"It's funny how our perceptions can be so off..."

Hi everyone, it's been a while since I last blogged. As some of you may know (or not know), I made the decision to continue my education further and go to pharmacy school. And I couldn't be happier to be where I am now. I've had the most wonderful weekend spending time with my friends and being able to (hopefully) represent my school well.

I didn't have the easiest or happiest transition into pharmacy school. Leaving home and my central support system was really difficult, but I've adjusted and have gotten used to life in a city. It's been an incredibly emotional journey for me, but I am really grateful for every moment. Yes, even the less pleasant ones because they've led up to this.

The title of this post is a tribute to the medical TV show, Scrubs. The full quote (or rather the part that I love the most) goes like this: "It's funny how our perceptions can be so off, like when you're searching for a place to fit in and you don't even realize you've been there the whole time."

I always wanted to fit in everywhere I went immediately. I wanted to have friends instantly. But realistically speaking, it usually doesn't work that way. There is no shortcut to feeling like you belong or even making friends. I've had to relearn that over and over again. Even though I only started school 6 weeks ago, I feel like I'm at a point where I can say with some confidence and a very full heart that I am in the right place with the right people at the right time.

I've had moments where I falter and feel inadequate, where I wonder if I'm really in the right place for me. But I am. My school made the decision to have me just as much as I made the decision to join them. If my insecurities didn't weigh so heavily, I would have made my realization much sooner.

I wondered when I would have this feeling of belonging like Elliot did in Scrubs. I waited and hoped for it to happen. And I can't quite tell when it finally sunk in, I can't quite pinpoint the exact moment. Was it the day I met my P2 mentor? Or was it on a Friday morning while I waited for class to start and while waiting was able to talk to one of my classmates/friends? Was it right before my first pharmaceutics/biopharm exam when I opened up to a classmate/friend? Or was it last night when the girls and I had game night (and I totally won the top 300 game)? I don't know. But somewhere in between everything that has happened, I've started to feel comfortable and so I've stopped searching for a place to fit in.

We all want so much to fit in and be liked that we don't realize we're already where we should be. Feeling like you belong takes time. And as for being liked, well, what's not to like? When you feel like you're surrounded by an incredible group of individuals, maybe it's because you're not too shabby yourself.

Summer 2017

I haven't blogged since graduation so I guess I'm overdue to say something. (Also, I have two drafts of unfinished blog posts so yeah). Honestly, I don't think I have the words to describe the past couple of months beyond saying how utterly miserable I was for about 75% of the time. I don't mean to downplay the time that I have spent with friends because I really do appreciate their company and their willingness to hang out, but I've always hated summer and this summer in particular has been the most trying ever since the summer leading into my junior year of high school. This summer has gotten better as it's started to come to a close though. The weather is nice right now and I'm trying to take advantage of it before the stifling humidity and heat return by spending as much time with people and doing as many things as I can with the limited energy that I have.

This summer wasn't a completely terrible one, I'll admit that much. Earlier on in the summer, Claire and I went to a lavender farm and to the gardenfest at Belle Grove. I even spent a few hours at her house and got to meet the bottle fed baby goats. That part of summer was peaceful. I caught up with Taylor at Newtown Creamery one night, and she was kind enough to take me home from a weekend visit to see my sister. I've spent a lot of time with Emily, haha. I've stayed over a few nights and eaten yummy food and gotten ice cream more times than I ever have. I blame the ice cream habit on Laurel. (yeah, I call 'em by their first names, fight me lol) Rachel has joined us for our ice cream outings. Movie night actually happened with Cristen and Emily. I finally got to see Rogue One and it's so beautiful and devastating at the same time. I don't think I'll ever get over that movie, especially how perfect and saddening that ending was. Cristen and I are slated to see The Big Sick this weekend, which I'm excited for. I only ever enjoy summer as it comes to an end.

The prospect of this summer ending is a bit scary though. I'm not going back to SU in the fall and I won't even be working at my pharmacy until winter break. Dr. Bly was right about me when he said that I like being in my comfort zone. (okay, I don't call them all by their first names, but I'll get around to it someday lol) I don't like beginnings or endings very much, the middle is a good place to be. I think about my time at SU a lot and how it took me so much time to let go and fall into the person I was going to be throughout college. (it's Brett's fault if anyone was wondering, jk) I don't make friends very easily either and I find that starting fresh is always difficult. Confidence takes forever to build up. For that reason alone, I was so incredibly lucky to have gone to SU. I was timid and quiet during my freshman year. I can't help but wonder if freshman me would ever recognize senior me. SU, like every college, has its downsides, but the most wonderful thing about it is how much you end up growing as a person. I was never confident in myself until my senior year when it became apparent to me that I was capable of more than I ever gave myself credit for, but we know where that confidence has gone now. A lot of my growth as a person is, and this is going to sound super sappy, due to how much love and reassurance I was given at SU. Tough love makes you resilient. But let's be real, I was always treated with the soft kind of love rather than the tough love...usually. By mid-August, though, I'll have to reinvent myself and be comfortable with being uncomfortable for a little while until I fall into place. We'll see how that goes.

"It builds character"

I graduated from SU yesterday. What's more surprising was that I didn't cry at all yesterday. I told myself that I would feel differently from when I graduated high school. Honestly, graduating from college is so different from high school. I thought I would feel sadder when I graduated from high school, but I accepted it as it was. I was quite happy throughout graduation yesterday, despite the weather. The heartache, I realized, comes later. There is so much more emotion associated with college.

I'll go back to SU more than a few times this summer, I'm sure. (Probably tomorrow, if I'm being honest.) But it won't be the same anymore. I almost feel like a memory rather than a current existence. I'll never be a student at SU again. I'll never sit in my spot in HLSB to study or do homework or procrastinate. I'll never wander through the hallway on the third floor of HLSB to bother everyone as a student ever again. It's hard to not think of all of the things I'll never do again as a student. Even though I wanted to graduate (and have), I also didn't want to leave. I don't want to be forgotten.

There's a lot of pain and heartbreak in the buildings on campus, in the walls of those buildings, and on the sidewalks. I can still picture some of the memories clearly, I can transpose them onto the surroundings. Some of them happy, some of them not so much, but all of them make me nostalgic. For this reason alone, it'll be good for me to leave and move on. It's about time I pick up my feet and let them take me elsewhere, somewhere away from home and all of the emotion associated with home.

It's funny to think back to freshman year and how painfully awkward and quiet I used to be. I used to think I would never make any friends. And then something beautiful happened and I made friends. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, I didn't get to keep all of them. Time, distance, and different perspectives can really make or break a friendship. I also made mistakes too, and those mistakes costed me a few very precious friendships that I had assumed I would have forever. Do I regret it? Of course, I always will regret that there were people I lost because of my own actions. But some lessons take some hurting to learn from them. And now, I treasure the friends that I have been able to keep all the more. No matter what happens from here on out, I'll remember everyone I held dear at Shenandoah. Memories last for as long as you choose to remember them and I choose to keep all of the ones that I can, no matter how wonderful or awful they may have been.

Thank you to everyone who has been a part of my journey at SU, especially my family, my friends (those that I've made along the way and those who have been there from before), the professors of the biology department, the professors of the chemistry department, the one man physics department, the best general education professors one could ever have, Tracy, and so many others. And thank you to God, my family, my donor family, and my donor, without whom I would not have had the opportunity to make it this far.

Thank you, SU, for loving me so well despite me being a mess.

So, what's next? Summer. Work. A microeconomics class, much to my discontent. Hopefully lots of reading. Lots of Netflix, of course. Some SU visiting. Hanging out with friends. Spending time with family.

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The title of this blog post is the most annoying and cringeworthy catchphrase I heard over the past four years at SU. Thanks, Dr. Kite.

"It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms"

Happy fifth heartiversary to me! (Or as Dr. Kite referred to it yesterday-"have a heart day.") It's hard to believe that it's been five years since I received my heart. I owe my very existence today to my donor family. Without their difficult decision, it's hard to say whether or not I'd be here today. Of course, I also have to thank the wonderful cardiology team, nurses, and other medical personnel I had at Johns Hopkins-specifically Dr. Scheel, Peggy, Kyle, Mike, Verna, and Dawn. I hold a lifetime of gratitude towards my family for their love, prayers, and patience. To the friends I held dear at the time, I thank you as well for your love. And finally, thank God.

It's strange to try to look back and recall the way things were five years ago. I don't have the best of memories for all the obvious reasons-people tend not to remember traumatic events. I was looking through my main email account yesterday and it's like I was reading about someone I didn't know. Rapid-ish weight loss, an inability to eat without feeling the need to throw, an inability to take medication because of that. All of those awful things among many others. Who was that person? I guess it sometimes surprises me that I was dying at 16. I have the scars to prove survival. Six scars in total. The biggest scar running down the center of my chest, also the same one that makes me cry from time to time when I become really aware of it. I wouldn't wish the way I felt or what I went through five years ago on anyone because it's scary, it's heartbreaking, it's traumatizing, it's everything that so many people are afraid of.

As a heart transplant recipient, life can be really hard. It's not easy to accept that your continued existence is because of someone else's loss. I have ugly days where I feel guilty for still being here. I feel guilty that my donor isn't here but I am. And I feel that guilt because I am unsure of whether or not I deserve my place in the world. And all of that makes me feel sad because even though I never knew my donor (and never would be able to), I know she wouldn't want me to ever feel guilty. I keep realizing time and again that I've been very well loved. And with all that love from so many people, feeling guilty becomes so silly. I am so loved, even on the days where I can't see it clearly. I am so loved. Thank you for loving me on days when I could not find it in me to love myself.

Between this heartiversary and last year's, I got my driver's license, survived a summer of constant research and work, and presented at a research conference. I have a bit of a headache right now so I can't think of any other things to add, but I'd say that's not too shabby. I am incredibly grateful to still be here on this Earth. To live and love people for another day, another month, another year. It's wonderful. 

Here's to my fifth heartiversary and hopefully many decades to come!

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To my heart sister, Millie-our Dragonfly family misses you. It won't be the same without you when all of us get back together. But we will honor your memory by being there for each other and holding our own against whatever obstacles we may face. Love you always and forever. Rest peacefully, friend.

"I watched the world go round and round and see mine turning upside down"

Hello, friends. The word 'hello' looks weird to me today. It's been a long while since you've heard from me. I'll be back again shortly after this post to commemorate my five year transplant anniversary, but until then I'll leave you with how I've been.

I can't describe the past few weeks, or maybe month, as anything less than physically, emotionally, and mentally draining. In short, I've been something of a mess and it's starting to show in my academic performance and my general appearance and mood. I guess fall break couldn't come at a more appropriate time for me. I hope I can recompose myself to a better version of myself.

Happiness has been in and out of my reaches lately. And it's been a little lonely as far as my social life goes. I don't have much of one anymore--everyone is too busy, I feel really out of place and disconnected, and I'm too tired to do anything. I spend much of my free time with my professors and with a few friendly familiar faces in HLSB and that's about it. I guess that makes me kind of lame, but I take what kindness, humor, and love I can get.

I took my modern physics midterm exam today...or at least semi-tried to. I feel bad for Dr. Bly because he has to try to make sense out of my nonsense. You might be thinking that I'm being too hard on myself, but I promise that I'm not. All of my answers were complete rubbish. I wasn't prepared enough and it's obvious that I didn't learn anything in the past several weeks even though I should have. But I guess that's the price you pay when you jump off a cliff and try to build your wings on the way down. The worst part is how anxious I've been leading up to this midterm and knowing that it's not going to be okay. I used to think that any one of my chemistry classes was my match, but I was wrong. I've met my match and it's irrefutably physics and always will be. Dark, complicated, beautiful physics.

I'm still nowhere close to figuring out what to do after graduation. A lot of people tell me that it's okay, but that's hard to believe. I'm 21 and I don't have a clue. I used to think that I'd be that type of person who just goes to school for the rest of their life, but I'm not sure I could survive that much schooling.

Yesterday, I asked Dr. Haubrick why everyone believes in me except for me and she told me something along the lines of this: "Fawzia's biggest critic is Fawzia." I told Dr. Cantwell today that I think people overestimate me and she basically told me that they (the professors) are right in the way they perceive me, meaning that it's time for me to change the way I think of myself. I want to believe them so badly, but I just can't get my brain on board. And I really can't get it on board after that physics midterm. That's just not going to happen. I've become really great at disappointing lately.

I've been listening to Genesis a lot lately and went through a brief phase of listening to Sting and The Police. I think it's been helping to keep me in check...either that or it's been contributing to my overall gloominess. And I can't tell which it is today because today has been rough.

Sorry 'bout that. I sound too negative, I know. I know it doesn't sound like I am trying, but I am. I am trying. I'm just tired. Forgive me for the stream of negativity that has become this blog post. I'm just tired.

to be deleted some day

To my first love,

I’m glad that I loved you so strongly once upon a time, but even more grateful that we are still friends. I still love you, but time and distance have made the intensity of the love I felt for you back then less intense. I wanted to tell you about my feelings back then, but I didn’t want to destroy our friendship. I fear that a confession would most assuredly have had dire consequences and I was unwilling to lose you as a dear friend. But I’m pretty sure you knew how I felt from the hugs and how much I wanted to hold your hand and be close to you.

Your way of thinking and existing was fresh and new to me. I had never met anyone with a mind like yours. I learned so much from you. Knowing you made me a more informed person. Loving you made me softer and happier at heart. I still wonder from time to time whether or not you cared as much about me as I did you. I’ve always known that the answer was and still is no. I wanted to impact you as much as you impacted me, but I failed miserably. I’m sorry that I was never able to return the favor.

Please know that I’m not ashamed to have loved you back then, only worried that you wouldn’t want to be friends anymore, which is why I never said anything. I couldn’t have had a better first love. If by some chance you happen upon this note on my blog, promise me that you will place these words into the appropriate context—that is to say that these words, these feelings belong to a time in which I will not go back to out of respect for myself and for you.

Thank you for letting me love you back then and now.

"When there is an organ donor, life springs from death"

Happy fourth heartiversary to me! I make it a point to try to write a blog post for each year that passes and this time I'm not looking back at the old posts for any so-called inspiration. I'm on fall break right now so it means that I have time to be able to reflect and write, but doing both of those things hasn't become any easier considering the subject at hand.

It's a little morbid to lead off with, but I vaguely remember hearing from one of my cousins a few years ago that I looked like I was dying during the time when I was waiting for a heart, or something to that effect. To clarify, one of my cousins was relaying that comment from one of our other cousins so it wasn't something that I heard directly while I was waiting. And, well, it was true. I was dying. I can't look back and say that I wasn't. I couldn't even eat food without feeling an overwhelming urge to throw up. But then most amazing thing happened.

I'll never forget that day. October 19th, 2011, Dr. Scheel dropped by my room. I remember saying something along the lines of this to her: "So, are you here to tell me that there's a heart?" And then the twist came when she said yes. And then I asked her again because I didn't believe her. After she left, I cried and hugged my favorite nurse, Kyle, who just so happened to be taking care of me that day. He told me that he was so happy for me. And because of what happened that day, a 16 year old junior in high school didn't die. A daughter, a little sister, a niece, a cousin, didn't die. I didn't die. By the grace of God, my organ donor and her family, and the incredible transplant team at Hopkins, I lived. Not survived, but lived. I suppose it should be living rather than lived though. Surviving and living, although synonymous, are two different things. And I will be forever grateful.

I don't express my gratitude nearly enough as I should because life returned to what we'll call normal, but I am grateful. I've had my fair share of days where I really do want to give up, but there's always one thing that anchors me above all else (besides religion, family, and friends) and that's my donor. To this day, I don't know anything about her. But I hope that will change in the future when I reach out to her family once more. If anything at all, I just want to say thank you in person to her loved ones because their decision matters just as much as her choice to become an organ donor did.

To everyone who has helped me reach this day in my life, thank you and I love you. Here's to four years and decades more to come!