2013 was a great year. I was finally on track after losing my mother and crashing into bankruptcy. I was in control of my life. There was money in my savings account. I had graduated with a masters degree. And I did three half marathons and one full marathon. I also was involved–and succeeding–in a vigorous fitness routine.
Then I got the kidney stone.
While not inherently dangerous, the stone led to the discovery of pulmonary hypertension. There is no cure for PH, and I had seen where PH leads after working as a nurse in an intensive care unit for many years. I did NOT want to die that way.
To make matters worse, I suffered a neck injury in 2015 that left me with chronic pain and weakness in the left arm. Add uncontrolled pain to the fear and anger I already had, and you get disaster. My Christian faith was almost nil at that point. But what was left of it kept me from killing myself. I developed some very destructive habits, wanting to die but not wanting to die. Wanting to live, but not wanting to live.
For much of 2014-2016, I spent my days going through motions. Whenever I heard of someone passing away suddenly in a car accident or from a heart attack, I was envious. Why God would leave me here and take them–people who were needed, with lots of family, children, and friends–was infuriating and senseless. I saw myself as an isolated woman with no real reason to be here. In fact, I was doing a lot of damage by being here. Creating waste, creating problems, creating a carbon footprint, consuming and taking and using resources. For all the effort I put into becoming a successful entertainer, nurse, public speaker, or humanitarian, this is where my life ended up. I was hugely disappointed in myself and in God.
One day, just over a year ago, I was going through my motions driving to a department store when a song came on the radio and caught my attention. The lyrics were so intense and relevant that I pulled over so I could listen fully. I recognized the sound of the Goo Goo Dolls, and the song was called “So Alive”. Here was a man who “gets it”, I remember thinking. I imagined him caught in a vicious emotional battle that was long and tiring. He decided, I thought, to keep pushing forward despite this battle, to keep walking, to experience life. That might not have been why he wrote it, but it was how it struck me. And it was the first thing to make a dent in my dark thinking since my diagnosis.
I downloaded the song, then the album that goes with it. Most of the songs have the same encouraging theme, and the more I listened the deeper my sense of hope grew. Slowly, I started to live again.
I would love for the Goo Goo Dolls to know what that song did to help me, to bolster them with a smidgen of confidence in knowing their work matters, to help them with some little act of kindness. But that would be impossible. What is possible is paying it forward. And that’s how this project was born. It is still in its formative stages, and I don’t know exactly how it will turn or if it will burn out like other ideas I’ve had. I’ve been given these diseases (I was diagnosed with a second incurable disease a few days ago), and mentally fighting them is pointless. They are there. But I choose not to be a dead woman walking. And I want to help YOU along your terrifying road.
Feel free to comment, or to ask me questions. I can’t provide medical advice outside of the scope of nursing, but can maybe help direct you to people who can. And I am always willing to talk about what you are going through.