After my last birthday post the Universe showed me once again that it has a great sense of humor and that I am never in control. Or in the words of John Lennon, “Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans.”
I spent a year working from home, wearing a mask, hand washing and sanitizing all the time. I did leave the house. I went to the neighborhood
stores, got a pedicure twice in one year, and I went out to eat occasionally, always with a mask. I
saw a few friends and not always with a mask. In the end I didn’t get Covid19 from any public place. I got it in the most common way that people get it, from
someone I know.
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| Me, at the tail-end of my illness. |
Not to be dramatic, but you all know that I am. I realized
something today. This is my 5th lease on life. I really better do
something freaking amazing now!
First
there was the lump in my breast that was benign –
July, 2015. I’m ashamed to say that after that scare I promised that I would
start running and eating healthy. I wasn’t true to my promise. So the Universe
had to give me another nudge.
In November, 2018 I had a heart misdiagnosis. The doctors
thought I had WPW and they weren’t sure what the second thing was that they
were seeing. One doctor thought that it was possibly a sick sinus node. Thank
goodness it ended up being an ectopic atrial rhythm that’s not hurting
anything. I don’t have WPW either. This ectopic thing mimics WPW.
February, 2020. While taking vancomycin, an antibiotic, for a
bone infection, intravenously, I developed a severe allergic reaction that put
me in the hospital for five days. Thank goodness I didn’t die of anaphylaxis.
That same month, February, 2020, because of the bone
infection, I had to have the tip of my toe bone amputated and I felt very fortunate
that it was just the tip. I didn’t lose the whole toe! Which would have been
terrible for my high heels and open toe sandals.
Now I can add, “Survived Covid19” to the list, March, 2021.
Although it’s still early, and I don’t know what damage it may have caused, I
am still extremely grateful that I didn’t end up in the hospital on a
ventilator. I was extremely exhausted
for three weeks, nauseous a lot of the time and just feeling all-over sick,
but I kept saying that if that was it, I was grateful.
Those
of you who know me know where I’m going with this. That’s FIVE times that I
have had a very close call with either death or a serious illness. I’m taken
back to that original scare, the breast lump that was smooth and round. I was
told that because of its appearance in the ultrasound it was benign. They’ve
never found another lump since then.
Right
after that happened I promised that I would start running (this was pre-Peloton
bike) and that I was going to change my ways. Although I’ve made a lot of
progress since then I’m not where I should be. If I’m being honest with myself
I’m at least sixty pound over-weight and I need to seriously work on that. I'm going to change up my routine and I'm going to start running while the weather is nice on the days I'm not on the bike.
In
addition to getting healthier, I also keep starting and stopping on my writing
journey. Yes, I write here, yes I’ve been published recently in a magazine, but I always allow myself to be side-tracked. I
get distracted from the bigger goal, which is to write regularly, to sharpen my
skills, and to publish a book. I used to say a novel, but now I’m thinking a
non-fiction book will be my first book.
I have a new lease on life. I have another chance. The Universe is getting tired of sending me these nudges and pushes and now it's shouting at me. I need to listen now.
