Prezzies

I have the greatest friends and family in the world.  Not only have they come over to take care of my kids and me; they've also brought and sent me a ton of stuff.

Ben's stepmom, Brenda, sent us this gorgeous afghan:

When it was delivered, it had Ben's name on it.  I texted him and asked him what it was, and he had nooo idea!  The return address was a woman we didn't recognize at all.  He told me to open it (he was really excited about it), and when I saw this gorgeous afghan, I was so worried.  Oh my gosh, some poor woman sent this to us by mistake.  She spent like a thousand hours making this for someone else.  What are we going to do?

Something helped us to solve the mystery - under the woman's name was the name of a tool company.  Ben's stepmom sells tools.  So we thought - is this linked to Brenda somehow??  Ben called Bren, and - mystery solved.  A woman she knows in the tool industry makes and sells afghans on the side, and Brenda thought it might be a nice get-well gift for me.  What a sweetheart.  The kids are obsessed with it.  We don't want them to ruin it, so it lives on our bed.

Bren knows I'm a sucker for chevron print; I should have linked this directly to her!

Ben's mom, Gloria, sent me a sweet card and $25 of cash!  She said that, instead of sending me flowers, she would just send me money.  My plan for that money is to get Ben a Christmas present. He won't give me money to buy him a Christmas present, so I'm going to get all sneaky with my get-well money. :)

This next thing is so great - a couple of days ago, at 9:30 at night, we got a knock on our door.  It was a pizza delivery woman.  We're like, "Dang it, you have the wrong house."

She's all, "Someone pre-paid this for you."

A lightbulb went off in my head.  "Wait...is it Canadian bacon and pineapple?"

She looked at the receipt.  "Yes!  Yes, it is!"

And that's when I realized.  Someone read my last blog post and ordered me a pizza!!  We looked a little more at the receipt and saw that it was my friend, Kathleen.  What a babe!  She ordered me a pizza, all the way from China!

This is Kathleen and her hubby, Nick, in Xian recently:

She's so great. She needs to get back home so we can hang out more.

In lieu of flowers, my mom planted these paperwhite bulbs for me:

Look at 'em!  They'll bloom around Christmas and be so pretty.  They don't need to be that close to any window to bloom, and that's perfect for me.  They live on my kitchen table.  It's been interesting growing potted bulbs.  The roots keep pushing against the bottom of the pot and making the bulbs themselves push up out of the soil and be exposed.  My mom says that's normal.  And I've seen lots of pictures of potted bulbs that are a bit exposed, so I'm not too alarmed about it.

And look what my sweet hubs brought home for me tonight (along with some much-needed toothpaste):

 Liles.  They smell so divine.  It smells like Hawaii in my dining room right now. :)

Thanks so much, everyone, for everything.  These things have uplifted my heart and made my recovery just a teeny bit easier.

My Recovery - Week Two

My Therapy Dog

My mom and dad got this teeny dog a couple of days ago.  Mom brought her over yesterday morning, and she became my own little therapy dog.  We snuggled and slept together.  Little Trixie/Stella/Fluffbucket/Boatfeet/Heartnose (they're trying to pick out a name for her.  They're looking at the first two names in the series.  The three latter names are my ideas.  I make up the coolest names EVER) couldn't have come at a better time, because I had a HORRIBLE weekend.

Going Through Withdrawals


Why the horrible weekend?  Oh, because I was out of Hydrocodone.  And I really thought I should try to use Extra Strength Tylenol in lieu of it rather than call in a refill on the Hydrocodone.  I just really, really don't want to get addicted to painkillers.  For realsies.  It's one of my biggest fears.  Up there with tornados and heights.  So I thought, "The doc knows what he's doing.  If I'm out of the big guns, that means it's time to bite the bullet and do my best with lesser pills."

I Have PostUterine Depression

So many allusions to firearms in that last sentence. Which is apt.  Because I felt like shooting myself the first day without the hydrocodones.  It was rough.  Not only physically, but also, emotionally.  I was a hot mess.  I cried off and on all day and night.  I haven't cried this much since right before I was diagnosed with clinical depression.  It felt good and bad to cry - good because it was cathartic; bad because it hurt my stomach. :)

My poor home teacher called that evening to ask if there was anything he could do for me/us, and I just started sobbing.  I felt weird asking if he wanted to vacuum my living room, so I asked him the only thing I felt comfortable asking - if he wanted to come over and help Ben give me a blessing.  It was a really great blessing and helped to calm me down. For a couple of hours. :)  Sheesh.  Hot.  Mess.

RLS from Hell

That night, I got a really, really nasty case of Restless Legs Syndrome.  I didn't want to disturb Ben, so I tried to sleep on the couch.  Right when I would finally doze off, I would wake with a start to discover my legs flailing around by themselves.  And so it went, clear until 5 in the morning.  Not kidding about that.  At one point, I was literally staring at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face, begging Heavenly Father to take it away.

He didn't take it away.  Which I didn't take personally.  As I told Ben, sometimes the answer is yes, and sometimes the answer is no.  If it's no, there's something I need to learn from that experience.  Ben doesn't agree.  He thinks that Heavenly Father is too busy with bigger problems.  Which I can see.  Civil war?  Refugees?  Or a girl with Restless Legs Syndrome?  Yeah.  Help the refugees.  For reals.  Whatever the reason for the unanswered prayer, I didn't take it personally.  It just made for an extremely miserable night.

I Am a Drug Addict

I muddled through one more day and one more horribly sleepless night - this one caused by just tons of pain - and I had had enough.  I called my doc, and they immediately called in more of the Good Stuff to the pharmacy.  And I've been doing a lot better since.  (And, of course, mentally beating myself up for not being able to function on Extra Strength Tylenol.)

How Did You Guys Do It???

I keep thinking about all of my friends that have had C-sections and wondering how on this earth they had more than one child.  They have basically my same recovery issues, PLUS dealing with a newborn baby, engorgement, postpardem depression...holy cow.  They are superwomen.

TV Anger

I had another rough night maybeeee...a week ago or so?  Yeah.  I think I hadn't eaten enough, or I stood up too fast, or something.  But my sister Nat came to visit, and when I got up to see her, I got seriously, seriously ill.  Nauseated, blacking out, etc.  I recovered after eating some saltines, and I lay on the couch, shivering in my blanket, while Ben sat with me and we watched TV.

He wanted to watch some show about people looking at houses in Alaska to buy.  And I don't know if it was how sick I was feeling or what, but I was watching this show and getting SO DANG MAD.  So this guy and his wife are looking at these houses, and the first house was this piece of crap that was going for $100,000, and it didn't even have plumbing, heat, or electricity!!!  The realtor is like, "Well, you'll have to bring some propane in to keep the heat, and that's $4 per gallon..."  And the guy and his wife weren't even surprised!  This didn't bother them at all!  They're like, "Oh, uh-huh."  And there wasn't a KITCHEN in the HOUSE!  It was this separate lean-to type place OUTSIDE for this lady to cook!!  I'm like, dude, this isn't Tahiti, people!!!  This is ALASKA!  It does get cold there sometimes!!  So I'm like, did the last owner of this house have to put on his snow pants, boots, gloves, etc. and tramp out there in 40-below weather to cook dinner???  It was so weird!  But the wife was only kind of mildly bothered about this, like, "Hm, well, that's not as easy as a kitchen inside..."  And of course, you had to use an outhouse to pee.  What if you have to pee in the middle of the night???  And it's 40 below zero???  But the husband is all, "But look at this dog yard they have for my mushing dogs.  It's so awesome.  Each dog has his own hut, and blah blah blah..."  And I was like, "YOUR MUSHING DOGS???  WHAT ABOUT YOUR WIFE???"  Seriously, I was so dang mad watching this show!!  I wanted to punch the TV!!

They ended up buying a place that had actual indoor plumbing and heating.  The husband was all mad about it not having a good sled dog area.  I was like, "DUUUUUDE!!"

And then there was this one where a guy and his wife were looking for a house along this river.  And again, no indoor plumbing or toilet.  They had a separate "bath house" thing where you have to tromp outside to get to it.  I was shaking in anger at this point.  Oh, and the realtor is like, "This is an active area for bears, so when you come out to use the bathroom, you'll have to bring your bear spray with you each time."  Are you freaking KIDDING me??  I was so mad that, with difficulty, I rolled off the couch and waddled downstairs.  I just couldn't watch that show for one more second.  And I lay in my bedroom, shivering, teeth chattering.

It reminds me of when I came home with Dylan after I had him.  I was just so ANGRY all the time.  Especially at things on TV.  I remember we were watching a movie...I think it was called The Transporter.  And I was just getting so MAD.  I was like, "All this show is, is these anorexic hussies, and this sub-par, balding actor, and a lot of driving.  I can't believe this movie even got made!!  Who even FINANCED this???"

It was a weird time.

I'm Really Sweaty

Man, I am ALWAYS hot and sweaty for the past couple of weeks.  I've honestly stopped wearing a bra.  So, sorry if you come over and see things you don't really want to see.  I just don't see the point in wearing a bra when all I do is sweat all over it.  And I wash my bras by hand, and I really don't have the energy to wash my each bra more often then every two days, you know?  So I just...wear my shirts without.  And figure that people can live with it.

My Bowels are Being Sybil-Like 

If you didn't catch the reference there, um, my bowels have a split personality right now.  And that's really all I want to say about that.  Oh, and that it's really not my favorite thing.

My Own Silver Linings Playbook

So there is one great thing so far in all of this hot mess of a recovery - my bladder.  Ever since I was 12, (I was telling my friend the other day that it's been since I was 15, but I realized that it really started earlier, when I went through puberty) I've had this constant, constant urge to pee.  Whether I have to truly pee or not.  It was alllllways there.  For 23 years.  It was uncomfortable.  I tried Overactive Bladder medications, which didn't do much to help me.  So I figured it was just something I had to live with.

When I had my consultation with my PA, she said that this surgery may not help with the urgency problem.  But that it would definitely help with the stress incontinence. So I went ahead and decided to get this burch bladder pin procedure along with my hysterectomy.

And guess what?  For the first time in 23 years, the constant urgency feeling IS. GONE.  I'm not kidding.

Can you imagine how it feels, after feeling like you have to pee all the time for 23 years, to not have that feeling?  Only to have that feeling when you truly do have to pee?  I'll go for like two hours without peeing and go, "Gosh, should I go pee?  I don't feel like I have to, but.....should I?"  I'm not used to going that long without hitting a bathroom.  It's amazing!!!

The Pain

When I envisioned my pain, I thought it would be centered around my abdomen, where my incision was made.  What surprised me for the first week and a half or so was that there was definitely pain in my abdomen, but that it really spread throughout my whole body.  It's that achey feeling that you get when you have the flu.  Every bone in your body hurts.  Every muscle in your body hurts.  That really surprised me.

The last couple of days (with the hydrocodone), it has changed a little.  The pain feels more like very heavy menstrual cramps or the beginnings of labor.  Occasionally, it will spread to my bumb or my lower back. But it's mainly just in that area.  And for some reason, that's easier for me to cope with. than the whole-body thing.

The Help

Oh my gosh, I have had soooo much help.  My mom comes every morning.  My sister has come four times in the mornings.  They clean, help with kids, get them off to school, etc.  It has meant the world to me.

And then in the afternoons, some sweet ladies from my ward have been coming over to help with kids and cleaning.  I feel so weird, like, "Hey, I'm completely lucid and able to walk around, but I'm not allowed to clean my house, so let me watch you while you scrub my toilet."  I feel a lot of guilt.  But they have been so fantastic.

And the food, oh the food.  People have been bringing a steady stream of food for the past week and a half.  I even had a lady bring a casserole today.  That has been awesome.  (Although I keep telling Ben that I have been really jonesing for a pizza...  And ice cream.  Always ice cream.)

And then my sweet mom takes one of my Warring Children (Sadie and Micah) with her every day.  Micah goes with her one day, then Sadie the next, and so on.  And that has made a world of difference.  I just don't have the strength to play referee between those two. And she knows it.

So yeah, I'm really, really grateful.  And hopefully these psychotic anger-at-TV and bawling-all-night moments will stop happening so frequently...  And eventually....eveeeeeentually, I'll start to feel a little more like myself again.

If you want to come over and see me, do.  I'm here.  Allll day.  Eeeevery day.  And when you come, bring me some canadian bacon and pineapple pizza, mmmkay?

Putting Up the Ole' Tree

So, true to form, our kids cajoled us the day after Thanksgiving into setting up the Christmas decorations. And when I say "us", obvey, I mean Ben.  'Cause you know, I am basically useless these days...I sit on the couch.  Or lie on the couch.  If I'm having a hot flash, my blanket is on the floor.  If I'm shivering, my blanket is on me.  There is no in between.  I'm dying of heat exhaustion, or I'm shivering so hard that my teeth are chattering. It's neat.

(My sis, Lex, said the word "obvey" the other day and I nearly died laughing.  It's my new favorite thing to say.)

Ben's dad bought him this Christmas train when he was a kid, and a few years ago, when we were in Washington for Christmas, Ben's mom let us take it home with us.  He looooves this thing.  A lot.  As do our kids.

Unfortunately, the kids have been a little....destructive with the train set.  And when I say "the kids," I mean Gage.  So Ben is going to put it away tonight.  Which is sad.  But someday Gage won't be two anymore, and we'll be able to bring it out and enjoy it.

I inherited lots of ornaments from my mom a couple of years ago.  So I had the kids decide what colors they wanted this year, and much to my chagrin, they went with a weird, patriotic type of theme, apparently:

But again, the kids will only be little for so long.  So I'm going to let them pick heinous color combinations for Christmas for as long as they're in our house.

So this is a new tree we have this year!!  Ben went to Black Friday at Home Depot at four in the morning and got it.  It's totally prelit!!  Originally, $180.  On Black Friday at 4 a.m., $60.  Aw yeaaaaah.  Our days of winding and winding our other tree with lights and trying to figure out why they look weird or unbalanced is OVER.  I'm thrilled about it.

Ben unpacked this ornament and brought it to me:

"Kar," he said, "Can we just get rid of this ornament?  We must have inherited it from someone.  It means nothing to us. We've never been to the Bahamas.  Should I put it in the D.I. bin?"

"Um, hon, yes we have been to the Bahamas."

"What?"

"Yeah.  In January.  That's where we went on our cruise.  We picked this ornament out together at the Straw Market in Nassau."

"Ohhhhh!"

I laughed so hard.  How can he forget something like that?  Haha!  What a weirdo!!

Xena has decided that the tree skirt is her new throne.  She's so funny.

 Look at this pic Ben took:

 He's a good photographer, that one.

Moondrops, Thanksgiving Style

Dude, sorry this is a day after Thanksgiving.  Let's chalk it up to the fact that I had surgery last week, mmmkay? :)

Here is my third project using Moondrops, a product by Bright Side Crafts.  I'm loving how versatile they are, how many colors are available, the ease with which I can incorporate them into my cards, and how inexpensive they are compared to brads and eyelets.  I am an official fan.

So here is a card ready for some embellishments:

Moondrops are perfect for use with ribbons.  They make a good jumping-off point for the ribbons.

So I trimmed the nubbins off the moondrops - I used Firelight Gold for this project:

 Then affixed some Zots to the flat side of each Moondrop:

 Then I stuck them onto the folded ribbon, which I had already affixed sturdily to the card:

And that is that!  I was worried that I wouldn't be able to see the color of the Moondrop if it wasn't against a white background, but as you can see, the color really can stand on its own, no matter what the background:

 My hubs is such a good photographer.  I love having him around for these kinds of photo shoots. :)

If you want to look at some other great crafting ideas using Moondrops or other Bright Side Crafts products, head on over to their blog.

Kay, friends, it's time for me to attempt to pee and then lie on the couch for about an hour.  Such a busy life I lead. :)

I don't know how those "Real Housewives" do it...

...Have all that plastic surgery, that is.  Those are some tough ladies.  Because surgery is HORRIBLE.  If, someday, I say to you, "You know, I'm going to get a boob job," or "I feel like getting a chin implant," just punch me, okay?  I mean, neither of those things was going to come out of my mouth anyway - let's be honest.  But just in case.  Punch me.  Hard.  And say things like, "Catheter."  "Peeing yourself."  "Dripping bag."  That ought to bring back some pretty fierce PTSD moments and snap me out of it.

I think it says something for how terrible surgery is that here I am, ONE WEEK after surgery, just NOW barely lucid enough and un-nauseated enough to sit at a computer.  For now.  If I don't finish a sentence at the end of this post, you'll know why...I ran to the bathroom.  To try not to throw up, because throwing up really hurts my stitches.

Kay, so here I was, almost one week ago, in the "holding area:"

They had the coolest hospital gowns there.  They're hooked up to these awesome heaters in the wall.  They get all poofy and completely surround you with warm goodness.  Can I get one of those in my house??  They were also fun because they made my boobs look really big.

I had a nurse-anesthetist put me under, and I assured him that I was "okay with that," because that is exactly what my brilliant sis, Beads, is going to be in just one month!!  He seemed surprised that I knew what a nurse anesthetist was.  I don't remember counting backwards or anything.

Oooh, but I do remember my phlebotomist doing a really, really horrible job.  I have this girl who is my favorite phlebotomist, and I seriously wish I could pay her to be part of my entourage.  Then, if I ever needed blood drawn, boom.  She could do it.  And not leave me with a bruise on my arm one week later.  After Bad Phlebotomist left, Ben said, "I'm so sorry.  She used to work at the plasma center.  She was the worst one there."  Dang.

When I woke up from surgery, I felt great.  I slept a lot that day.  They wouldn't let me drink anything or even suck on ice chips or anything, which I was pissed about.  My mouth felt so dry.  One nurse finally took pity on me and let me suck on lifesavers.

I thiiiink my parents and my friend Megs came to visit me that day?  Not sure, seriously.  I'm sure I sounded ridiculous.  One of my favorite things is making fun of family members when they've had surgery and are stoned in the hospital.  So I'm sure my friends and family members have had a good time with that.

That first day, our goal was to have me sit up and stand up.  I reached that goal, and it exhausted me for the rest of the day.  I kid you not.  I fell into a stoned stupor for the rest of the day and night.  My cute nurses would wake me up to do stats and give me pain shots (the sites of which are still really sore), and that was it.

The second day, I had to go on four walks.  The walks could include trying to use the bathroom.  You see, I had to re-potty train myself.  When you get this burch bladder pin thing, they set up a catheter that comes through your skin above your pubis.  You clamp it, let your bladder fill up for a couple of hours, then go try to pee.  Then you unclamp your catheter, and the rest that you couldn't pee out, comes into that catheter and into a bag.

Oh, how I hated that catheter.

It was stitched very painfully and tightly.  If the bag got bumped, that area of my skin stung so badly.  Same with my "drainer of gross surgery liquids" catheter that was a couple of inches away.  So much pain.

Some people graduate from the catheter and get to go home without it.  Not me.  I didn't get that dang thing out until Monday, people.  Nightmare.

I had a ton of visitors that second day.  Maybe 8?  It was great.  And I slept in between.  And I graduated to "clear fluids" that day.  Broth, jello, apple juice....I wolfed it all down.  Or, I guess the better phrase would be, "I lapped it all up."  I was allowed coke that day.  So all was well.

The third day, I just worked more on potty training and sleeping and just really enjoying my time.  Seriously, Ben didn't bring the kids the whole time I was there, and I was sooo okay with that.  And that day, I got to start eating solids. Ben brought me some bean burritos, which was awesome.  I got to go home that evening:

And look at the cuteness that was waiting for me when I got home:

Welcome Home signs from Dylan and Sadie.

 Along with some really great works of art using my "every holiday you could ever celebrate" stamps.

 Micah and Sadie did these for me.  I've now been officially wished a Happy Hannukah, Happy New Year, everything...

Oh, and look at my welcome-home gift from Ben:

A stackable unit for my kitchen!  It's much, much needed.  I'm thinking of moving it over to that out-of-the-way corner, though.  It makes the kitchen a little shadowey where it is right now.  We'll see.

Ben took great care of me and the kids all weekend.  Dylan has a small TV in his bedroom where he can play Wii.  Apparently, he got grounded from the Wii, so Ben set up an extra cable box down in my bedroom and brought Dylan's TV down.  So I can watch TV down there whenever I want! And he kept the kids out of my hair so that I could be in pain and stoned all by myself.  I worked on potty training and got caught up on all of the episodes of "Love it or List It" that I could ever want.

I finally sufficiently potty-trained myself enough that I was able to get my catheter and blood-letting thingey (?) out on Monday, and dude.  No numbing shot.  The doctor and nurse just ripped those stitches out and then rrrripped those things out of my body.  After I sufficiently recovered (I blacked out, my ears started ringing, and I almost threw up), I was pretty pissed about it.  I mean, where is the bedside manner???  Where is the care??

So then we drive home, and the doctor had failed to let us know that the extra pee from this gaping hole that he didn't bother stitching back up or anything would just overflow all over me in the car seat.  In essence, I peed all over myself.   As Adam Sandler would say, "Peeing your pants is the coolest." Mom brought me over some Depends.  I am a fan.

I really thought I had reached the lowest of the low when I peed all over my nurse when I was in labor with Dylan, but this may have beat the Most Humiliating Peeing Incident Record.  Peeing myself in the car and having to wear Depends for awhile.

My sis, Lex, and my mom have been taking care of us each day this week while Ben has been at work.  My mom brought Fancy Nancy paper dolls for Sadie, Lincoln Logs for Dylan, and a Memory-type game for Micah.  And today she was especially brave and brought play-doh.  Lex would have her "shift" in the mornings, and she was so adorable.  Yesterday, when I woke up, a meal supplement shake, scrambled eggs, and toast were waiting for me on my nightstand.  A couple of hours later, I saw my cell phone resting by my hand.  It was like a little fairy came in and bestowed the things I needed while I slept.

Last night I felt really, really horrible.  I didn't eat much for dinner, so I think maybe that's what happened?  More ear-ringing, blacking out, and nausea.  I was alarmed and really really cold and scared.  But I slept all night and seriously ALL DAY LONG, and I feel awesome right now.  I'm going to actually go hang out with my kids while my hubby makes Thanksgiving pies and yams.  The man does everything.  He's the greatest.

In Lieu of Stitches

Ohhh my poor little Gagey.  He is so accident-prone (like his mom).  Today he tripped on a discarded sippy cup and landed chin-first on a footrest that one of the kids had turned upside-down on the carpet. 

I was on the phone with Ben when I heard Gage cry and went to check it out.  And when I saw this gaping, bleeding cut, with the little fat cells in there, I was like, "Oh, honey.  You'd better come home.  We have to go get this stitched up."  (We only have one car.  Which is so much fun.  But still better than having Ben gone.)

So Ben came home and we rushed him over to the pediatrician's office.  Luckily, this was a job not for stitches, but for that superglue stuff.  Ben went into the office with Gage and I stayed in the foyer with Micah.  Which was just fine with me.  I heard Gage's cries from down the hall, poor kid.

So now he's all glued together:

Here he is, in all of his luscious-lipped, eczema-and-booger-encrusted glory:

We went to a wonderful hole-in-the-wall Mexican food place for lunch afterward to celebrate.  Mmmm.

Oh, and hey, by the way, I'm going in for major surgery tomorrow.  Can you pray for me?  I'd appreciate it.

Lap Swimming. And a really funny story.

My mom and I work out together every Tuesday and Thursday.  Today, she suggested that we do lap swimming.  I haven't swum laps since...college?  It felt great.  Though I really need some goggles.  Yikes.  Bikes!

Swimming laps reminds me of a funny and very true story.  Wanna hear it?  I thought so! 

So.  My sophomore year of college, I had a roommate who was a little...crazy.  For reals.  Let's call her...Cadence.  (Just because my son is watching My Little Pony right now.)  Cadence never went to class.  She painted her fingernails three or four times per day.  She watched The Sound of Music every single day.  She stole money from our bedrooms.  And she would cut herself with sharp objects, so we had to hide all of the knives.  It was nutty.

But the craziest thing of all about Cadence was when she went swimming.  She would swim for about four hours per day.  Not kidding.  I went with her a few times, at the beginning, before she started stealing all of my money and cutting herself.  And you know, I wouldn't swim for the whole four hours.  Just one.  And I swam laps, you know, for exercise.  But Cadence...when she swam, she would, like, flit around.  Like a fish.  She would burst out of the water like Ariel from The Little Mermaid.  She would swim in circles and flip her arms around like fins.  It was a little weird.

One time, she sat down next to me and said, "Kar, can I talk to you?"

"Sure."

She sighed deeply.  "I really, really wish I was a fish."

"Haha!  Oh, wait.  You're serious.  Wow.  Um, really??"

"Yeah," she said dreamily.  "My life would have so much more meaning if I was a fish."

"Um....oh??"

It reminded me of The Incredible Mr. Limpet.  Have you ever watched that movie?  I used to really like it.  Until it hit a little too close to home.

Things got so weird with her that, at the end of our first semester living with her, my other two roommates and I asked the manager of our apartment complex if we could get transferred to a different apartment.  Cadence said to me at this point, "If you move, I'll kill myself."

I had just had it with this girl.  She had stolen all of my money and made my life a living hell.  So I retorted (in a very uncharitable way), "Do what you want.  I won't be held responsible for you.  I'm outta here."

The apartment manager ended up moving her, instead of the three of us, and a darling, darling girl, who ended up being my lifelong friend, Lynita, moved in. 

Cadence was still in our ward at church. I often wondered how her new roommates were faring with her.  She only lived a few apartments away, so I saw her a lot in passing, and it was awkward...  But boy, was I glad not to live with her anymore.

And that is the story of my roommate who wanted to be a fish.