October 19......huge stepping stone
Last year on October 19, 2012 I was released from the hospital. It was the ending to a four month long nightmare. Or so I thought.
I was so weak I had to crawl up the stairs to my house on my hands and knees like a baby. Weak was something I had never been. I had just successfully waged a war with death. How could I let any weakness into my life.
I learned though that I could no longer do things on my own, I needed help. I needed help physically, mentally, and personally.
The next year was a precious year. Experiencing so many firsts over again. Relearning simple things, to trying to regain stamina.
I started out in a wheelchair, moved on to a walker, took advantage of scooters, bought a pair of running shoes, and started walking. A very slow drawn out process.
Then there was the therapy. I attended cognitive therapy, neuro-physical therapy, and cardiac rehab.
I went to Calgary for S-ICD interrogations and to see my cardiologist EP. Also for numerous genetic counselling appointments.
I waged a war on rage. On anger, on injustice.
I loved my kids, hugs and kisses galore. Remembering them at 6 & 9 is stark difference from the 9 & 12 they were. I often feel like they have advanced beyond my parenting experience. I feel like I have never parented a 9,10,11 yo.
I tried to remake connections to my husband. 25 years worth of history with this man. But the man I remember is so different than the man beside me now.
I found people that I didn't know we're my friends and I lost people I thought were my friends. There has never been a rhyme or reason figured out by me for this. Why do some people step forward and show kindness that were only on your fringe of acquaintance? Why do some people turn their backs and run like cowards not even looking back? It's a huge mystery to me.
This past year has been a year of growth, a year of reflection, a year of learning, a year of pain, a year of introspection, a year of frustration. But dang it all it's been MY year.
I was so weak I had to crawl up the stairs to my house on my hands and knees like a baby. Weak was something I had never been. I had just successfully waged a war with death. How could I let any weakness into my life.
I learned though that I could no longer do things on my own, I needed help. I needed help physically, mentally, and personally.
The next year was a precious year. Experiencing so many firsts over again. Relearning simple things, to trying to regain stamina.
I started out in a wheelchair, moved on to a walker, took advantage of scooters, bought a pair of running shoes, and started walking. A very slow drawn out process.
Then there was the therapy. I attended cognitive therapy, neuro-physical therapy, and cardiac rehab.
I went to Calgary for S-ICD interrogations and to see my cardiologist EP. Also for numerous genetic counselling appointments.
I waged a war on rage. On anger, on injustice.
I loved my kids, hugs and kisses galore. Remembering them at 6 & 9 is stark difference from the 9 & 12 they were. I often feel like they have advanced beyond my parenting experience. I feel like I have never parented a 9,10,11 yo.
I tried to remake connections to my husband. 25 years worth of history with this man. But the man I remember is so different than the man beside me now.
I found people that I didn't know we're my friends and I lost people I thought were my friends. There has never been a rhyme or reason figured out by me for this. Why do some people step forward and show kindness that were only on your fringe of acquaintance? Why do some people turn their backs and run like cowards not even looking back? It's a huge mystery to me.
This past year has been a year of growth, a year of reflection, a year of learning, a year of pain, a year of introspection, a year of frustration. But dang it all it's been MY year.
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