The day was like any other Saturday except it was the first day of Mercury in Retrograde.
Being spiritual I kinda knew what that meant. (yes, I’m a medium that doesn’t know all things metaphysical)
So, I braced for some chaos.
Everything started out okay, except I was massively tired. Now that I look back on it, I was more tired than usual that day.
I paid no attention to that, downed some coffee and got to getting…
That day, I sat in on a conference with Heal a Woman, Heal a Nation. It was a round table of Boss Ladies…true change makers, talking about what we can do about upleveling the way we show up in the world.
Throughout the day, I had waves of energy come over me, which as a medium I was starting to get used to.
By the end of the day, I felt flush…Imagine my face sans melanin…(I know right)
I stopped by my mom’s house to pick up my munchkin, and the voices in my head was telling me to go to urgent care.
The voice this time wasn’t that of my spirit guide but that of my grandmother. And when she speaks you listen.
I went to urgent care, told them of my symptoms…tightening in my chest, trouble breathing, dizziness, and just overall feeling of being void.
During my chest exam, all I kept hearing was, “hold on…it’s going to be okay”
Seconds later, my knees buckled and a wave of energy flew through my body and began to seize every inch of my body. I was flopping like a fish out of water. I had no idea what was happening…Except, that I could “feel” when it was about it happen. Auras, they call it…different than my definition.
People started running from every room of urgent care, strapping my down, poking and prodding, asking me question about where I was…
Where I was, was out of my body….This isn’t happening. I had shit to do…things to accomplish, dammit!
While I was being wheeled out on a stretcher, my husband had arrived to pick up my daughter.
This first stay in the hospital was a week. Every test came back normal. Normal, they said. The diagnosis was probable non-epileptic seizure disorder, brought on by trauma that hasn’t been dealt with.
Are you stressed they asked…well who isn’t I told them.
Are you depressed…umm, not that I know of.
I left the hospital that time with no hard set diagnosis and a follow-up to see a neurologist, a month later.
I went back to work, well because, that’s what type-A people do. We press on.
But sometimes, our body will accomplish what our minds won’t let me us do.
And my body was like, I’m fed up with your bullshit!
Fast forward to December, I think I’m adjusting well. Despite my new speech impediment, my foot dragging walk, my occasional tremors and my recent loss of all physical activity levels, I was ummmm surviving.
I went bowling for my daughters birthday, and everyone told me to sit down…but sit down is all I’ve literally been doing for two months. If I was going to have a seizure anyway, at least I was going to enjoy my daughters party.
That night I got home and stared at the flight of stairs leading up to my bedroom. I had forgotten how to walk up stairs. I felt like that newly acquired puppy who never saw a flight of stairs before.
When I woke up the following day, I got out of bed and had acquired a new symptom. One where I was unable to stand upright, and walk without holding on to something
I gave a stutter step up and feel to me knees. At the moment I gave in. I sat and cried even as my husband took my hand and helped me up the steps. He was used to helping, well not really because, I could do it dammit!
I just wanted to be the person I was on October 3rd. The one that went out dancing when she wanted. My instinct as an Army Sgt was to fight. This whole time I was raging against the machine, willing myself to be that person again.
I looked in the mirror and literally couldn’t recognize the person staring back at me. I was a void vessel, walking around everyday, struggling to accomplish the most mundane tasks.
So to the hospital I went again, this time I ended up in a rehab facility learning to walk again. This was really myself. I fell into deep depression, because everything was sucking. My relationship was strained because of this, I felt less than…
I was going to my guides daily, asking why. What the hell is wrong with me. I just HAD to figure it out.
Trying to figure it out wasn’t working.
With every illness there’s a lesson. And my lesson was to surrender to the process.
I stopped trying to be the old me, because I was evolving and this was just part of the process.
I couldn’t be the new me, while still holding on the old me.
So often, the universe makes changes to your life path to undo the crap you added and to us it appears as if everything is falling apart, when in actuality the only thing that is happening is a course correction.
Am I fully cured? Nope.
Am I happy about that? Nope.
Do I still wish they could pinpoint something tangibly wrong? Absolutely.
Am I willing to take it one step at a time? Yes
So a day at a time it is. And I may never have a reason for my illness that satisfies me, and I have to be okay with that.
Sometimes you just have to eat the damn sandwich!
When was a time that you just had to surrender to the process, and eat the damn sandwich?