The Face that went Viral

All my life I’ve had to swim upstream against the world constantly telling that I am not beautiful enough. I’m not beautiful enough to walk into a restaurant without disgust-filled, wide-eyed stares. I’m not beautiful enough to walk into a store without degrading marks from strangers…Strangers who forget I have eyes that can see their never ending gaze, and ears that can hear their hurtful words.

People often forget that I’m more than a girl with a facial difference. They forget I’m more than just my face - I’m more than just a birthmark. They forget I’m more than something to stare at with their wide eyes and open jaws. People forget that I have a name.

My goal is not to indorse or promote this Facebook group,
hence blurring their name, link, and logo.  My only goal is to
tell my story and respond to the situation.

My name is Crystal. I love to travel the world, capturing beautiful moments with my camera, pen, and journal, in hand.  I'm a baker (creme brûlée will be my next challenge!), a Jamba Juice addict, and future American Sign Language Interpreter.

I'm someone who has experienced tremendous joys, but also gut-wrenching sorrows. I’ve swam with dolphins, adventurously lived overseas, but I have also experienced the loss of my baby niece and have watched my mother take care of my father in his poor health.  I am more than the mark on my skin.

There is so much more depth to who I am than the appearance of my face…But people forget that. It’s a rarity when I go a day out in public without one person who stares at me, one person who makes a rude remark…treating me as though I am only half a person because of half my face.

In the past I’ve been told by (adult) strangers that I must have skin cancer, that there is something wrong with me, and that it’s not really a birthmark. Strangers have persisted that I should have surgery to “fix” my face, even after I tried to educate them by explaining that it’s not that simple – and I’m happy with who I am, how I am. Others have told me that I must be courageous, for if they were me – they’d never even leave their house. Sometimes I can’t even drive my car across town without nosey eyes invading my personal space with their prolonged, demeaning stares.

Just like millions of other people, I have a birthmark. Mine just happens to be on my face.

The birthmark I have is called a Port Wine Stain. Three of every 1,000 people are born with this kind of birthmark and they are most commonly found on the face and neck.

Instead of being the typical skin-deep birthmark, mine goes all the way to my brain as it is caused by extra blood vessels. If people look in my ears, down my throat, and in my nose, there is an obvious color difference. (Not that I usually go around asking people to look up my nose. Apparently that’s socially unacceptable…Even in California.) My left upper lip is also affected in color, and in size, as well as my left cheek…Even my bone structure is different on the side with the birthmark! (But it’s kind of cool…It’s similar to a mood ring as it changes colors with the temperatures of the day. People always known I’m cold before I even say a word!)

Doctors warned my parents that I could possibly have seizures within the first 24 hours of my life. If I did, I’d have them for the rest of my life. I’ve been incredibly blessed that this has not been an effect of my birthmark and I’ve never experienced a seizure. However, my birthmark does effect my teeth, gums, and my eye.  I'm also still at risk of later developing epilepsy later in my life so my doctors and I closely monitor the blood vessels around my brain with an MRI ever few years.

Due to the extra blood vessels, I have extra blood pressure in my eye causing an 80-year-old disease called glaucoma. From the age of 8-years-old, I’ve had to live with and accept fact that my left eye could possibly go blind one day in my distant future…as well as administer eye drops to my eye twice a day. Every few years I also have to have MRIs to make sure that none of the extra blood vessels have expanded to cause any damage to my brain.

How I normally look - with basic,
inexpensive, everyday makeup
from one of the best places
ever created: Target.  Often people
recommend that I switch makeup
brands because they, "hide things
like that better".  I don't feel the
need to hide who I am under expensive
brands of makeup that smoother my
skin.  I don't  feel the need to hide who I am
to make others more comfortable.  My
birthmark gives me a unique opportunity
to help educate others.  Why not use it?

About every 2-3 months I also have laser treatments on my birthmark. I’ve had close to 42 treatments throughout my lifetime. As a child I was allowed to sleep through them, but now I’m awake while the doctors “beam me up”.  (You can see some videos that have been taken at previous treatments if you click here.)

The laser’s job is basically to go in through my skin and to burst the excess blood vessels. For two week to a month my face is a darker color than usual. To give you an idea of the discoloration, the picture at the beginning of this blog that went viral was taken just 20 minutes after approximately 260 individual laser pulses and does not represent how I look on a normal basis.

Without the treatments, my birthmark is at risk of getting darker with age. Without the treatments, the blood vessels can grow, causing my skin to harden, become a pebble-stone-like texture, and bleed at random whenever it wants. After every treatment my birthmark is lightened, which I guess is a perk, but also not the reason I do them. The main reason I have the painful treatments is so I can be proactive in preventing future medical complications. Once the damage is done, there’s no undoing it…and I want to avoid that possible route if I can. (For those wondering, yes, these treatments hurt. The more pulses they do the more it hurts. Praise the Lord for the numbing cream I wear beforehand to help dull the painful shock of the laser!)

No matter how many treatments I have and even if my birthmark becomes undetectable to the naked eye, I will always have my birthmark.  My cheek will always look swollen and my features asymmetrical.  I will always have glaucoma in my left eye.  The extra blood vessels will still go deep into my brain, and I will still have to have touch-up treatments when/if it darkens as I age.

To add to my story...This week, my face went viral on Facebook.

My face going viral on Facebook was never a goal of mine, nor was it anything on my bucket list. This wasn't something I planned or decided to do, it was something that was decided without me - completely without my knowledge or consent.

To sum it up: A group on Facebook with nearly 2 million followers has been using a photo of mine without my knowledge or consent - a photo that I took (just a selfie!) barely 20 minutes after a painful laser treatment on my facial birthmark. In addition to using my photo, they added text that says, "1 Like = Beautiful"...as well as their personal logo. My name and permission were not included in this process, nor was my story, a link to my blog or website.

Since the original post, my photo has received over 1,800 comments, nearly 400 shares, and almost 25,000 likes.

No, I'm not kidding.

I didn't know about this until Monday afternoon, after arriving home from my math class. A friend sent me the link saying they saw my face in someone else's newsfeed and the photo already had over 14,000 likes within the first 8 hours of it being posted.

Boy, have I been in shock! All week I've been going through many emotions. I've been going back and forth between denial, anger, frustration, to "this can become something positive!"...just to name a few of my emotions and thoughts.

It angers me to know that someone took my situation for their personal gain. It angers me that they took a specific photo...a photo that shows how I look only 2 weeks out of every 2-3 months...without sharing the background and ongoing story with it. It angers me that they never even asked for my permission.

And overall?? The whole situation has hurt. It has made me feel icky all week. (I work with 4-year-olds...Icky is the best word I can think of right now.)

Those who know me know that I am 100% open about my facial difference. They know I blog about my story on a regular basis...the cause of my birthmark, what can happen if I don't have laser treatments, the struggles (emotionally, physically, and mentally), the stories in regards to specific situations/interactions I have with people, and about my treatments, etc.

This is how I look without makeup.  I am
constantly going out without applying
foundation and powder to my skin.  I've
always had the mindset of, "while makeup
is a nice luxury, I always want to be
comfortable in my own, natural, skin.  I
never want to feel as though I have to
wear makeup to feel beautiful."  Makeup can
be fun, but a little foundation on my cheeks can't be,
and isn't, the foundation of my beauty.

I don't mind my story getting out there, as that's actually a part of my life's goal...But what I don't want?? I don't want my photo to go viral without the story being told. I want people to know my story - but not with the purpose of gaining sympathy. I want my story to be known in attempts of educating other people, and in hopes of motivating a cultural change in how "different" people are treated.

I've taken my story and blogged about it openly. Trying to take some recent negative situations and create something positive out of them, I do sensitivity trainings in hospitals.  I also talk to different classrooms at a local elementary school in hopes of teaching children how to be curious in a kind way and to allow them to ask their questions they may have.  (You can read more in detail about my hospital situations here and more in detail about speaking to the children at schools here.)  One day I hope to do a TED Talk as well as be a speaker for Women of Faith. I even have a few book ideas based around my difference and I’m hoping a publishing company will invest an interest one day in the future. (I've always been a big dreamer!)

But this whole thing of my face going viral on FB without consent??...It makes me feel awful on so many levels.

A part of me feels as though, while some of the "likes" are probably genuine in their thoughts of my beauty. But a part of me also feels as though they're 25,000 sympathy likes...and I've never been one who needs pity.

I don't need 25,000 strangers to validate who I am, or my beauty. I don't need help from the Internet and strangers behind their screens to tell me that I'm beautiful. Just because I have a facial difference doesn't automatically mean that I lack confidence, or think that I'm "ugly". In fact, while I've had my up-and-down days, that's never been a big struggle of mine. If I don't need to be validated by strangers, then why does the world feel that it needs to do that instead??

I've always known I'm slightly physically different, but until Monday, I never realized I was different enough to inspire such a viral meme.

Many friends of mine have recommended that I shouldn't read the 1,800+ comments that have been left in reaction to my photo. However, while I appreciate the advice, strangers comment on my birthmark all the time. It's a daily thing to have a stranger approach me in a store, or to stare at me across the room of a restaurant. What's the difference between listening to constant remarks, verses reading them?? That being said - I spent over an hour going through every comment and every share that was posted.

Going into it, I knew I had to read them with a dose of humor…and I’ve had a LOT of laughs while reading some of the responses. The majority of the comments have surprisingly been positive while others caused laughter as I knew I couldn't take them too seriously.

The names of those who left the comments aren't important.  Some of these comments are ones I've heard before, while many are ones that are new.  They've ranged from people telling me that they wished they were purple as well and there was one who wrote a post asking God to remove the "evil" from my face...followed by an "lol" (which this one is ironic, as I've never prayed for God to remove my birthmark).  Some stated that they are glad that we don't get into heaven by looks alone, and someone even posted that they wonder how old I am as the photo has been on there for years...even though I only took the photo within the last year or two and the shared date clearly marks this last Monday.  They've also said that my birthmark will fade with age (it won't), that a doctor can help me, and people have given makeup advice.  But most have said I'm beautiful, they're jealous of my unique color scheme, and that it's the inside that counts.  (Although, I have to add - it's interesting as to how many people have said, "God doesn't create junk"...Am wondering where that 'trendy' one even originated from, and why.)

I'm more than these "likes", "shares", and comments.  My worth, story, beauty, and value are so much deeper than what happens in the digital world - and I firmly believe that for everyone in the world.  The amounts of "likes" we have on Facebook or the amount of followers we have on Twitter do not define us.  We're all different in our own ways - whether our differences are visible or not.  But more than that?  We're all beautiful and special in our own ways.  We are more than the pixels that people see on their screens, and we can't allow others to make us believe otherwise.  We are all fantastic and brilliantly created just the way we are meant to be!!

I hope to have chances to be heard as I try to raise my own voice, but also represent the voices of many others who endure similar, unnecessary, experiences...people who may not have the confidence or ability to speak up. Some of my experiences are painful and they often sting - just like this week’s. However, even the most ugly and hurtful situations can develop into the most beautiful and unique story.

My response

Often I feel as though God is telling me, “I can take these ugly experiences and help them become beautiful if you allow me to use you. You have so much potential as I have much bigger plans for your life than what you could ever even imagine. There is more beauty in your life than you’ll ever know.” (Like my favorite verse, Jeremiah 29:11.)

Sure, having a birthmark that covers half my face can be a challenge. I have my good days, and I have days where I sometimes struggle…whether it is with strangers or with personal, internal, battles. Either way – I feel it’s an extraordinary opportunity to reach out to others in hopes of educating them, possibly making a small difference in the world…and I think that, alone, is a beautiful thing. Why not embrace it?

But hey...The positive part of this whole crazy experience?  My dating pool has probably grown from a small fishbowl to an ocean full of fish.

The Travelin' and Facebook Viral Chick,

Crystal


PS: For those interested, this is the original entry where in which photo came from.  And if you'd like to hear about my mother's journey of having a child with a physical difference, check out her brilliantly written entry, The Stain.


******UPDATE: Since posting this blog 2 weeks ago, I've come to learn that my image has been shared in at least 5 different Facebook times, going viral at least 16 times - that I know of. One group has 30 MILLION followers.  In that specific group, my photo has over 256,000 "likes", 1,000 shares, and over 13,000 comments.  This has not been a one time thing...And it inspires me even more to get my story out there.*********

...And that's not okay.

How I look with Makeup

Waking up this morning, before I even looked in the mirror, I caught myself doing something I've never, ever done. Before even opening my eyes, I was instantly telling myself that today, I am not beautiful.

Yesterday I randomly had a laser treatment as Sunday I received an email confirming an appointment for the next day...an appointment that was suppose to be cancelled.  My treatments are about a three hours drive away - to and from - and I found myself at a crossroad.  Do I cancel my treatment at last minute, even though it wasn't my error?  Do I go and have it done anyway?

For a many reasons I decide to go and have it done.  Before I knew it, I found myself packing a bag and driving the three hours to Fremont on Sunday afternoon.

My appointment went well, and actually, this was my first time going alone.  (Which made my mother extremely nervous, primarily for the drive home after my treatment.)

This treatment, though, was done a little different.  The size of the laser was different and they treated my lip.

I've mentioned in my blog several times that while the birthmark doesn't usually bother me, my lip always does.  It's the physical part about myself that I feel most self-conscious about.

Yesterday, after the treatment, my lip was a little swollen.  I expected swelling...But what I didn't expect?  I didn't expect to wake up this morning to the actual amount of swelling that I had.

Before I opened my eyes I knew...I knew the swelling was bad and I dreaded facing society, but more importantly, I dreaded looking myself in the eyes in my own mirror.

Birthmark with no make-up.

After I opened my eyes, I noticed that my eye also felt a little swollen...But I expected that as that's happened in the past.  (They didn't treat my eye as I'm not comfortable with that idea if I'm awake!)

While laying in my bed I look towards my window and I caught myself thinking, "Oh...Hey...What was that?  What just flew out my window?  Oh, that was just my confidence for the day.  Maybe even for the week."

When I finally looked in the mirror as tears threatened to spill out of my eyes, my suspicion became a fact.  The left half of my upper lip is pretty swollen.

I even walked into my mom's bedroom as I covered my lip and told her, "I have the biggest lip on the block."

As I was driving to meet my friend today, I had a major revelation.  Was I judging me for myself, or was I prematurely taking on the role of judging myself through society's eyes??  The eyes that I knew would soon see me, the eyes that normally react in a negative manner?  Was I judging myself, putting myself down, before anyone else could??

Here I am, this gal who is starting to do sensitivity talks in hospitals and who goes to share with elementary kids about the true meaning of beauty - yet, in this moment, I wasn't even practicing what I 'preach'.  I feel as though I should probably have it more together than I do.

The words that usually make me angry when other people use them against me, I was saying them to myself.

I didn't need society to tear me down this time around.  I was, and am, perfectly capable of doing it myself.

Again, I've never done this before.  Ever.  I don't normally tear myself down in this way.  Enough people already try to do that for me.

If I wouldn't say these things to my friends or to another person, why in the world is it okay to say these things to myself?  Why is it not okay for my friends to put themselves down, but yet, it was okay for me to put myself down?

The thing is, I know it's not okay.  Where was my attempt at holding a positive attitude??  The positive attitude that I do my best to cling onto in every situation life throws my way?

Yeah, the treatments make me nervous.  They're painful and uncomfortable.  The days after, though, are often extremely emotional for me.  I often forget that I'm "different" than everyone else in the world, but these treatments are always a big reminder.

About 30 minute after my last treatment.
I'd post a photo from today, if I felt more
comfortable.  Maybe next time, as my
doctor wants to treat my lip at least 3 times.
And if there weren't medical risks involved,
more than likely, I wouldn't even do the
treatments.  I'm happy with who I am,
as I am.

Sometimes I probably make the treatments seem like an easy-breazy kind of ordeal and I probably play them down, but really, they're hard.  While I'm use to the comments and stares of my normal face, this after-treatment look isn't my normal.  So, when you add an already emotional situation while enhancing something you're already self-conscious about, it's an even bigger struggle.

Today I learned that I really need to work on my self-conscious mindset that I have about my lip.  (And when I write that and read it out loud - it realize that probably sounds kinda lame.) Granted, every woman, every person, usually has something they're not comfortable with about themselves.  Mine just happens to be the lip - and my self-consciousness just happens to be temporarily enhanced, because, well, half of my upper lip is temporarily enhanced and I know this feeling isn't permanent...Just like the swelling.

However, I also realize that unless I figure out a way to deal and cope with this issue, and although the feeling is currently temporary...if I don't gain control of it somehow, I will feel it again next time they treat the lip.  (Which finding a way to deal with it is wwaaaaaaayyy easier said than done, right?)

Often I blog about my stories with the way society reacts to my face, to my treatments.  This time, however, I'm 'tattling' on myself.  I wanted to let you know that for the first time (ever), I stepped into the shoes of the attitude I despise the most.

This time I was the still victim, but I was also the victimizer.  I was the offender...And that's not okay.  I know I am so much more than how I look.  I know I am so much more than my circumstances!  

Maybe I'm a little too honest in my blog sometimes, maybe not.  I don't really know.  All I do know is that I want to share this journey with you in an honest way.  I want to share the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly parts.  I want to be transparent.  

This is just a part of my journey.

I'm so glad that we don't have to feel beautiful to be beautiful.  Aren't you?

The Travelin' Chick,

Crystal

PS: For those wondering why I decided to do the treatment that I though was canceled:

1. No matter what I am doing the treatments.  I could either bail out of this one, and do it later when classes start back up.  Which means I'd take off work and school - or I could do it on a day I already had off.
2. I thought about not doing the treatment because I'm going to the annual Free Will Baptist National Convention.  I fly out on Saturday.  Even my doctor asked me, "Are you okay flying purple??"  The more I thought about it, the more I realized...my FWB friends know my story.  Many follow it and many are encouraging.  I'd rather go visit a group of friends who I know accept me as I am, who are loving and encouraging, than to go and deal with people at my college who are often quite the opposite.  
3. It's hard to get an appointment in this department.  If I didn't go then, I wouldn't have an appointment for another few months.  I already haven't had one in 4 months (which isn't my fault). The longer I wait, the less effective the treatments will be.
4. I'd feel rude for canceling it the day of, as they wouldn't have time to find someone to take the space of my appointment.  

Dramatic Nerves

Have you ever had plans to travel somewhere, but the night before your big trip, you can't sleep?  You can't sleep possibly because you're extremely excited, stressed because there are still a million things to do before you leave, or because you are nervous about your upcoming adventure...Or you have a mixture of all three options!

That's pretty much how I feel tonight.  Yet, I'm not traveling on a big trip.

Tomorrow afternoon is the day when I'll be going to the hospital to share my story their lab department employees.  I'll be able to share my story in regards to my birthmark while doing a little bit of "sensitivity training".

I'm really excited to have such a unique opportunity to educate others, and to hopefully allow them to have a better understanding of what it's like to be in my shoes - or in the shoes of anyone with a visible, physical, difference.  But I'm also incredibly nervous.

I feel as though I've done a lot of public speaking for my age.  I've spoken at churches to raise money for mission trips, to share about missions, I've taken a speech class, and I've shared about my birthmark to K-6th graders.

I always get a little nervous every time I speak somewhere - but not quite like this.

All week I've been trying to figure out the perfect thing to say tomorrow afternoon.  Or, technically, this afternoon since it is currently 2 in the morning.  My "lecture" of sorts will be taking place in a little less than 11 hours, and yet it was only tonight when I finally figured out what exactly I want to say...And I know I still need to make some changes in the morning.

So why am I nervous??

I think I kind of freaked myself out earlier this week.


While thinking about my upcoming lecture at the hospital, I had a big realization.  Yes, I am use to speaking in public and I love doing that.  Yeah, I blog and Facebook about my birthmark experiences on a daily basis.  I even share with people I meet when the opportunity comes up!

When I speak tomorrow, though, some of the people who have said hurtful things and who have victimized me will be there.

(Let me clarify - I really dislike using the word "victimized" in these situations, yet it's the best I can come up with.  I don't like to think of myself as a victim, but in a sense, I guess that's kind of what I am in some situations due to the way others treat me.)

Those who have said hurtful things in the recent past will be there.

The good thing is, I'm not sure I'll be able to recognize those who have treated me in an ill manner in the past.  I don't generally focus on memorizing their faces and names, just the stories.

And although this whole sensitivity lecture is a chance to have my story told, to give them a better understanding of what is acceptable and what is not acceptable, I don't want to come across as though I'm intentionally attacking those who have attacked me.  I don't want to come across as though I'm dwelling in the past, or that I'm even angry - because I'm not.  I want to be sensitive, yet honest, in my sensitivity training.  I want them to know that while the past situations did take place, my only desire is to use the past to enhance the future for the better as I'm focused on a bigger, brighter, future.

When I first volunteered to do this, I really didn't think it would affect my nerves like this - but it has.

Speaking to children is a lot easier for me.  When I speak to the children, I feel like I'm working with a fresh slate.  With a new and fresh  attitude that is easier to mold in comparison to adults who have already had a lifetime of molding.  When I blog about my stories, even if those who have treated me a certain way read what I have to say, I don't have to look them in the eyes.  I only look at a screen while I type my message.

For years I've been accepting what people say to me without really responding, without telling them the affects of their words and hurtful stares.  I usually take what people say while later laughing about it, and/or making it into a joke...basically as a coping mechanism, and because some situations really are hilarious.

But now it's time to stand up.  It's time to stop just simply coping!  It's time to stand up for myself and for the others who are affected by the things people say and by the way they're treated - just because they have simple physical difference.  It's time to at least attempt to make a small difference, even if that means only one person listens to what I have to say and takes something away from my few words.


People need to understand that their words have an affect.  Their words have consequences, even ones that they can't alway see.  They can make an impact in a person's life - even if they are a strangers.  They can build someone up, or even tear someone down.

I'm ready to stop coping.  I'm ready for there to be a change.  But more importantly, I'm finally ready to help create the desired change.  (And actually, it wasn't until recent months that I realized that I even hold an ounce of power to make a change!)

Prayers are very much appreciated as I go to speak to the hospital staff in the afternoon.  I'm sure that my nerves are just being dramatic and I'm sure I'll be okay once I start speaking - Starbucks or Jamba Juice in hand!  Please pray for my nerves, open and listening ears, for me to have the right words to say, and for a comfortable setting and atmosphere - for both me and for those listening.

Thank you!  Thank you for reading this, for traveling on this journey with me, and for praying.  You have no idea how much I value the impact you have in my life.

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

The Cruise Ship that was on Fire

Last week I went on an Alaskan cruise with my mom that was on FIRE...Literally, and figuratively.  

You possibly heard of the cruise ship that caught on fire through different news sources, such as ABC News.  According to a few of my friends and other outside sources, our ship made national news!

After an hour or two of leaving Seattle, our captain of the Westerdam ship (Holland America cruise line) came on over the ship's speakers and told us there had been a fire in the boiler room.  Actually, by the end of it, there were two fires.  This caused us to make a return to Seattle so that inspections and any needed repairs could be made.  We didn't leave port again until Sunday afternoon.

Due to the delay of our second attempt of leaving Seattle, there was no way we'd make all of our stops in Alaska.  The leaders of our ship decided to cut out our stop in Sitka, Alaska, and to continue on to all the other ports.  To make up for the delay and issues that came up, the ship offered a $250 room credit (not per person, just per room).  In addition, they also have given us all 25% off of what we spent on this last cruise towards the next cruise that we may take on their cruise line.   (I'd really like to take their cruise to Antarctica   But sadly, that one will probably be out of my budget for a very long time.)

On the bright side, had we not had
the fire and had to return to
Seattle, we would have missed this
beautiful view of the city.  

Although many were disappointed about not being able to go to Sitka (as that's why many people chose this specific cruise), everyone was really patient.  Other than voicing some of our disappointment, there really wasn't any complaining.  Everyone stayed impressively calm, kind, friendly, and chill about the whole situation.  We were all grateful that the captain decided to return to Seattle.  We all were in agreement that it was better to return and miss a port to potentially avoid any future problems during the trip.  In the end, I even think that Holland America has become one of my top cruise lines to travel with.

Ironically, before the cruise took off the first time - I made a post on my Facebook:

"Here is to a cruise where I won't...

• get sick.
• be hospitalized in a foreign country.
• have an Indonesian stalker.
• get stuck in a turn style.
• have a toilet attempt to strangle me.
• have a family member in the hospital.
• do a random gravity check, followed by getting covered in mud by a glacier.
• or get pooped on by a dolphin.

Haha...My cruising experiences are never dull. I'm fascinated to see what adventures will come my way for this one."

I'm thinking that next time I should add hypothetical situations too, since a fire wasn't originally on the list. ;-)  

And just in case anyone is wondering - I've been able to compile the list above throughout 7 different cruises, not just one or two.

I've had many people in the past tell me that they don't want to cruise - they're too afraid.  They're afraid of situations like this, where there is a fire...or situations like the Titanic.  Some just don't like the idea of being confined on a cruise ship, afraid they may feel too claustrophobic.  

Once the fire took place on the cruise I had well-travelled friends tell me, "This is the perfect example as to why I will never ever go on a cruise."

With this cruise being my 7th, I obviously enjoy cruising...But why??

I like to refer to cruising as the appetizer of traveling.  While cruising, you get a little taste of each port...Of each city, state, and/or country.  You get an idea on if you want to make a return visit, or if you're satisfied with the 5 hours your spent there while on a ship.  More often than not, I find myself thinking, "After this cruise I want to hop on the next plane to return here - and I want to stay for a month!"

Another reason I love cruising?  Usually when I travel, it's to do things to help other people - to do work, and not to rest.  I've been to Japan, but to do disaster relief work after their tsunami and to hold carnivals for children in hopes of getting the Good News in their hands.  I've travelled to Mexico, but to help build a house for those who own land - yet sleep on dirt floors and who have no locks to protect the little they have within their tarp walls.

Traveling to do things for others is fantastic.  I love being able to go and to become immersed in a local culture, tasting what they taste, seeing what they see, hearing their stories.  I wouldn't trade my years and miles of experiences for anything in this world - and I really hope I can continue to do trips like that.  They are some of the best experiences I've had in my life!! But with cruising?  It's one of the few ways in which I can see the world in a relaxed setting where I don't have to work, I don't have an obligations.  It's one of the few times when I travel where I get to focus on myself and rest.

People say they don't want to cruise because the ship may sink, have a fire, or get stuck in an ocean.  Yet, those same people fly on planes that can have engine problems, have fires, or crash.  They drive in cars that can have the same problems - driving on roads where often their fate are ultimately in the hands of other drivers, in the hands of strangers.  No matter where we go, how we get there, there are always going to be risks in whatever we do - whether we stay home, go for a drive, plane ride, or go cruising.  (Granted, I say all this, but I  have always refused to get on the back of a motorcycle - and my own father has one!)

This last cruise was fantastic and one of my favorites - even with the fire.

I saw Alaska.  I got out of California's blazing heat.  I went to a mushing camp where they keep beautiful husky puppies and train them.  I even went mushing on dry land and got to cuddle with a 6-week-old puppy.  We sailed through glacier bay, I tried a reindeer sandwich, chilled pear soup (YUM!), hung out on the ship's spa, ate fantastic food (which included the best macaroni and cheese I have ever had), toured the ship's brilliant kitchen, went to a towel folding and origami class, and saw some really cool shows presented by the talent living onboard.  We even watched dolphins, whales, and otters while sitting on our balcony (and when eating dinner in the dining room!).  

Glacier Bay.

Funny story: While looking out for whales on our balcony during the first few days, we had no luck...so what did I do?? I spoke whale. My mom thought I was being ridiculous, but within about 5 minutes we had orcas swimming right outside our room. Thank you Dori, from Finding Nemo, for that educational influence and inspiration in my life. I've always wanted to be trilingual, and I look forward to adding this to my resume! ;-)

It's also pretty cool to meet all the people that are on the ship.  One of the fun things about cruising  especially in a smaller group, they often ask you if you'd rather dine alone - or with another group.  When you do this, you never know who you're going to sit with.  I enjoyed my time with everyone we shared a meal with while learning about their lives, hearing their stories, dreams, and cruising adventures.

I met people who sold all that they own so they can live their retirement out of their RV while seeing all of America.  A few neighbors from a gated community near Malibu came cruising together, as one mentioned that they feel more like family than just neighbors.  Some honored their friend's dream of taking the Alaskan cruise - just a month after their friend's death.  I even met a guy from San Francisco who wants to start a show about Cosplays.  

I really wanted to take this
pup home!

The majority of the people I met were also Christian.  I can't even tell you how much encouragement I received from a few of them that I got to know throughout the week.  While trying to make a decision about my future, it felt as though I got the confirmation from a new friend of mine about the decision I've been struggling to make during a very in-depth conversation we had...all while relaxing in the hyropool.

While cruising, I met a man who has lived quite a life.  I loved hearing his stories.  While talking, I had the chance to tell him some of my life goals - especially about wanting to do a TED Talk from my experiences with my birthmark.  He told me something like, "Oh, I've done a TED Talk before.  I'm good friends with the people who started the TED Talk company."  After giving him one of my recently-made business cards, he told me he'd email me soon.  Once he emails me, he wants me to email him part of my story so he can forward it to his TED Talk friends, telling me, "You've already accomplished some of the key things when it comes to doing a TED Talk.  You seem to have a lot of confidence in yourself, and the strong passion to make a positive different out of everything you've gone through."  Maybe through this random connection I'll be able to do a TED Talk one day, maybe not.  Either way - I was inspired and encouraged by the man and my few conversations I held with him, and I think that's equally as important.

Other people I met?  I met some people who have taken 15 cruises (although, I heard of a couple on board who have taken 64 cruises).  I met a lady who recently became a step-grandmother to a beautiful young girl from Madagascar.  The grandmother told me, "My granddaughter is from Madagascar.  She's 15-years-old and just finished her first school year in America.  I wanted her to see more of the world, so I brought just her and I on this trip together."   One of the officers of the ship even ate at our dinner table with us as she encouraged me, "Keep traveling the world!"

This is the eagle one of the waiters
made me.  Cool, huh??

A few times I even used my origami skills that often go unused.  I was able to get to know a few of the ship's staff members as they watched me fold a paper tulip, and one man from Indonesia (one of the waiters) even made me an origami eagle in trade.  Oh!!...and as I was doodling in my journal one evening, an artist even took the time to show me a few tricks on how to draw better with a technic that was new to me.

By the end of the trip, I didn't want to leave the ship.  I felt like I made a lot of new, good friends and was enjoying their company.  I was enjoying the sights of Alaska and the tasty food on the ship.  I was feeling nice, relaxed, and had a great time.

Cruising isn't for everyone, and I know that.  However, I recommend that you try it at least once to find out if it's for you or not...You may be surprised!!  And if you need help with tips, advice, information, or with anything else - let me know!  I'd be happy to tell you all that I know from all my times of sailing the wide, open, sea!

Thanks for the great trip, Holland America!

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

PS: Isn't it nice that I've FINALLY written a blog about traveling again?  The first time in what seems like FOREVER.  Haha.  And side note...All these photos are either from my phone, or a basic camera, except the one of Seattle and this one:

Exchanging the Negative for the Positive

I'm finally starting to feel better from my surgery!
After a long 4 1/2 weeks, I'm almost feeling
100% back to normal!  Yay!  :-)
Thanks to all those who have been praying
for me, who have visited, for all the FB
messages, and for keeping me company!

Even though I posted a few days ago, I'd like to apologize for disappearing for over a month…But I promise I have a valid excuse for my temporary disappearance! ;-)

In my time away I had the last few weeks of school – which included two major projects and finals.  I also had an unexpected adventure that included an ambulance ride to the ER, hospitalization, pancreatitis, and emergency surgery to have my gallbladder removed!  It’s been a busy month, needless to say.

The cool thing is, I had a negative experience with a couple of the nurses while hospitalized.  I know that doesn’t sound “cool” – but I’ll get to that.  Here’s the story of my hospitalization, and why I think my bad experience was a positive one…in the end. 

For the last few months I’ve been struggling with on and off stomach problems.  I went to see a doctor who told me that my issues were more than likely related to a glutton allergy, and then she sent me home.

A few weeks later I had a friend coming to town.  This friend and I lived together as flat mates (aka: roommates) in London and I hadn’t seen her since my time in England…It had been two years!  I was excited about this reunion.

The day before she came, I was having intense stomach pains that I chose to ignore.  Then she came, and I felt mostly okay.

My friend had plans to leave on Monday morning around 9 or 10.  However, at 5:45 am on that Monday morning, I woke up with pain in the middle of my back and feeling nauseous.  I called an advice nurse who made an appointment for me at noon, and left a message at work letting them know I wouldn’t be there that day – all before 6:30.

Before I knew it, the pain was worse.  The pain was so intense I was doubled over and couldn’t straighten my back.  Although I have a high tolerance for pain, I found myself doing the ugly cry.  (Us girls especially know that ugly cry!!  But this ugly cry was definitely uglier than the “PS: I Love You movie ugly cry.)

I woke my mom up around 7:30, who then decided it was best to call for an ambulance.  By about 10:00 I was already diagnosed with the pancreatitis, stuck gallstones, and found my way out of the ER to a room in the hospital for an extended stay.

Here’s where the fun part of the story begins.

I had to wait a couple of days before the doctor could remove my gallbladder.  To have it removed, we had to get my pancreatitis under control…meaning I couldn’t eat or drink anything.  I was only allowed IV fluids.

By the time I was allowed to have surgery, I was feeling okay.  No more intense pain.  No more being doubled over.  No more ugly cry.

The day of the surgery, I decided to shower.  I knew if I didn’t shower then – it’d be a few days before I’d have a chance to shower again.  So, I went to my bathroom to do so.

As I’m undressing out of the hospital gown, my attending nurse flung my door open and entered the room without knocking, or asking if it was okay.

As quickly as possible I caught the gown before it hit the floor, trying to cover myself.  I told her, “Excuse me – I’m trying to get into the shower.”  She said, “Oh, don’t worry – it’s just me.”  Wanting a bit of privacy, and irritated by the unwelcomed intrusion on my preference of modesty, I told her, “I don’t care who you are...whether you’re my mother, or my nurse.  I like privacy.”  Ignoring what I told her, she continued entering my bathroom to do whatever she needed to do, as I stood there trying to stay modest. 

While I recognize she is use to seeing the human body in its natural form, I also know that I’m not use to being in these situations.  I’m not use to others seeing me undressed.  Being hospitalized is not something I do often, and I still craved a bit of dignity in that situation. 

Then, I had my surgery…and the fun continued…with the same nurse.

One of the possibly side affects of having anesthesia is having your bladder “go to sleep”.  While not everyone experiences this, and while I hadn’t experienced this before in previous surgeries, this time I did.

Once awake, I called my nurse in request to go to the bathroom.  She helped me up and I tried to relieve myself, but I couldn’t. 

About an hour or so later, I called my nurse again to request more help.  She came in and told me, “I’m helping another patient right now – I’ll be right back to help you.”  Totally understanding and with patience, I waited.

I waited so long for her to come and assist me that I fell asleep.  By the time I woke up, I was extremely uncomfortable, as I really need to use the restroom.  I was still on IV fluids this whole time – increasing the need to “go” – and I hadn’t gone to the bathroom since before having surgery  (which had been more than a few hours).

Calling her into my room, she finally helped me.  Yet, my bladder was still sleeping.

Due to the side affect of not being able to use the bathroom, they decided it was best to use a catheter until everything started working properly.

My nurse tried and tried to insert the catheter.  If you’ve ever had to get a catheter – you know that this is an uncomfortable experience, physically and mentally.  After about 10 minutes of her trying, I eventually told her, “You need to get someone else to do this.  I can’t do this anymore.  This isn’t working.”  Although I requested her to find help, she continued to try.  I told her again, “No.  I’m serious.  You have to stop and get help.”  Finally, she listened to my request.

When my nurse returned with help, the lady who came to help took one look at me, looked at my nurse, and exclaimed with attitude, “What is THAT on her face?!?”  I’m pretty sure I rolled my eyes or something in reaction to her statement (Yay for pain meds??), as she then asked my nurse with persistent attitude, “Oh.  Is that something she’s had for a while??”

The lady talked about me, in front of me, but not to me.  She ignored the fact that I was there.  She ignored the fact, and forgot, I’m not just “something to look at” that is different.  She forgot that, although I am a patient, I’m also a human.  A person…A person who has feelings, who can hear her comments infused with attitude, and who could see the expression of her face during her reaction.

I know that it’s possible that she may of thought, “Maybe this is a reaction to medication or something else.”  That’s a reasonable possibility that I completely understand. However, the way she went about it was all wrong.  If she had that concern – she should have either asked me about it (kindly), or if she chose to ask the other nurse about it, she shouldn’t have done it in front of me in that shocking manner. 

As the assisting nurse started to help with the catheter, both she and my nurse started calling me by the name of “Carl”.  Thinking I must have misunderstood them the first time or two, I ignored it.  But by the fourth time of them using the name, I spoke up by saying, “Ummm…My name isn’t Carl.”  They replied in shock, “Oh, it’s not???”  I told them (again, remember, I’m on drugs, in a lot of pain, am frustrated, and am a little more blunt at this point), “No.  It’s not.  My name is Crystal.  That would be an ugly girl’s name.”  They told me, “What??  Crystal is a BEAUTIFUL girl’s name!”  Sarcastically I said, “No.  The name you’ve called me about four times – Carl – would be an ugly girl’s name.”

Once the catheter was in, I started to cry.  The whole thing was uncomfortable, I was in pain, and was miserable from surgery.  My nurse then told me, “It’s okay to cry.  I once got a shot and cried too.”

…What???  A catheter and shot are NOT nearly the same thing - at all.

During the rest of my time with that nurse, she would ask me, “What is your pain level?”  I’d tell her, “I’m at an eight right now.”  She would then say, “Oh, so you’re not in any pain?”  Or, another thing she would ask, “Do you want or need any pain medication?”  I would tell her, “Yes, I do.  I’m hurting really badly.”  She then would say, “Okay.  You don’t need any medication??”  I’d then explain, “No.  I do need pain medication!  I’m at an eight on the pain level scale.”

That nurse was an adventure…A frustrating adventure, but an adventure all the same – and a story to tell.

Before I get to the good, positive part, there is another story I need to explain.

Three weeks after surgery my doctor wanted me to have blood work done, making sure all my levels were okay and that the pancreatitis was completely gone.

Walking up to the check-in counter, the lady asked me for my medical record number and to see my ID.  Then she turned our conversation straight to my birthmark.

Instead of asking me about my day, or whatever, she asked me, “What kind of make up do you use to cover your hematoma??”  Mentally, I thought, “Hematoma??  It’s not a hematoma – but I’ll ignore that.”  I told her, “I use Cover Girl.”  She proceeded, “Oh, you should try using Bare Minerals!  It covers things like that really well.  I have a red spot on my nose, and you can’t even tell it’s red – can you??”  I then explained, “No thank you.  I don’t feel the need to hide my birthmark.  Even if it is a little frustrating at times, I figure it gives me a unique way to help and educate people – so why not embrace it?”  She replied, “That’s true.  I guess other people are more bothered by it than someone like you, who has it.”

I really don’t think the lady meant any harm in her statements and recommendation.  Her voice was 100% friendly and had no indication of attitude; unlike many other situations I’ve encountered.  Yet, I still felt bothered.

Going into the hospital to have lab work done, three weeks after surgery, I really don’t want to focus on my birthmark.  That’s not the intention of my visit.

I also did not ask for make up recommendations.  It’d be different if I had asked, “Your make up looks really good!  What brand do you use?” - but I didn’t.

There’s also the issue, especially in a hospital setting, of her assuming I had a hematoma.  In a sense, she was assuming a diagnosis for my birthmark being something different.  And had I tried the make up she mentioned, and had a reaction, the hospital is then liable due to their staff member’s advice.

And personally/mentally?  Her recommendation of changing make up interpreted in my head as, “Here – try this make up so you can hide your face.”…And that hurts.

Some people tell me, “She’s only trying to help”, or “She sees you wear makeup.  Maybe she thought you were trying to hide the birthmark.”  Both are valid thoughts, but my opinion?  There’s nothing to help…and in this day in age, I have a laptop, an iPhone, and I know how to use Wi-Fi access.  I’ve tried other make up.  Ican’t stand them, and choose not to use them for many reasons other than the discomfort and expensive cost of the special brands.  However, even if I hadn’t tried them yet, if I wanted another make up option, I know I can ask friends, go to Macy’s, or Google my options.

Besides, if a woman with curly hair walks up to her counter, does she tell them, “My dear girl – your hair is really curly!  I know of this GREAT hair straightener to help you straighten out that problem.”  She probably doesn’t.  That woman was born with her curly hair…It’s a part of who she is and maybe a part of her signature look – just like my birthmark is a part of me.

If these situations didn't happen on such a regular basis, I probably wouldn't have frustrated with this one…But these situations do start to wear me out, and it's not a good feeling when they happen as often as they do.  When people tell me this situation isn't really a "big deal", I often wonder if they would think and feel the same thing if they wore my shoes for a few days.

Also, in addition, moments like this make me wonder, “Why can’t strangers – whether they be hospital employees or the general public – talk to me about who I am as a person?  Why do they have to bring up the birthmark?  Why not just ask me how my day is going?  About my favorite hobby, or summer plans?  I’m a person – just like them…A person who has so much more depth than the color of her patch of purple skin.  Why do they forget that?”

Even though I don’t think she meant any harm, and overall I feel like I’m a confident person, my concern is – what if the next person this happens to isn’t??  What if they struggle 1,000 times more than I do??  How will it affect their already struggling confidence level?

When I walk into a hospital, I expect to feel safe when talking with hospital employees.  I should feel comfortable.  Employees in a hospital, or even dental setting, should expect “different” people to walk through the door…and while they can wonder if my facial difference is a hematoma or a reaction to medication, they shouldn’t assume that when they address it.  Instead, they should ask, “Is that a hematoma?”  Or, “Do you mind if I ask what causes your face to have a purplish look?” 

Oh, but hey - here’s where the positive part comes in!

While I was still in the hospital, my mom called a hospital manager and made a complaint about the nurses.  She was not my nurse for any more of my time there, and the manager was extremely disappointed about how things took place with her.  While talking with the manager, my mom then casually mentioned, “I’m sure that once my daughter feels better, if you’d like, she’d be more than happy to come and talk with your staff and do a sensitivity training.” 

He was thrilled at the idea and told her he would mention it to his boss.  He liked the idea a lot, but had to receive permission needed to allow me to do this. 

When I told a nurse I really liked about the possibility of doing a sensitivity training, she told me with encouragement, “If you do this and I hear about it – I will be the first one to sign up to attend.”

The same idea was mentioned to another manager in charge of the lab department, and she too is asking for the permission needed for me to come to her department to share about my experiences, about sensitivity, and my patient insight. (I do have to make a note - when talked with the manager of the lab, I did let them know that I don't think their employee meant any harm.  I also pointed out that she also probably didm' realized how what she said could come across - and did come across - and that she spoke with kindness…However, I still believe it was still unprofessional.)

Not only did we have phone conversations with these two managers, but I also had an in-person meeting with a third manager who is also in charge of the hospital department. 

She felt horrible about the whole experience.  The birthmark portion, but also the negative parts unrelated to my birthmark.  She also asked me an unexpected question.

The manager asked me if I would be willing to participate in a hospital committee that consists of hospital leadership, doctors, and a few patients.  She wants me to share my stories with them, and feels that with my age and unique situation, I’d be a value to their committee.  She told me, “I love listening to you talk!  You are inspiring.”

I still have to be voted into their committee and have a background check, but even the possibility of being added in and possibly making a difference excites me.

Many people ask me what hospital all my experiences take place at.  Truthfully?  I know that doesn’t matter.  I hear stories from other people with similar experiences from across the country and world.  These things can happen anywhere, and everywhere – and they do.  And my goal is not to put any hospital down in any way, because I know that won’t accomplish anything.  That wouldn’t be a very impactful strategy while trying to help make a positive change.

These experiences aren’t my first like this in a hospital setting.  For years I’ve been ignoring people’s comments and remarks, choosing not to speak up.

I’ve finally hit that age and point where I’ve decided, “It’s time to take off the ‘I’m frustrated’ hat and time to change it in for a, ‘I’m going to do something about this’ hat instead.”  Within the last year alone, I've had four negative experiences in the same hospital.  (Please read It's Just a Birthmark! for the other stories.)  The thing is – I finally realized that I can make a difference.  I can make an impact.  My voice, my story, can be heard if I just speak up.  Maybe my personal attempt at change will be small, but overtime, maybe a bigger change can be made just by my tiny attempt and step.

When, and if, I really get to go and speak to all the nurses and to the different committees and departments of the hospital, I know that I’m not just raising my own voice.  I’m a representative for everyone who has ever had similar, unnecessary, experiences.  By finally speaking up, hopefully I can make a big enough difference for at least one person…One person who may not get the same negative treatment, just because I am speaking up.

I think this is a reminder from God that He has so many special, and unexpected, plans for my life.  His dreams for me are bigger than my own.  Had you told me two years ago that God would be opening these doors I never knew were possible, I don’t know if I would have believed you.

I’m excited to see where this goes, as even the most ugly situations can become the most beautiful.

The Travelin’ Chick,

Crystal

PS: For those of you who remember that I was hospitalized in Norway back in the summer of 2012, my doctors told me that more than likely, it was my gallbladder giving me problems then too.  Mystery solved??  (You can read Beautiful Norway on that story.  It's much shorter than this entry.)