Six month follow up…

Six month follow up…

I laid there with my arms over my head, an IV dripping into a vein in the crook of my arm. My knees were bent with a foam wedge under them. As my body moved in and out of the round tube, my body rushed with the chemicals they pumped into my arm. A plastic voice ordered, “take a big breath and hold it.” And then later, “breathe.” While magnets whirred around my body, I could feel the anxiety rising, threatening to close off my airway. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. A few minutes later, the Tech said, “are you okay?” I nodded yes, of course. I’m fine. But I thought, I don’t know. That’s why I am here. Continue reading “Six month follow up…”

A new rhythm…

A new rhythm…

One of the unintended consequences of my recent trauma has been a profound sense of disconnection from my life. I’m certain there are lots of reasons for this. Life literally stopped for a couple months, weakness and pain kept me close to home, and dealing with the emotional, physical, and spiritual aftermath has been no joke. I have been so grateful for the space, the time, and the grace to move through my own process of healing. I’ve found the silence healing. I’ve spent time reading. I’ve snuggled close to my husband and children. It feels as though I’ve let go, somehow, and just life move on without me. Continue reading “A new rhythm…”

Grandma’s china…

Grandma’s china…

As these things go, my grandma’s china came to me. My mom packed it up in boxes and shipped it across the country a long time ago. The first Christmas after it arrived, I carefully cleaned it and set the table for holiday dinner. Later, I told my mom how special it was to use the china, but couldn’t get over how small the plates were. We chuckled about how serving sizes have changed over time. Continue reading “Grandma’s china…”

All the words…

All the words…

The summer I graduated from college (at forty), I spent weeks hiding from my kids on the screened in back porch. I gathered armfuls of books from the library, and spent my days sipping iced tea, and gulping down books. I read as though my life depended on it. When I finished a book, I laid on the sofa and watched puffy white clouds float by. And then… I started another. Continue reading “All the words…”

Full stop…

Full stop…

When my kids were little, my life revolved around a second hand beige mini-van. My kids lived in that van as though it were their second home. It was filled with pieces of our lives. Footballs, extra shoes (the one’s Allie was missing), books, CDs, and army men were littered across the seats and floor. Trips to McDonalds left paper cups disintegrating in the cupholders, chicken nuggets hiding under the seat, and fries littered like confetti across the seats. Continue reading “Full stop…”

Morning & Evening…

Morning & Evening…

This year, I am studying summer like there will be a test at the end. I’m intentionally lingering in the breeze of a summer night enjoying the feel as warm air slides across my body. I am paying attention as swirling heat, brushes my hair back from my face as I walk between buildings on campus. I am noticing how my lungs recoil at the thick humidity that feels like a warm wall of water as I step outside of the air conditioning. The air seems to be alive, and I am awake to it in a new way. Continue reading “Morning & Evening…”

Aftermath…

Aftermath…

When my doctor walked into the room she wrapped me in a hug and said, “So much has happened since I last saw you.” I was undone. She offered me tissues as I wiped the makeup from under my chin, and tried to croak out words to reassure her that I am really fine, just fine. Thirty minutes later, she made several referrals and instructed me to call if I had any further questions. She hugged me again as I left. Continue reading “Aftermath…”

Body language…

Body language…

A few years ago, I came down with chest cold. I was sick, very sick. When I went to the doctor, she told me it was just a virus, to take over the counter medicine, and call her if I wasn’t better in a week. So, I did. I took all the medicine and reported to work the next day. My eyes were glassy, I was very pale, and everyone could see that I was too sick to be there. Everyone, that is, except me. It wasn’t until the end of the day, when the medicine wore off, that I realized how sick I was. So, I went home and waited to get better. After a few more days, and some feverish Facebook rambling, my nurse friend called to say, “I don’t care what the doctor told you. You are too old to have a fever for this long. You need to be seen again.” Continue reading “Body language…”

Summer’s promise…

Summer’s promise…

The dust is settling. The drama has subsided. After this latest storm, my life is regaining familiar contours. Yesterday, I scheduled a hair appointment and I went grocery shopping on my own. I’m still home, determined to give my body and soul space to recover. But I will return to work next week and begin to pick up the pieces. Continue reading “Summer’s promise…”