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February 14th, 2020

I’m lying in bed looking up at my funky light fixture with the sun streaming through the crack in my black out curtains and I’m trying to breathe. I can’t seem to expand my torso. I can only inhale for 2 seconds and it gets cut. I have to get up, I’m going to be late.

In the bathroom, getting ready is the first time I noticed I was crying. I’m trying to rinse my face and I notice my hands are shaking. So annoying! I’m going to be late! “Get it together Laura. People think I’m strong. I need to be strong. You can’t disappoint them”! These thoughts just make me cry more. “I have to do this. I have to go so I can stay alive”. I put my fear aside for just a moment and finally rinse my face. Practice a smile in the mirror because I know my sister might see me when I leave the bathroom. I can’t let anyone see me like this. I am strong.

We’re here. It’s a beautiful sunny winter day. It’s always the most beautiful day on my hardest days. It makes me feel supported. It makes me feel like someone is saying “I got you, you’ll be ok, here is some sunshine”.

Valentine’s Day is also National Organ Donor Day.

The place is covered in hearts. It’s a heart hospital. It’s also Valentine’s Day. I’m glad no one has said anything annoying to me about my heart today and it being Valentine’s Day. “Getting your heart checked on heart day”! This is something I see other heart veterans say online. I’m glad it makes them happy. It doesn’t work for me. I just want to be a normal kid. I just want to go home. 

They’ve changed everything in 18 years. It’s even changed in 6 months. I don’t recognize it. I find this hard. I feel like I can never go back to the places I used to feel comfortable in this place. I feel like I will never be able to heal. At least some of the people are the same. They’re nice. I’m being nice back. I feel proud of this moment. I realize I’m smiling. I can do this. 

I’m not late. In my mind I’m on time. They want you to be 15 minutes early. I don’t understand why. They make you wait anyway. Do they not understand what it took me to get here? I’m giving them so much today, they don’t get the extra 15 minutes from me. I’m 32 though, I need to grow up, don’t I? I need to get it together. I need to be an adult. But every time I come here, I become the 13-year-old girl, physically shaking, wanting to go home. Never wanting to come back. 

My dad is with me. He drove and we came in my car. I love my car. I love what I accomplished to get it. I have to do 5 tests today. I’ll be out of here by 2. Then there’s all day breakfast. All day breakfast and a beautiful sunny day. The first one is at 8:30. It’s 8:53 and I’m still waiting. That’s ok. The next one is at 11:30 and the other 3 are walk-in style. I’ll do them in between. I’ll be out of here by 2. The hardest one is last. It’s the most painful. And then I will get to eat. I’m going to get pancakes and coffee. Can’t think about food now. I’m fasting. I’m starving. I’m still trying not to cry. I’m still strong…right?

Even the doors aren’t in the same place. 8:43 a.m.

I heard my name on the speaker. I’m in the wrong place. Why do they have to change everything? The volunteer tells me where to go. The basement. That’s where the ICU was. I spent some time there. The elevators doors open on “S” and there’s a gentleman waiting for me with a smile. A smile! But I’m late. I don’t deserve a smile. He’s so nice.

“When was the surgery?” he asked as he got ready for the echo test. “2001”. “Two thousaaaand one?” He was trying to make sure he heard me right. “Yeah” I smile. He seems impressed. I’m neat. I impress people. It’s because I’m strong. Today’s going to be ok. “I was still in China in 2001”. “Oh yeah”? I like stories. “I was a cardiologist there”. “That’s awesome” I think to myself. I’ve known this guy for 3 minutes and I like him. I would let him be my doctor. “In China, I saw many young people like you. They didn’t survive”. “Oh wow”. Holy shit, I’ve been working so hard and now this is going to make me cry. That’s awful. “I’m pretty lucky” I say it before he can. But, for some reason I don’t think he would have said it. He’s too nice. I’d still let him be my doctor. With a big smile, he said “yes”. Now I’m really trying not to cry. I can’t mess up the test. 

The cold gel touches my skin and I leave the room. In my head it’s over 18 years ago and I’m standing in front of my friend Matthew. He’s 7 years older. He’s got the biggest smile, he’s with his mom just like me, and waiting for a new heart, just like me. “Don’t worry” he said “echos are easy! You just gotta lie there! You can even take a nap”! he said always smiling. “Yeah but you don’t have boobs” I obviously don’t say this out loud. I never said anything. I can’t wait to see him again. He’s the first person I want to talk to in heaven. 

Time for blood tests.
9:38 a.m.

Another waiting room. Another numbered ticket to show I’m in line. This test is walk-in. Wow they already called me. I sit in the chair and answer all the questions that are clearly about the coronavirus. Leah walks in. “Leah!” I think in my head. She looks at me. She knows it’s me and I know it’s her. We smile at each other. Big knowing smiles. “Julie!” she says, talking to the phlebotomist. “How are ya feeling today? Feeling good? Feeling like you can poke me properly”? She had grabbed a numbered ticket for herself. lol she’s trying to make me smile like she did over 18 years ago when she was my nurse. It works. If I had known laughing could make blood tests completely painless, I would have still not have been able to ever do it before today. Thank you, Leah. Maybe I’m finally healing. Maybe it’ll get better. But I haven’t done the hard test yet. We’ll see.

ECG room.
10:05 a.m.

ECG and chest X-ray done. They’re some of the easiest if you’re ok with being half naked and touched all over. I’m not ok with it. They try to be respectful, but the test doesn’t really allow for it. I appreciate their attempts. “2001! That was a long time ago”! “Yeah” I say as kindly as possible. I don’t want to seem mean. I want to seem grateful because I am. I’m ok. Today is just hard. “And everything is good”? “Yeah” I nod and can actually smile for this one. I’m the one that gets to walk out. I get to be ok. I get to eat pancakes with my dad. I breathe as normally as possible. I don’t want to mess up the tests. These are the easy ones. It’s only 10:30. I have to wait an hour to start the period of waiting that they make you do even though your test is scheduled. I’m drained, hungry, allowing myself to be comforted by my future pancakes but trying not to think about them because I’m so hungry. It’ll be here before I know it. 

I just spotted a young guy here. His name was just called. His face looks the way I imagine my face has looked when I’m here. His name is Juan. I wonder if Juan knows he’s going to be ok. I don’t think he does. He should know. Someone should tell him. I really want to tell him he’s going to be ok, but he’s already disappeared through the doors. 

They take me early. It’s 10:55. “Hi Laura my name is Carl, how are you?” Seriously? What a stupid question. “Good! You?” I’m lying. I’m scared. This one is the painful one. It makes me feel like my hearts going to explode. It makes me feel like I’m going to die; the thing I have fought the hardest against in my life. 

We sit down and go through the questions. There’re many things I’m not allowed before the test. Caffeine is big because it’s the antidote. That’s what they call it. The “antidote”. They’re going to hurt me, and if I’m good, I get the antidote, so I can feel better. Carl asks me if I’ve smoked and I say no. “Never”? “Never” I respond. “Good girl” he says softly. The feminist inside me is enraged. I feel small again. I don’t react. He has a big needle. He’s going to put in an IV and I’m going to let him because then I will get to go home. I decide he’s going to be the absolute best person that’s ever put in an IV ever. He didn’t disappoint me. Good boy Carl. 

PET machine for stress test.
11:42 a.m.

I’m in the room now. It’s dark and freezing cold. I’m shivering and I’m not entirely sure if it’s because I’m scared or cold. I get on the table and Azmina hooks me up. Azmina is no bullshit. She’s my favourite one yet. It’s like she knows. She knows her speed is helping. She knows I need another hot blanket without saying it. She knows that extra moment when she had her hand in mine made a difference. 

I’m lying there and suddenly the Beatles come on. I didn’t even know they were playing music until now. “I want to hold your haaaaand, I want to hold your hand”. “Ok”! I almost said it out loud. I noticed my hands. One was closed tightly and one was open just enough. It was as if someone was already holding it. There was. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was there. I wonder if he ever had to do this test. I think it’s too new. I’ll ask him when I see him in heaven. It’ll have to wait. 

“Are you ok”? “Yeah”! I have tears rolling into my ears. It’s driving me crazy. It tickles so much. I almost laugh but I’m trying so hard not to move. I had noticed the tears. It’s not a big deal. I’m ok. The pain hasn’t started yet. “Ok Laura, I’m going to start the injection.” It’s my friend Carl again. We’re cool now. “Ok”! It’s so loud in here. I don’t know if they can hear me. I’m trying to show them I’m ok with my voice since the tears may be throwing them off. I wonder what they would do if I said I wasn’t ok. I’d probably have to stay longer. So, I need to be ok and I need to not move. 

“Laura I’m going to give you the antidote in one minute. Are you ok”? “Yeah” I’m ok Carl. My heart is racing, my cheeks are on fire, my muscles are aching, I’m running a marathon without even moving. It’s a medical stress test. I hate it. I feel pain flood into the back of my head.

“Here it comes!” ok I’m ready. I’m so ready. Go for it. “Last injection!” the antidote. It’s so weird. All the pain washes away. I can feel the heat fall away from my cheeks, my muscles relax, my breathing slows. I feel almost normal. The headache remains. It’s ok. The coffee I’m getting with my pancakes is more antidote. 

I did it! I’m so ready to leave. I almost forget that I need the IV removed. Weird, that’s never happened before. It takes me awhile to change into my clothes. I just ran a marathon. I’m somewhat lightheaded. I get the IV removed and Carl shows me a short cut out. That’s nice. It’s like he knows. he can’t do much, but he can get me out of here a little faster and he does. 

It did it again. I made it out again. I don’t have to do this for another year. The hardest part of my year is behind me. I’m so excited because I haven’t been myself for a month. I’m so excited to get reacquainted with myself. I’m so excited for others to get to see me again. I’m so excited for these pancakes. They are delicious.

“Good Morning” 1:12 p.m.

‘Twas the season of giving and holiday cheer and all through the town people were gathering near, to be close to their loved ones and hold onto them tight for this season was special with the snow sparkly white.

Not too far in a tower a young one did lie, wrapped in tubes and in wires on which she relied. Not a tear in her eye for she was as strong as an ox but her heart sank to think she was missing a lot.

Her mom sat beside her, she was never alone. Though she didn’t want this memory to be more than her own. Her sister and dad were there with her too as they gathered together, this hospital is all they knew.

She always had hope that an angel would come, someone selfless and giving would bring her freedom. No more holidays would pass full of illness and fear, all because of the gift someone would give her this year.

She didn’t know that person and she never would but by the love she received she’d reach adulthood. She’d do many things and learn a lot on her way, and she’d never forget what she received on that special day.

When renewing her health card they asked her the question and she gave them permission without hesitation. You don’t need to wait until you renew, you can go online here: blood.ca without further adieu.

While we’re wrapping presents and getting in the spirit, there are kids trapped in rooms just fighting to live through it. So during this season full of festive delight, Consider for a few minutes, giving the gift of life.

Dear Jhon,

As a kid I was incredibly shy. As a baby, my mom would take me out around people and I would cry non-stop. I never spoke in school and dreaded being called upon. Even now my body temperature rises considerably when It’s my turn to talk in a meeting or a group setting. But the funny thing is, even though I’m quiet and shy and get really nervous, one of my favourite things in the world is connecting with people.

“I’m here because of a donor <3”

Just over a year ago, in the summer of 2018, I decided to do something that some would consider out of character. It wasn’t easy. As shy as I am naturally, I’m even more shy when it comes to being a transplant recipient. So, it only makes sense that I announce it proudly by going to one of the biggest transplant events created; the transplant games.

From the time we arrived for the games in Vancouver, I was surrounded by people who were nothing like me but that I had one huge thing in common with; a turbulent life event that changed every one of us. The feeling was incomparable. I realized that it was OK to be me and to be a transplant recipient. I didn’t have to be one or the other. I could be both! I was connecting with people all over Canada and it was the best thing ever.

Mid way through the trip I messaged a videographer that was working at the games. He had reached out asking people to share their stories. I was on a roll. I thought, why not? He asked me and my family over for lunch. Not a custom we are used to. But I couldn’t help thinking, this is really cool. Yeah, I may get my whole family murdered, but this is really cool. The cool feeling won, and I messaged back “what time should we be there?”

I had no idea what to tell my family. I was so nervous to tell them. I obviously couldn’t blow off my new friend Thierry, so I kinda blurted it out. “Hey, so… I have an idea of what we could do our last day”. I had planned most of the sightseeing so far so that was the easy part. I smiled awkwardly “I may have messaged this guy, he’s local…well he’s from France but lives here… he’s interested in transplant stories…he wants us to have lunch at his place…I think it’ll be great…I feel like he won’t murder us all…probably”. I know, I really sold it. They were hesitant but said ok.

Me and Thierry

It was one of the best experiences we had the whole trip. Thierry was an amazing host. He talked to us about the culture in Vancouver. He himself had had a kidney transplant only one month before we met! He made us a delicious lunch. Turns out he had been a chef and restaurant owner. He even walked us to the Vancouver Aquarium because we had to see it. I loved meeting Thierry. My whole family thought it was one of the best experiences of the trip. We learned so much and made so many awesome memories in one afternoon.

Recently my mom and I had a similar experience. We went on a cruise to the Caribbean. Starting a new job has been super hard and this trip came at the perfect time. Early on in the trip we met Jhon (not a typo). He was as unique as his name. He worked in the buffet dining room as a server. Every time we saw him, we’d ask him how he was. Every time the answer was the same; “Never been better”.

During the trip, we learned that Jhon was new to his job. You would never have known this. We also learned that his wife and 2 year old were back home in the Philippines counting on his income. We learned that he worked 10 hours over night when we slept, and slept when we were out having a great time. Every time we saw Jhon, he’d wave and have a big smile on his face. “Today you’re in Barabados!” He seemed almost more excited than we were. “Barbados is beautiful! The water is so blue!”

Sunset in Barbados

On one of the last days of the trip Jhon told us that he was preparing himself. He told us that his little girl was turning 3 in two weeks and that he was preparing himself because he knew that his heart would be broken that day. It would be the first time he missed her birthday. He knew she was growing up and he was missing it. He was missing it because he had to. He knew what he was doing was important. His daughter’s name is Hope. He was doing this for Hope.

The next day, mom and I went up to the buffet. We see Jhon with big smile, happily waving to us as usual. Hey Jhon! We both loved seeing him every day. “How are you doing today Jhon?” He paused as he always did and with a smile on his face said, “Never been better”.

I don’t know if Jhon or Thierry will ever know how much I appreciate them, or how much they have done for me. I will never forget them. It seems like I’m braver connecting with people when I’m on vacation. That’s a start! Right? Nothing wrong with that. But there are also so many people in my daily life that make my life better and that make me better. Whether they’re a cousin I don’t know very well but who made me feel really important, or another who likes everything I create as soon as I post it, a friend at school who messages me almost every day when I’m sick to ask me how I am, another friend who always prays for me when I need it, a guy who buys me pizza which he knows always makes me feel good, my family who laugh at all my jokes (not an easy task) and who encourage everything I do, or anyone who has spent their time on me just because they wanted to. You may not know it, but you are all immensely important to me. Thank you for being you and for encouraging me to be me. ❤ ❤ ❤

“We didn’t realize we were making memories. We just knew we were having fun.” -Winnie the Pooh

It’s About Being Alive

18 years ago I had a heart transplant and I’ve been completely different and exactly the same ever since.

Easter, 8 years pre-transplant

Not sure what I mean? It’s the beauty of organ donation. We get to live on and be us. For how long? There is a lot of speculation and statistics around this that you may google if you wish but I choose not to for many reasons, one of which is this dude: David (Click his name for the article). David is 90 and had a heart transplant 35 years ago. David is awesome. I want to be like David. David was told he might only live for an additional 10 years and David said “bullocks” (David may have said this but this is not a quote from David himself nor was David at all directly involved in the crafting of this article).

Life is the same because we get to keep on living. We are limitless. Things may go wrong but that may happen whether we have had a transplant or not. I’m in a bit of a different situation than some, and many people may not know this, but I was perfectly healthy before. I needed a transplant very suddenly. My heart deteriorated very fast (it felt like a couple of weeks) and I needed a transplant with nearly no explanation as to why. My heart just died. They call it idiopathic cardiomyopathy. No statistics or speculation could have predicted it. They don’t know what happened.

Prince Edward Island, 9 months post transplant

I’m not someone who was sick my whole life and had a new zest post-transplant telling you that I am now limitless. I am someone who was healthy my whole life who suddenly needed a transplant who is telling you that I am STILL limitless. I have lost nothing. I haven’t lost years, I haven’t gained fear or any serious pain. I’m just a regular girl that gets to keep moving along, doing normal life things like dreaming of my career, my first home, the family I get to build and my future pet Pug.

I could easily sit around thinking about what life could have been like had it never happened (been there). I could easily be unhappy. I could easily worry about what could happen next (done that). I could easily worry about what people think (and that). I could easily limit myself. But I am telling you, with my 18 years of experience, that it’s a lot easier and healthier to simply live.

High School Graduation Ball, 4 years post transplant

I did not trade a disease for a condition. I traded a hospital bed for my high school diploma. I traded wires and tubes for my driver’s license. I traded a little bit of time in the hospital for the rest of my life outside of one. I traded the promise of nothing for the promise of absolutely anything.

In the last two years, I have sought out and become part of the transplant community. I have opened myself up, told my story, talked to others, met some immensely inspirational folks, and have come to realize that that’s exactly the right thing to do; live.

Cabot Trail, Nova Scotia, 12 years post transplant

I wake up every morning groggy, tired, cranky, and inaudible (I’m definitely not a morning person) but around 1 p.m. or so, when I finally wake up, I think I about my next project and how I am going to achieve it, I think about how happy I am that I can do anything I want, and now, I think of my new friend David (David does not know that we are friends) on the other side of the world, just chillin’ and thinking about what he’s going to do next.

Even though I am recipient, I could still save someone one day, just as someone saved me. To be a donor register at www.beadonor.ca

Hogsback Lockstation, 18 years post transplant

You are enough. You can save lives.

We had a booth set up at @Costco in #kanata last night. The Costco community recently lost a family member who was waiting for a compatible #organdonor. They asked us to come so that we might help prevent another #community from losing someone they love unnecessarily. Let’s do this #together.

In #Ontario 1500 people are waiting for #organtransplant. Every 3 days someone dies.

Can’t #donateblood? You can still be an organ and tissue donor. No matter what, you’re not too old, you’re not too unhealthy, you’re important exactly the way you are. Don’t think you’re good enough? You absolutely are. Join the #donornation community with me. You can save lives just by being you and by registering at beadonor.ca.

@ottawagift #beadonor #donatelife #trilliumgiftoflife #giftoflife #organandtissuedonation #organdonationsaveslives #givelife #iamadonor #endthewait

My Last Week as “Just a Receptionist”

Whenever anyone would ask me a question about myself, I would feel the need to add “just” in front of it. Someone would ask me what I do, and I would answer “I’m just a receptionist”. Someone would ask me what my program in school was “just a general arts degree”. What kind of sports do you do? “just swimming and sometimes biking”.

I never felt good enough and I didn’t understand why. Looking back, I was never seriously bullied. Sure, I heard comments, all people do. I never really let it get to me. I never really let it get to me because I was too busy bullying myself. The only one making me feel not good enough was me.

Going through what I went through as a kid really knocked me down mentally. I had to learn that it wasn’t my fault. I had to teach myself that I wasn’t weak. The disease took my heart, but it didn’t take from me what really matters.

Someone once made me realize that even though something isn’t a common accomplishment such as getting a degree, building a career, or buying your first home, doesn’t mean it’s not an accomplishment.

Everything you do for yourself, everything that you accomplish that’s important to you is an accomplishment. This person reminded me I had accomplishments. She asked me why I didn’t think learning to sail was an accomplishment. I didn’t know what to answer. I always just thought a university degree ranked and everything else I did didn’t. I was wrong.

If you biggest accomplishment today is getting dressed, doing your hair, making a healthy meal, or leaving the house, feel good about that. Everything that’s worth it is hard. You should be proud ❤

Breaking News: Today I ate vegetables #adulting
#onlytook3triestospellvegetables

What makes you feel accomplished lately? It doesn’t have to be something that we all recognize, just something that you’re proud of. Let us know. Maybe you’ll inspire someone else to feel good about themselves today.

Just because you’re not doing the same things everyone else is, doesn’t mean the stuff you are doing is less meaningful. This is the last time I will call myself « just » anything. Keep going out there and living YOUR best life! ~Laura

I wrote this post a few weeks ago to try to perk myself up. I felt like I wasn’t going anywhere fast. Even though I had just graduated and gotten a full-time permanent job. I’m 31 (Almost 32 😭) and don’t feel financially stable enough to move out. Crazily enough I was offered a position that I had applied to months before and didn’t think I was going to get. I accepted. I’m now an academic advisor and really darn proud.

In under a year I graduated, became employed, and got promoted. All major life accomplishments that 5 years ago seemed very impossible. Who wouldn’t be proud right? Just because you do something awesome doesn’t mean your old habits suddenly disappear. I caught myself almost saying « just » the other day for something entirely different. Language matters and impacts you more than you think. Just because you change a habit in one sector of your life doesn’t mean it doesn’t apply to all sectors of your life. You are not « just » anything. You are you and that’s what makes you great. In the words of the great Dr. Seuss “you are you that is truer than true, there’s no one alive who is you’re than you”!

How to kill a plant in less than 5 days

A comprehensive guide for millennials by a millennial

Monday, I walked into the office to see my brand-new plant looking pretty dead. I had just bought it on Wednesday and here it was, dead. I had killed it. I had killed it in 4 and a half days.

#plantkiller

I was immediately ashamed of my dead plant. I moved it to the other, less visible side of my desk. I wondered if anyone had seen my poor dead plant through the window on my door. OMG what would they say about me? I worried that they would know I was a plant killer. Poooooor sad little plant killer. “Mmmm mmmm” they would say, shaking their heads. “couldn’t even take care of a plant!” or worse “millennials!” I heard their non-existent judgments whirling around in my head. Then my inner voice started in. It may have been worse than the made-up stuff everyone else wasn’t really saying about me. Instead of “She can’t even take care of a plant” it became “I can’t do anything right” and “why do I bother” and my favourite millennial one “If this is #adulting, I’m out. #NOPE”.

I had taken two sick days off and then it was the weekend. Hence the 4 days of plant neglect. I always feel guilty about taking sick days and my dead plant justified all of my reasons for being guilty and feeling selfish for taking time for myself. Not only was I actually not feeling well, I had just found out my dad’s brain tumour removal surgery had been scheduled and was coming very soon. Until then it was some not-so-real thing in the not-so-soon future. Now it’s a week and a half away. It didn’t seem real and now suddenly it’s too real. It’s a lot happening at once but in my mind, taking those two days to take care of my health was selfish and something to feel guilty about. I even had a victim in front of me to prove it! Does anyone else ever feel this way? How do you manage? Do you take days off when you need to, if you can?

All these feelings felt justified because now I had murdered a poor innocent polka dot plant. A poor innocent polka dot plant that could have had a better life with someone else until I went into that plant store, plucked it from the fancy green pot it was in where it looked so happy and murdered it in four and a half days. Where does a person go from here?

All of the above thoughts went through my head very fast. Almost as fast as it took for me to see the plant and move it to its new hiding place. I guess I just wasn’t a plant person, even though I wanted to be one. I would never change.

Once I was done being about as dramatic as my dead plant looked, I remembered something the person at the store said. “The plant becomes droopy when it needs to be watered”. I told them I was new to plants and had asked for advice. At the time I didn’t know what they meant by “droopy”. The pile of death that was once my plant that was sitting in the pot seemed far beyond “droopy”, but I thought why not just see if it perks up a little. I poured in some water and tried not to pay attention to it.

“I’m not dead!”
(Monty Python and the Holy Grail)

An hour later there were signs of life! I went back to the picture I had initially taken to send to my family to let them know how quickly I had killed my plant (I like to make them proud whenever I can) and compared the picture with what I now had in front of me and there had definitely been a change. Gordon wasn’t dead!

Hour by hour Gordon came back to life. I watched her grow back up and stand tall. My inner voice was pretty disappointed that I wasn’t as much of a loser as it thought I was. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that the voice is not really me. It’s a bunch of things I’ve heard over the years but none of it is actually true. I had proven it wrong once again.

This experience has taught me a great lesson. 1. I CAN keep a plant alive for at LEAST 5 days. 2. Polka dot plants are pretty resilient (and also very dramatic). I may have also learned a little about kindness and patience.

At 4 p.m. I moved Gordon back to her rightful place on my desk and took the final photo. I sent it to my family with “#mood” because it was the end of the day and Gordon wasn’t the only one feeling a lot more perky.

“Be kind to yourself, and others, for that is the foundation of love” Brendon Burchard

“Never Give Up, Never Surrender!” (Galaxy Quest)

#millenials #nevergiveup #mentalhealth #selflove #kindness #patience #selfcare #wellness #negativeselftalk #positivevibes #beadonor #MontyPython #GalaxyQuest #polkadotplant #mood #adulting