It’s been a whirlwind of emotions over the past few months that I never imagined I would experience. My life was changed in October when I found myself in a hospital bed, battling sepsis for 3 weeks. What was initially a minor concern quickly spiraled into a medical emergency that left not just my body but my entire life upended.
The early days in the hospital were shop as usual. There were so many tests, scans, and doctors coming in and out, each trying to determine the source of the infection that was wracking my body. Every test brought a new wave of hope that they would find the culprit, but just as often, it brought the crushing disappointment of unanswered questions. Days turn into weeks and my patience turned into anger.
I was at the best hospital in the Northland area since it was the area I lived in. But I wasn’t on the best unit. Even though I was so sick I was still alert and very independent with very, very minimal assistance. Times like those I’m thankful for my medical background that I have and my willingness to advocate for myself. Long story short I had to ask for protein drinks since I wasn’t able to eat, physical therapy since I had been bed bound for 2 weeks from being sick, advocate for a PICC line since 3 midlines failed, ask for a catheter after surgery to keep my dressing dry, and then having to put the catheter in myself and retrieve an UA sample from it because my nurse didn’t know how. Now try and fathom that.
Christmas is coming fast, and it’s a time of year that typically brings me excitement and joy—not worry and dread. But there I was, lying in bed, struggling with the reality that I cannot work for at least until January. As a parent, there’s nothing worse than feeling like I can't provide for my children during the most magical time of the year. The thought of disappointing them, of not being able to give them a proper Christmas, gnaws at me every day.
I can’t help but feel anger rising from the depths of my soul—blazing, righteous anger that bubbles over at the realization that this could have all been prevented. If only someone had controlled their emotions instead of acting impulsively and violently, I wouldn’t be here, paralyzed. If you've never experienced a traumatic situation that led to a disability, let me tell you how deeply it cuts. It not only affects your physical health but your mental and emotional being. The people around you may support you, but the isolation of feeling trapped by a situation you never asked for is lonely.
Navigating anger, frustration, and worry has been difficult. It’s easy to spiral down into negativity and depression, but I remind myself that I have a loving support system. My friends and family have rallied around me, taking care of my kids and lifting me up emotionally. Yet, our Christmas traditions of going to places like Crown Center, Union Station, ice skating, seeing Christmas lights all have been put on hold. If it can’t be done from the comfort of my own bed it will cease to happen. I feel like my Christmas spirit is withering away and the hole in my body is like a black hole sucking up every once of love I have for the holiday. Missing pivotal moments in my kid’s childhood hurts to be honest.
This journey has forced me to confront not just the physical challenges but also the emotional challenges as well. It has shown me that I’m only as strong as my faith and what I can do. In the bible it says “faith without works is dead” so I’m going to keep putting in my work so my faith can produce fruit.