On Sunday, I was sent from an urgent care facility to the emergency room. Whatever happened is still a mystery (Though definitely not COVID).
I really didn’t want to go in. I detest needles and suspected they’d need to use them, but had the suspicion something was wrong. I have insurance, so better safe than sorry? I called my mom (a physician) to get reassurance but she told me to go immediately. I felt a little uneasy but as soon as I got into urgent care I was calm. They did an initial exam and then sent me to the ER. Of course needles were involved, I didn’t like that. At every point though the staff were wonderful.
I never once had the thought that I was in any imminent danger, but the doctors seemed to be fairly concerned at specific points. Maybe that concern stuck with me in some way though because as I was being told to breathe by the CT machine I had the unprompted thought, “I had a good run”.
I’m grateful for that.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my life since then, and the possibility of death (though again, I’m certain it was nothing and I hate to contextualize what I’m saying in this way but it’s an important element). Though the possibility of death has always been there, I’ve been made more aware of it. My first intense awareness of it’s approach maybe.
I remember when my grandfather was dying, he told my mom “it didn’t work out”, meaning life didn’t work out as he hoped or expected. He felt it unfulfilled. I remember being very sad he thought so, deepening the gratitude I have that I don’t think the same of my own life. I have some unfulfilled dreams. I struggle in various ways. But I really am contented in my life.
Other than my family, two of my closest friends, my roommate, and a mentor, no one knows what happened. I’m not sure if that’s the right approach. My last therapist once told me I need to be more open, because that’s how people connect and relate to you. But I feel like it’s a burden.This news pushes people away right? I guess this is why I have this space here though.
And of course, life moves on. The next day I had to teach. Zoom meetings to attend. Texts to reply to. Calls to answer. My “My week’s been good! How has yours been?” responses. Bills need to get paid. My pets didn’t care one bit why I was gone for so long. Reassurances must be given. And I reflect, on my own.
The intensely dramatic, the mundane day-to-day, and the beautifully serene elements of life continue on. I’m happy I get to be a part of it. But I’m also so grateful that I know now, that I know, this has been a good run. May I hold on to that for the rest of my life, and may it be a long life indeed. 🙂