Six Years

I have an anniversary coming up. It’s not a happy one that I celebrate. It’s a sober reminder of how much my life has changed. Six years ago, I fell ill with an unknown disease. I missed a long anticipated family trip because I was hospitalized. I had three surgeries within 3 weeks. I spent weeks in the hospital with no one knowing what was wrong. I learned what a central line was and that it sucked.

I discovered that doctors can be clueless. Pre-2010, I thought they knew a lot. By 2011, I knew they didn’t. As I steadily declined, there were fewer and fewer attempts to figure things out. By 2013, I had lost 140 pounds and was unable to eat. A flaw in contracting made it possible for me to be seen at another hospital. So, I lived 14 hours away from my family for 6 months while the doctors figured it out.

And they sort of did. Lots of different things were discussed. I’m just now realizing how easily fixated doctors become when they see certain words. Words that indicate something might be fixable. It turns out, doctors don’t like unknowns.

I’m finding out that the less a doctor knows about something, the more they avoid it. I’m in a status quo relationship with my doctors right now. Hey, I’m still alive. It’s okay to let things go because I’m stable. No need to try to figure this out because, well, it won’t change anything, will it?

But, what if? What if just one doctor decided to look deeper and try to figure out what really went wrong and whether it could be fixed? Would I regain some freedom? Not have to carry a bag of fluids all the time? Be able to do things beyond walking? Eat a salad again (yeah, you never know what you’ll miss until it’s gone)? Not worry about how much I will “pay” for enjoying a meal out with friends? That’s a lot of what ifs.

Six years. I no longer have paid employment. I’m not sure anyone would hire me because of the bag of fluids on my back and the service dog by my side. I struggle with feeling helpless. With feeling useless. I should be doing something, right.

Well, maybe one day. Maybe one day I can be fixed. I can ditch the pumps and medications. I could go horseback riding. I could take a Zumba class (that may be a stretch anyway). I could go out to a movie and eat popcorn. I could live without medication alarms. I could go back to teaching. Flitting dreams right now.

You always hear people telling you to live each day to the fullest because you never know what life will bring. I encourage you to do so. Get out and be passionate. The laundry will still be there tomorrow. Take time to enjoy what you love doing. Slow down and savor your food. For that matter, savor everything.

Live. Love. Laugh.

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