Inductive
where do i begin? what do i even say? today, october 16th one year ago this whole entire journey began. ONE year. it feels like a movie, like all of this couldn’t possibly happen within one year! it is so hard to comprehend, so hard to process it all. i am overwhelmed. not to mention that i have been in pain all day long. getting off the roids is an absolute mess.
when i look at what’s happened over the past year, there is good and bad:
a lot fell apart, there was a lot of sorrow and times of being terrified to the core, a lot of relationships that were tested and couldn’t stand this real-life test, and eventually dissolved. you learn a lot about people. a lot of the people i expected to be there for me just weren’t capable of doing so on some very basic levels. not their fault, but i have a lot of sadness about a lot of things. there’s balancing family and friends, and trying to be a 26-year-old. i see the world differently and it’s changed my life completely. of course, there were great feelings as well: learning each piece of good news as I recovered showed me how incredibly amazing our bodies are, and pointed to what’s truly important in life. i introduced a new thought to my once-hurried days “what do i want to spend my precious time on?” i appreciate every single moment now. every breath; every morning i wake up, i say a big thank you. i’m not sure who i am thanking exactly, but i say it.
i have also gotten to see a very genuine caring side of people at times —people who weren’t even necessarily family or close to me before this, but felt so compelled to give me support just “because” and i am forever grateful. of course, the fundrager was something i will never forget and it makes me smile during the bad times.
i am conscious of my body and what i say and do, and i found that i have an incredible, inextinguishable will to live. i want to live live live! i want to feel and know and learn and do. i have to. to know this about yourself is a true awakening, and suddenly the blue sky seems much more blue than ever before and you’re closing your eyes to remember how things really actually taste (like i’ve never tasted chocolate before!) —or even watching those you love, really observing their manorisms like it’s the first time you’re seeing this person. it’s a vision. i close my eyes and savor so much. the thing is, you never know when you’re gonna lose it.
coincidentally, i was cleaning out my phone last week and came across an IM conversation with my man from this very day. my phone saves ongoing convos with the same person. strange, because i rarely use IM but i guess it was the best way to communicate at the time —when i could barely move. by this point last year, i had already stopped working, i couldn’t anymore: i did not feel well and couldn’t get around without fainting, and i had spent the day trying to make some extra dough while helping out a friend:
me “You there? I’m on my phone”
T “Hi”
me “Hi Babes, I had to leave early from Jeff’s cuz I was feeling so sick. I came home and I’m feeling worse, it’s scary.”
T “where are you? What can I do to help you??”
me “In bed , it’s the weirdest feeling. Like, zero energy . Was supposed to head to Queens soon but I can’t. “
me “Remember when i felt like this in July? It’s like that but worse” “This can’t keep happening to me every couple of months. What is going on?”
T “yea I remember. Shit I wish i could help you”
Cut to three hours later. He came home to find me in the very same position. We attempted to watch a movie but at this point my chest was really hurting. I thought I had bronchitis, I couldn’t breathe. I could barely dress myself to get to the ER. We decided to go to Lenox Hill since we know a doc there that was working. Hours in the ER and it’s almost morning again. Everything seemed ok. The doc had a hunch though, something wasn’t right on my EKG. He decided to order one more test, an echo (like a sonogram of your heart), and I told T to go home and try to sleep before work —it wasn’t going to show anything. He went home and i waited for the test. Well, the person who administered the test did so, looked at me funny, asked me if i felt faint all the time, and if i was having trouble breathing. then he left the room to get the doctor. this can’t be good. they came in and explained that my heart was pumping at 15%. that’s 1-5. normal is 50-65%. they went into intensive care mode and moved me to a special area of the ER, put oxygen on me, and hooked me up to a heart monitor. one nurse was assigned to me and I called T, who was just getting to sleep and told him he had to come back up, and don’t be scared but I have an oxygen mask on and oh, by the way my heart is failing. He was back in a flash, and since then I have seen him try and get comfortable sleep while sitting upright in a hospital chair way too many times in one life. (it breaks my heart).
From that point on this blog has been my “safe place” to vent. I come here and type my fears and frustrations and anger onto the screen. the rest is documented history right here! i’ve written about every procedure and doctor visit since January (from October through December I didn’t do anything; it was the darkest, hardest time of my life and I thought I was going to die twice. I was carried to and from the bathroom, i needed help showering, it was the lowest of the low). I am deeply positive and I know I will keep getting better so I come here to spread my positivity as well as my information. So, thanks for reading this. In some way anyone who is reading this is contributing to my getting better. I know you’re sending me good vibes…
Tonight I will celebrate LIFE.
3 years ago • Notes