Almost two months of being completely bed ridden from the pain, having no level of energy, unable to breathe, and honestly lack of willpower, I was utterly defeated. Cannot begin to count how many times I had to ask my roommate to open my pill bottles/containers because I had no strength to do so. I tried to go back to work, mainly because after two months I could not afford laying around anymore, but I still faced a lot of problems. I would get tired easily, extremely winded, and only had the strength to stand and walk. It seemed it would take forever to get back to my normal self. Living in constant fear and agony of my heart giving out, and never being able to be among my friends and family again. It was a real fear, guys; more than I care to admit.
The doctors originally gave me a six to twelve month recovery window. One cardiologist told me I was fine three months from being discharged. My current cardiologist gave me more real expectations. Currently my heart is open and clear, and seems to function within normal ranges. But, there is still inflammatory damage lingering; which will take a long time to recover from. My current recovery window is roughly three to four years.
To lay it out there, I live in constant pain every day. It feels like there is a swiveling fork in my chest. I have learned to manage living with the pain. Usually it does not greatly mess up my daily life. There are a few occasions where the pain is more prominent then it usually is. I just have to deal with it, as bad as it is. I know this will take a great deal of time. So in short, on a daily basis I am completely fine guys, I do not need special attention. I just need time...
Bill Watterson illustrates in this C&H strip, you never know when that truck is going to hit you. I would have never guessed that I almost died a few times that week. Or that if I had remained my stubborn self for just one more hour before seeking medical attention, my heart would have basically exploded from beating so fast. Facing your mortality can be extremely depressing. I can admit it was a concern from the doctors for a little bit. But from this year I have had so many people ask me "how can you be so easy-going about what happened, and laugh about it?"
Well frankly, my idiocy and stubbornness of the unwillingness to seek medical attention is pretty funny, and also the many stupid acts I did while on some serious pain killers at the hospital is quite hilarious. But it is more because I know that I AM ALIVE. It is the best thing I could ask for. Yes, I still have ups and downs from the hustles of life, but at the end of the day, I am thrilled I was able to live through it. I have been at the lowest of lows, mentally and physically. I have been scared and inexorable at times. Yet, having the ability to tell my story, the brush with death and my battle with the reaper, is truly a blessing and a miracle.
One year down, hopefully only three more to go!
Fight for a better tomorrow...
