Sunday, April 7, 2019

13 Years "post op"; and Some Good News!

I've been thinking about how I'm going to write this for literally MONTHS, because you have all heard what happened, probably multiple times before, so it feels very monotonous writing this every year, even though the general feel and point of each post is different (at least I think). I'm guessing after reading last years entry, which I was quite proud of no lie, some of you (or maybe none I don’t know) are wondering if I actually sent that to him. And to be honest(man I use that word a lot in my blogs lol), I wasn't going to send it, but then I thought, why did I write it if I wasn't going to send it? I thought I had an answer to that question, but as I thought it through they were just excuses. So I swallowed hard and sent it. I thought about it every once and a while; just oh I wonder if he got it? and I hope he's not mad at me, because when I say I never talked with him, I seriously mean, I NEVER talked with him, ESPECIALLY not about my feelings on what happened during this particular hospitalization. I would literally give him one word answers to all of his questions, or yes or no shakes of my head, and the only reason I can think of was because most of the time I saw him during those 2-4 years, I was SO SICK, that I just wanted him to help me. He knew why I was there so I almost didn’t really have to say anything. But ironically, I never really realized I didn't really say anything to him, until my mom told me.

One night about 2 months ago, I was just playing candy crush on my phone (I cannot believe how invested I am in that game, it's so sad lol), and  looked at my email icon on my phone, that had about 30,000 unread emails, (no joke, however the majority of them are from fb and I don't have the energy to go through them all), and I went into my email and just glanced at all the 450 unread emails that were before me on that particular account, and I just slid my finger up and down the page, and then something caught my eye. It was my previous doctor's name. At first, I looked at it sort of confused. Ironically, it was not my first instinct to think of the letter I had sent him almost a year before and it definitely was not an email I would immediately rush to open either. But then when I realized it, and put the pieces together, I was so excited,  my heart racing, every thought I've ever thought in my entire life going through my head. I can't really explain it.  I was terrified to read it, but so excited at the same time. I swallowed hard, opened it and began reading.

I sort of glanced over the entirety of the letter first, just preparing myself for how long or short it would be. I can't really tell you what I thought it would say, because I literally had NO CLUE how he would respond.. So I know your next question would most probably be, "Then what were you afraid of?" and I can't answer that either, all that was running through my head at that point, was your letter was very direct, so be prepared for him to feel bad.  I'm the sort of person, who psychs herself out about ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. I used to think I would prepare for the worst, and then hopefully if it didn't happen, I could be happy about it. The way the past has gone, it has just been easier if the end result was going to be bad. But he told me he was glad I wrote my letter the way I did because very rarely is he able to see the view of a child, recollected in adulthood, especially when things don't go as planned and I thought to myself, Gee is that what I did? Yeah I guess so. He also said that he too wished that the night of the stroke had a different outcome. He also said, he wished we were able to talk about things, but that this letter communicated what was most important. Because of the fact that I had always been so quiet he had always wondered, whether I had feelings about my general health and the goings on of the years he was my doctor. After I read the fact that he was happy I wrote the letter, it was like I could finally breathe, in my mind that meant he wasn't upset by it, and in fact he was very receptive of the letter as a whole.

Compared to my letter,  his was short and sweet. Just like the way he's always been. He said the letter showed him what a kind, quietly thoughtful, articulate adult I have become. I was so happy when I read that. And I guess that's true, at least for a guy who never really heard me say anything. It was in that moment, I realized I was never "mad at him." and I told him that in the letter, I was just so confused that I looked for someone to blame and he was the easiest person to blame, unfortunately, to take responsibility for what happened, he was the attending at that surgery, so everyone assisting in that surgery had to do what he told them to do, did he tell them to do something that gave me a stroke? I don't think I will ever have that answer. I was just so confused and lost for such a long time, that I thought blaming someone would make me feel better. But I was realizing over time that not only did it not make me feel any better, that it also just made me more confused, because I didn't then nor do I now have all the information from that night, and I probably will never have all the information, so I had to make a choice.  I was tired of looking for someone to blame. I was tired of taking the "scapegoat way out of things by blaming someone, when in reality it probably wasn't his fault at all and I was realizing that blaming someone didn't erase the fact that it happened.

So how am I doing today? I'm doing great! Well comparatively. I will always have chronic pain, and a some degree of hemi-paresis, and I've accepted that, it's my life and I have to make things happen or else nothing will happen. and I know that for the most part, things aren't going to get better or easier, and so if I do nothing, I won't accomplish anything. So it would be better, if I learned to do things with chronic pain, because chronic pain is just that, it's unpredictable, and it's chronic, so I have absolutely no clue how long it will  last or how I will feel in ten minutes. I could feel exactly the same, or I could be 100x worse, or 100x better. You just never know, and so I've learned to have some degree of flexibility with chronic pain.

I am going to put the link to my letter to him at the bottom of this, because there's bound to be one person who reads this who hasn't read the letter I sent to him and this entry is going to sound a little strange if you have absolutely zero clue as to what I'm talking about. So in finishing this, I'm glad I sent it to him. I'm glad he's  happy. I'm glad he's doing what he loves in a place he loves. If he's happy, I'm happy for him. That's what you do for friends right? It's really weird calling him one of my friends now, but he's not my doctor anymore, he's my friend. And if you read this, You will always be my favorite cowboy boot wearing, Elvis lookalike. And thank you. I know I will never be able to say that enough, but thank you for everything you did for me, after that night, because that was where I saw your true colors. You took my story everywhere you went, trying to get the best minds in the world on my case. You may have felt like you needed to prove something to me but you never did. That was just an added bonus.

http://blessingsinhydro.blogspot.com/2018/04/i-forgive-you.html