Some writing

I've been going through my portfolio of writings and figured I'd start posting some since they are all just sitting there, unread. Since I'm feeling a little blue this morning and in some pain, I'm going to go back to a few years ago when I wrote a special bit for my anniversary. The anniversary of my big surgery. (I posted this in the Bristol Press to share with all those that helped me on my path to recovery.

Reflections one year after my surgery

One year, 12 months, 365 days. It was some time ago, however it feels just like yesterday. A heartbeat ago, I could not walk up the stairs without stopping halfway up to catch my breath. It seems like I was just preparing myself for what could have been death. One year ago, I said good bye to all those I loved and got on a plane. I was in God’s hands now.

When the doctor’s told me that I was lucky to be alive, I did not know how to react. Should I be grateful for my second chance or should I feel guilty for those who weren’t lucky enough? All torn up inside, I felt the pain in my lungs and the pain in my heart. People were so kind. Never in my life have I received such warmth and tenderness from family, friends, and strangers. They were all pulling for me to make it. But the more they prayed for me and shared their thoughts with me, the more anxious and angry I became. They asked how I felt. How can I tell someone that I have such horrific pains in my lungs, like a constant stabbing that never ends every time I breathe? How can I share with someone how much it hurts when I can’t walk around my college campus and have to get a special parking permit and how ashamed that felt? How can I look these people in the eyes and be honest without making them feel horrible knowing they are supporting me?

I stopped wanting to see people but when I had to, I said I was fine, made jokes and made the visit as quick as possible. I was extremely grateful for everyone’s care and concern but I couldn’t face revisiting my pain every time I saw someone. I look back at my life one year ago and I can’t help but cry. I was in such rough shape, not only health wise, but emotionally as well. As a 23 year old with massive blood clots in her lungs and facing a ten hour open-heart surgery across the country, most people thought I was being so strong. I put on a good front, but I was scared to death.

I left Bristol for my surgery and had said my good byes just in case I might never be back. I prepared myself for the worst, knowing it wasn’t impossible. One year ago, I was faced with the possibility of death and the thoughts of never getting married, having children or growing old.

I was lucky. I was in the thoughts and prayers of so many people and under the watch of the best doctors and nurses. I made it and I’m able to look back now, one year later and reflect on the biggest obstacle I have faced so far in my life. I was afraid, I was in pain, and I had my doubts of what was to become of me.

One year later, there is light at the end of the tunnel. I have struck it rich. I have life and that makes me the richest person. I have found a man that makes me happy and we will marry in May. I have found a job that I love as an Event Manager. I may look back at my life a year ago and I know things were tough. I may look at my life a year later and I know things are better. I may still have some pain in my chest and it may be there for the rest of my life, but I have a life and that’s all that matters. They say I’m healthy, my lungs are much better, but I won’t be able to run marathons, so I’m making it my mission to prove them wrong.

This story is dedicated to my Mom, Grandma, Auntie Dale, and Auntie Barbara.