One Year Later

It dawned on me this week that one year ago today, I had my first doctor's appointment for my crashed hard drive. In some respects, it's hard to believe it has been a year and in other ways, 365 days doesn't seem nearly long enough. In reflection, it's easy to focus on the statistics. For example, the simple fact that I, a person who experiences an increase in heart rate as I walk into Whole Foods, haven't had a non-pureed fruit or vegetable in an entire year. With the exception of my daily ration of yogurt, I haven't had dairy and I think a year without meat probably now categorizes me as an official vegetarian. I now classify gummy bears as a food group and can actually differentiate between brands of white bread and white rice. 

But all that aside, I feel incredibly grateful.


I know that may sound strange. Why on earth would I say that I'm grateful that a virus attacked my body and caused unimaginable havoc? Maybe it's because I'm an optimist to a fault. Maybe it's because life just seems more pleasant when you find the sunny side....or maybe it's because the virus also directly attacked my brain and I am, in fact, absolutely insane. Quite possible.


Regardless, I'm grateful.


I have always been a person who lived life going 300 miles per hour. I was the kid in college who got special permission to take an overload of credits for 5 semesters and as a teacher, in June I can often tell you what my plans are for every single day of the summer. Carpe Diem, right?


All that changes when your hard drive crashes. I'm not meaning to imply a tone of self-pity. In fact, what I'm implying is that getting "benched" by my hard drive gave me no choice but to slow down and take stock, and for that, I am grateful.


Sidelined in the athletic department, I decided to find something else to do. When someone asked me what I liked to do for fun, I didn't want to pretend that spending hours researching gastroparesis and vasomotility was actually both a) a hobby and b) fun. Talk about a conversation stopper. I looked around at many art and music options and ended up joining a local choir. Now, after a few months with the Vienna Choral Society, it brings true shame to my cheeks to realize that I had let such a joy in my life slip for several years.


In college, I wrestled greatly with the choice of pursuing my passion for art, for education and for health and biology. In the end, art and education won...but who would have expected that I'd end up basically half way through med school without actually ever receiving a degree in biology? I mean, I've been to 17 of the 21 floors in the Gonda and Mayo buildings and I now own a Mayo Clinic fleece...you might as well start calling me Dr. B (wonder if this means I'll get a salary increase in the county...).


For the past year, I have been absolutely overwhelmed with the generosity and thoughtfulness of my family and friends. You know that feeling you get when someone does something for you that is so incredibly thoughtful, that you feel like you got smacked in the chest and can't form words? That's the feeling that, thus far, I am unable to articulate, but has been my lifeline through a difficult year. There's nothing quite like a hard drive crash to restore your faith in the human spirit and remind you just how lucky you are to have your friends and family.


I've reconnected with people I haven't spoken to since elementary school. I've developed deeper relationships with friends and former acquaintances and I've met some absolutely incredible people, who I know will now be a part of my life permanently. I have in-laws who are willing to drop everything to take me to an appointment or a surgery. I have a family who has worked every connection imaginable to support me and help me get well. I have a mother who calls me every day, lets me vent when I need to and knows just when to send me a pick-me-up card. I have a father who is willing to spend 5 weeks with his 28 year old daughter in "freeze your tuckus off" Minnesota...and we are still speaking, laughing and joking around. Above all, I have a husband who rolls with the punches and loves me no matter what, even with my extensive amount of bling and baggage.


This is not to say that the past year has been a picnic, because it hasn't (I mean, just look at my skin...I clearly haven't spent too much time outside). I've had more moments of fear, frustration and tears than I'd like to admit. But this is to say, that in reflection, I can't imagine not going through the past year, because of the gifts it has given me.


A year later, I'm still standing at the bottom of a huge mountain, but the mountain has a name and I've been handed a compass. I am grateful for what this year has given me, and although it feels painfully inadequate...thank you.