barn dance tonight, I remembered. Ooooh, but dancing sounds very unappealing right now. Moving at all sounds unappealing. Soon people started showing up at my house. And our back door doesn't shut very well, and it often just stays wide open if no one goes over and closes it.

So somehow my place became the meeting place as more and more people starting coming in. Eventually Michael found his way in. I was just sitting on the couch, being anything but the center of attention. Kind of ignoring people. And Michael comes over, and sits on the arm of the couch I was on, and leans over my way. "You going to the dance?"

I sort of mumble, "No, I don't feel well. I don't want to dance."

Rachelle then pipes up from the stairs. "Michael! You coming dancing?"

He answered... in the negative. Dang. Dang. Dang.

But Rachelle somehow still has a voice where I do not. "Why not? Because Jenna's not going?"

In reply, he laughed quietly, but he never actually answered. I groaned. All right, so I feel sick, but not that bad. But Michael doesn't need to know that. I immediately took on my best I-feel-like-crap demeanor and pretty much ignored him until he and everybody else left. After that... I began to realize how bad I really was feeling. Ugh.

I was pretty much moping around for awhile, and then I called my mother. I hadn't really been on the phone very long when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it.

It was Michael. I wanted to scream, Did you not get the message? I don't feel well, and I don't want to do anything tonight. Go away!

Michael said, "We made soup for you since you aren't feeling well. Come eat it."

I blinked. Hm. Do I want to go over there? Hm. He made me soup. Soup does sound good. Hm. Maybe I'll eat it and then come home. Kind of confused, I went over there and was presented... with, well, it wasn't exactly soup. It was more like chicken and dumplings. Still good though. I ate that. And before long I had been dragged into the living room to play video games, and before long a movie was put in... Mr. Bean's Holiday. Michael's friend, Jason, had brought it over. And Jason and his fiancée, Karissa, wanted to watch it. And before I really had realized what was going on, I had been tricked into staying all night.

A note... Michael hates Mr. Bean. He cringed every time something Bean did something stupid... which was often. And, not even five minutes into the movie, Michael's cringes transformed from small cringes into more dramatic reactions... like burying his head in my side. At which point I would attempt to peel him off (I never succeeded).

So, the peel-off method wasn't working. I scootched over. And I was watching him warily through the corner of my eyes with my marching band peripheral vision skills. Okay, now we aren't touching. This is good.

I start paying attention to the movie. I imagine I might have really enjoyed it if it wasn't for -- gyyyaaaaah! In shock, I realize that some time in the last thirty seconds of not really paying attention, he had replaced himself right next to me and somehow he had gotten his hand on my shoulder and he was leaning slightly against me. Oh, no, you don't!

I squirm and scoot over more.

And it happens over and over again. Scootch. Scootch. And then he's really, really close. Scootch, rinse, and repeat. I even tried placing the couch pillows in between us, but I am still mystified at how they ended up in my lap and the Michael ended up where the pillows used to be. Gyaaah! So, that wasn't working. I even tried to physically push him away, but he was so... rock solid that my efforts to push him away were in vain and he didn't budge. He noticed, but instead of taking the hint, I do think he was horribly misinterpreting it as a flirt-back. Gyyaaaahhh... what do I have to do? Scootch, scootch, rinse, repeat. Over and over and over again. By the end of the movie, I was pressed up against the arm of the opposite side of the couch, willing my hips to be skinnier so that I could scoot over more... and yes, Michael was right up against my side.

At this point... Michael was not getting the message. I leapt up and announced, "I'm going home! I... I should rest!"

And I fled into my house and locked the doors, left the lights off, and just hugged myself for comfort in the dark on the couch. Within a few minutes Jackie and Rachelle came home from the dance. "Heeeey!" said Rachelle.

"Hey," I said. After an inquiry into what I had been doing all night, I explained what had happened. I ended by complaining, "And so now my right side is significantly warmer than my left side. He was waaaay close..."

Rachelle gawped at me. And then proceeded to feel the side of my left thigh, and then the side of my right thigh. "This side is warmer!" she laughed.

I nodded miserably. And went to bed feeling horrible.

I didn't see much of Michael at all on Saturday.

But Sunday? Well, I did have to go to church. But I've never been so tempted to just not go. So the whole thing became Operation Avoidance.

I surrounded myself by other girls in sacrament meeting. Phew. Don't have to sit by him at least.

As soon as the "Amen" was said for the closing prayer, I stood up and booked it out of there and hid in the girl's bathroom until it was definitely time for Sunday School. At which point I went to the Fish Class (what we call the Providential Living class), because I was sure he wouldn't go to that one.

Phew. So far so good. But can I make it to Relief Society unscathed? Unknown. Relief Society is in the room right next to Elder's Quorum. It would be tricky business. I carefully went up half of the stairs up to the second floor. Looked up at the top. And, I kid you not, my inside froze. Crap.

Michael is standing post right at the top.

How am I supposed to get past him? Hm. He is more on the right side of the stair... I shall dash up the left side, and... uh... I grab my sacrament meeting program from my scripture bag... and pretend to read it intently as I dash up the stairs, as far away from Michael as I could possibly manage. And there were two people between us. I walked as quickly as I could past him without breaking into a run, my eyes trained on the program in my hand, but my peripheral vision focused solely on my goal... the Relief Society room.

I pass him. He sees me. "Jenna!" he exclaims.

No, no, Michael. I am deaf today. I can't hear you. And somehow, I walk a little faster, still without running. Michael decides I didn't hear his exclamation, and comes after me. No, no, no, no! I am so close to the door! Just several more meters!

In my peripheral I see him dashing towards me. Crap. Oh, but some one stepped in front of him. That may be just enough to allow my escape. I am about to step through the door when --

Bam.

I blink. A fist between me and the door, and a forearm attached to the fist, and biceps attached to that, and shoulder attached to that, and neck... and then Michael's grinning face.

Michael. No. I duck and dash under his arm, into the Relief Society room. Success! I win, I win, I --

Crap. I didn't take into account that Michael, could, if he so wished, enter the Relief Society room. And he did, catching me around the waist. I yelp, and he pulls me close. Craaaaaaaaap. I squirm until I am free, turn around and start towards a seat, but --

"Stop!" I turn and blink at him. He starts singing... "Get your kicks at 366, etc." He had modified the classic song Route 66, and was singing about my apartment. I said nothing until he stopped singing, at which point he looked expectantly at me, and I said, "Uh... clever." And with that I turned around and found a seat at the opposite side of the room, and didn't look in his direction until he had left the room, when I breathed a sigh of relief.

Relief Society passed slowly. I prayed and prayed and prayed that we would get out a minute early so I could escape and run home and lock myself inside. Except it didn't work. Perhaps I wasn't faithful enough, because we were let out a minute late, and I was dashing for the door, when a girl ahead of me opened it and went out. And I saw, waiting by the doorway... Michael. So I steered in Rachelle's direction instead. And we initiated a few long conversations with people.

I kept glancing nervously at the door. He was still there. And then, when Rachelle and I were finished with our conversations, we dashed to the opposite side of the room. There had to be another exit. There just had to be. The unfortunate thing about having church in the testing center is... they kept an awful lot of doors locked. If we had tried to exit any other way, we would have set the alarms off.

Apparently, I am not getting out of this encounter. I turn around and see that Michael, alarmed by his sudden not-being-able-to-see-us-from

-the-doorway, had entered and was walked towards us. I stand behind Rachelle, and hope he'll talk to her instead of me.

And... he does. Yes! As he says something to Rachelle, I dash in front and walk as quickly as I can in the direction of home. Come on, Jenna, you can make it! You can make it! And then... as quickly as I am walking, Michael has caught up and is talking to me. I was unhappy, to say the least, I keep walking quickly. The quicker I walk, the faster I will be home, and the less time I have to spend with Michael.

Once home, I shudder in relief. And I don't have to deal with him again until late that night. Late late. Nearly midnight.

He starts to talk. "So, what are you doing?"

I reveal nothing about what I actually was doing, but I mentioned instead that Rachelle and I had gone to see a friend at the webcam since he lived in California.

Michael gawps, "You are so cool. What are you doing tomorrow?"

Crap! I shall say NO to anything he proposes! ANYTHING!

"Uh... school."

"Oh, me too! What school?"

"Um, linear algebra, chemistry, and Irish dance."

"Wow, you are so accomplished. I just have to write an economics paper and an ethics paper."

"Eew."

A small, very short period of silence. Then, "We should go on a walk tomorrow, Miss Jenna from 366. You know you want to."

...You think I want to? Actually, I don't... "No, not really." Phew. I said no. I said I didn't want to. I said no!

It was almost a victory. Except it didn't seem to occur to Michael that I had said no. "Oh, come on. It will be fun! You know you like walks with me!" he egged, grinning impishly.

I blinked and stared. Did I not just say no, and give my reason as I didn't want to? And what was that? How dare you try to tell me what I should like and what I should want! How dare you keep making decisions for me! How dare you undermine the things I say! How DARE you. In that split second I reflected on how utterly powerless I felt when I was with him, and I almost began to fume. Exactly how explicitly do I have to say no?

I said quietly and coldly, staring as icily as I knew how, "I don't particularly like the phrases, 'You know you want to' or 'You know you like...' That's not very nice. That's not very nice at all."

He laughed smallishly. "Heh. Okay. Bye."

And with that he was abruptly gone. I won that battle, but I'm still not sure if I've won the war or not. We shall see. We shall see.