| I had no idea how bad my illness actually was, or could have been. Le Mierre's syndrome, untreated, is fatal. Fatal didn't even occur to me as an option, anyways, I was being treated, I'd have to get better, right? Well apparently it's still a 4-11% chance that with treatment it doesn't get better. The thing that scared me the most was when my mom asked, a few days after I got out of the hospital, "Do you know how close you were?" No, no, I had no idea. I knew I felt horrible, but the only way to go was better. At one point I remember thinking I wasn't in a hospital bed, but sleeping in a hand, the hand of God. I knew there were so many prayers for me, I just let them comfort me and calm me. I don't remember feeling particularly faithful or reverent but I think I've never had so much faith-in God, in medicine, in prayer.
I can't get over the fact that I could have died. Father John's sermon today was about how Easter should be a changing moment in your life, and this one definitely was. I feel like I'm experiencing a rebirth. I always had this theory that I'd die before I graduated or turned 18, and now I kind of feel like, God could have done that, but didn't. So I must be here for a reason, and I've got a chance to do something. I am so grateful for my life, for my family, for my friends, for all the prayers aimed at me...
Life's different. Now, I am used to shots and syringes and routines. To blood backing up and itchy dressings, to taking my temperature and rating my pain. To having to say, no, guys, I need to go home even though its only 10:30. And now when I get a headache, my whole family drops everything to drive to the ER. If I walk to Starbucks, my parents want to pick me up. I know to tell nurses to take my blood pressure in my leg. I know that if I start to experience "shortness of breath, sudden pain in my chest or head, or turn bluish" I'm probably having a pulmonary embolism. I can't row or play trumpet or carry a backpack. I've been sick enough that all I talk about is hospitals and no one relates. I missed three weeks of my senior year. But I have the rest of it left, and I don't plan to let shots or blood clots get in my way for having fun. |
