Celebrating survival

6/08/2017 Syl 0 Comments

It's a few years ago, and a few days, that a kind cardiologist told me I might not make it through the night.
All he could do was to give me all the medication he had, leave the protocols at the office, and hope. Resuscitation was not possible.

It was more than 3 months later when he dared to show me the images of the MRI to explain how bad the situation had been.

The first year family and friends expressed their gratitude that I still was alive, but now this new birthday of survival was completely forgotten.

It's not important anymore. I'm taken for granted again.
And in a way I'm forgotten.

I wonder if there's anyone who remembered it's so many years ago. Certainly none cared to mention it.

Survival rate after grave heartfailure has gone up, due to better diagnostic techniques, due to more patient-knowledge, better revalidation,, and due to better medication.
So the kids haven't been bored with prognosis and such. But maybe they should have been.
They should rely less on me being their housekeeper, carer, psychiatrist, banker, laundry woman etc etc.

When I don't feel well it's for them some work in the house that isn't done, for me a reminder that all might be over far too soon, and when I feel depressed: soon enough.
Being confined to the house almost all the time isn't helping.
The last months I feel far more tired than before, and I can't find out why.
That's part of the reason of starting this blog, of changing the room: giving a new content to life, new meaning, new dreams, a feeling of accomplishment and distraction.

If nothing happens this 4th anniversary of survival has no real meaning than adding to the good side of the statistics.

So yesterday I wrote a job application for a job at my dreamplace.
I need to take that stream of positive energy and direct it, use it, and enlarge it.
It's what I did to survive: do what I thought was right, and don't bother about what others might think.

Yesterday someone said to me that this blog is very personal. Yes, it is.
I think there is no value when I won't share what keeps me busy.
I'm not the only one going though this: fighting against self-pity and depression. Dealing with daily tiredness, doubt, and feelings that life should be different from being boring, always the same chores and money-problems, dealing with stubborn organisations, and feeling inadequate.
I know I have many talents, I can be a positive, cheerful person who can deal with almost anything. If only.... if only given the opportunity to shine. (And some help at home to clear the clutter.)

It's just one step to take to be a survivor.
One step.

I took it that night, and I'v taken it more often, like yesterday evening, when I saw myself packing my things and taking the boat, to float to that place my heart longs to be.

Because it's that deep inner feeling of belonging elsewhere that gives me no rest.

It's not about my body. I can train it, influence it in such a way that I can use it better.
It's about taking that one step: from the low energy stream to the positive energy stream.
Imagine someone standing at the other side and reaching a hand.....


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