Lasting effects…

My recovery from sceptic shock was nothing more than a miracle… there is no doubt in my mind. The doctors tried to figure out how I got so sick, and my recovery was a further testament of the miracle I endured. As it turned out, I recovered very quickly, so quickly that I was walking around the ICU…that never happens! The nurses on the ward were completely flabbergasted that for days I was near death, and a few days later I was walking around, and taking showers! They tried to transfer me to other wards, but I got so much better so fast that no other ward wanted to give me a bed. It was crazy, and I was ready to go home. After a lot of conversations, I was released right out of ICU-they had to write protocol for that to happen as it never did before.

One would think that I would be happy and ready to get on with my life, but sadly that was not the case. I went into a deep depression… thoughts started flowing in my head about how life would have been without me, and all that I almost lost overwhelmed me, and I stayed in a bed soaked with tears. The one thing I wanted at this point was to go to my sister’s wedding, which was weeks away, in Colorado… and there was no way I was not going. I figured if God spared me, he was not done with me, and I would muster the strength to make the flight, and I did. My husband bought me and my daughter business class tickets to fly over from England to be there for my sister. I was still very fragile, but being around my sisters gave me energy, and uplifted my spirit enough to be a part of the celebration. It turned out that I DJ’d her wedding and it was a magical time of healing and I really felt a surge of energy that got me through the wedding with a new vigor. I got to spend time with my aunts, my mom’s sisters, and we spent hours going down memory lane through the music I played the night before the wedding. It was perfect.

I would have hoped the joy from the Colorado trip would help me back in England, but the reality of the entire situation caught up with me and I slipped back into a depression. Of course it did not help that I got “Bird Flu” right around Christmas time and I was not really strong enough to handle that. I had to miss out of holiday festivities with my friends and family, and I was put back in bed so I did not spread the disease. I remember feeling sicker than a dog, angry at the situation, and sad that it all happened. I was diagnosed with “PTSD” from the event, and prescribed antidepressants. I kept reliving the entire event every night, so I did not want to sleep…it was a horrible realization of what “could have been” and I just could not see past it. I still met with my “Friday Morning” ladies for fellowship and friendship, but that was about it. I did not care what I looked like, did not want to shower, let alone entertaining conversations, but they helped me get through the darkness, and reminded me of the beautiful life that I had ahead of me. You would think that being saved from an early death would inspire me to life a happier life, but I just could not get passed what might have been.

It took me months to get back to me, and it took a lot of prayer and support to help me regain my place in this world. The kids were just happy to have me home, but they did not understand my sadness and I did not really understand it either! “Why am I being this way?? I lived through such a tragic event, and came out virtually ‘healthy’ enough to walk out of the Intensive Care Unit, only to cry and lock myself in my bedroom!” So many emotions flowed through me like waves in a hurricane, and I was buried under the waves, with no sight of the horizon…so I had to change my perspective…I just had to find some inner strength to pull me through, and that is what I finally did. Slowly I started re-engaging in my world, and started to see the light at the end of the storm. I made myself get out of the house to meet friends, went back to church, and spent more time downstairs away from my bed. It was so hard to do, and it took me a long time, but finally I was able to ween off the antidepressants, and wound up back in my role of life.

I can’t stress enough how much tragic events cut deep…so deep that the lasting effects can linger for as long as you let them. People deal with tragedy all the time, and I for one can surely understand how a person can just wallow in their grief…it’s real people. I am still learning how to turn the emotional baggage I carry into a positive by reassuring myself that I belong here, I was saved, and I need to live-no…thrive! Of all the tragic events I had endured (so far) on this planet, nothing hit me harder than staring down death…meeting it head-on, and talking about it on the other side. I sometimes tell myself to “just get over it already!” but it’s easier said than done. The struggle is real, and those of us who deal with such events need help.

Life isn’t easy…we all know that, but it’s how you deal with such events that creates the beauty that is humanity. I wish we all could realize how precious our life is, and live accordingly, but that is not the case. How do we deal with forgiveness when the “issue” that needs forgiving is not something that is tangible to forgive?? When I figure that one out, I’ll let you know…but until then, I just keep waking up every day thankful that I get more time with those who love me, and that I love…and to hell with the rest of it…but that is just me.

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