I hope you will go out and let stories happen to you, and that you will work them, water them with your blood and tears and you laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom. Clarissa Pinkola Estes
I spent the better part of last week emotionally reliving my heart attack. Tests prescribed back in June were finally performed last Monday and Tuesday. and this is how it went down.
The first day was easy enough. I went to the hospital, found the nuclear imaging department. The technician who injected the tracing liquid in my veins was quite funny, and we joked. It felt good to interact with a total stranger this way. Once it was over, I went to eat a sandwich with a pop ( as per the written instructions), read a book for a few hours and right on time went back to the nuclear imaging department. There while lying down on a long metal bed, I slid down inside a semi-moving tunnel where my heart got photographed. It was over relatively fast. So back home I went.
Arriving at the hospital much earlier the next day, I got all wired up and this time also equipped with an intravenous port. Blood pressure cuffs on my arm, wires inserted under my shirt:” you’re a bit nervous today, are you?” asked one of the technicians while looking at her screen. I felt fine and told them so. Deep down, I was sure this was going to be a breeze. Another technician pulled up the modesty curtain and asked how I felt. “So far, so good,” was my answer. A generic reply is often my go to in this case.
She proceeded then to inject something in my veins; that’s when the fun started.
My jaws tighten so hard I could barely move them while my whole body got limp; I felt nauseous. I promise an elephant was sitting on my chest. Nerve-wracking and panic-inducing would be an accurate description of how it felt. During the whole episode, I tried to describe what I was experiencing. After being given two doses of antidote, I went to eat breakfast. I had forgotten to bring change. I couldn’t even indulge in drinking coffee. A couple of hours later, I was back in the nuclear imaging department. This time felt awkward; no more jokes, I felt spent.
Back home, all was normal at first and then it started. Hot tears were burning my cheeks; I couldn’t stop them. I felt the sadness of the world stinging my eyes. At this point, it is noteworthy to understand that when my heart-attack occurred four years ago, I never fully understood what had happened to my body.
What went on last week and lasted up until Sunday evening felt very much like PTSD of an event I do not fully remember. It seems that what I could not deal with back then, is now ready to be uncovered.
Long story long, this is what happened last week and now back to our regular programming.
If you could meet anyone, living or dead, who would you meet?
I just started reading Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes and finding myself curious and fascinated by this amazing woman. I can imagine her across my coffee table and we’d chat. No, much better; she’d tell me one of her many stories and I would listen…
If you could be any fictional character, who would you choose?
How can any book lover chose? Only when pressed or under duress would I be able to give this answer: Either Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice or Harry Potter’s Hermione; See my point? unable to choose 😉
What would you name the autobiography of your life?
Still working on this one. You will be the first one to know, once I work the title out 🙂
How about you friends, what happened on your days off? I’d love to know ❤