Saturday, June 20, 2015

wrapping up the past

Finally, I started writing the cardiologists that gave up on me 2.5 years ago.

I am on page 5.
It is only a draft but...

How do you say "f-ck you" for leaving me for dead?

I also started writing a (thank you) letter to my blue-eyed Britt surgeon. My contact lenses are a little fuzzy (from the wet-eyes).

How do you say "thank you" for giving me life?

Saturday, June 13, 2015

another piece of 'bling' for the wall

This morning I completed a 3k "race". Of course, as you know, I'm a walker. I don't run, can't run and shouldn't run. This race is really no big deal. I came in last, as usual for smaller races. (I like the huge races because I'm never last.) I can't wait for Toronto this fall. I need a medal from the city that fixed my broken heart.
Back to today.
I've been coming off my first post-surgical cold/flu. It's my first in about 3 years because, thankfully, people have been very cautious around me due to my health conditions. Well this one hit and because I had pneumonia, heart failure, pleural effusions in the hospital, my lungs are more so susceptible to prolonged infection. Though I'm no longer feverish or bed-bound I'm still coughing up a lung, or a sternum as it really feels. Last night I got maybe 3 hours sleep, in two sections. I couldn't get to sleep until at least 1:30 (due to coughing) and woke up just after 3. I was awake coughing up phlegm (TMI I know) until about 5 when I fell back to sleep for another hour and a half.
Upon waking I really thought I wouldn't be completing this 3k after all. I went anyway as my dearest was doing the 5k. For the first 300 meters I thought to myself: "leave. What are you doing here anyway, you proved you could do this one last year. Go home." As anyone who's done a course (walk or run) knows there's that yuck part where you want to quit because you're not even half way. Then, if you allow yourself to get past that, there's a "sweet spot" where, though you're not at all close to finishing, you're about half way and your strength comes out. A little voice of a marathoner friend of mine said to me (as she is known for saying) "getting to the start line is half the battle". Yup. Ok, so I'm past the start line. I really wanted to leave - the bling wasn't worth it as I have bling from this particular race already. In that sweet spot I thought back to my first few steps in ICU, how hard it was to walk out the room and how I thought I'd never be able to stand up straight again. The horrible visions I had in the ICU (anaesthesia induced hallucinations) came back to me. It pushed me further.
Eventually I made it to the finish line and it was so nice to see my dearest there.
So much, so and death stuff has occurred in such a short span of my life. I visited work yesterday. Things have changed, but many things have still remained the same.
It's almost like none of this trauma, none of this dying ever happened. Almost.

PS- Not only did I finish, I beat last year's time by a full 6 minutes and 20 seconds all still walking.