A year

I cannot believe that one year ago today was when I acquired that damn little yellow box. Some of you might remember what happened: I got sick, took a lot of penicillin, had an allergic reaction to it (and not just one reaction - three, something my ER doc friend in Canada says is extremely rare, so yay me!), got my first epi pen (said yellow box), and ended up in the ER unable to breathe very well.

A year.

It seems crazy. Didn't that just happen? But then on the other hand, didn't that happen like a lifetime ago? But I suppose that's how these things go.

I think about that day, a year ago, and the day after it, when I was in the hospital, quite a bit. Maybe more than I should. Last spring and this fall, whenever I'd start to get the sniffles, or a sore throat, or whatever, I'd flash back to that day. That day when I was pretty sure I was going to die.

It's true. That Sunday night, my physical body covered in hives and swollen almost to capacity, I stood in the shower under a hot stream of water and prayed. I prayed to God that if I died that night, I wanted nothing more than to be in heaven with Him. I prayed simply, silently, through the water and the tears. I prayed for those I would leave behind and for what I where I would go. I prayed.

Did I feel a sense of relief? Yes. I did. I felt like maybe, whatever was happening, was happening for a reason. I prayed that God was in control, because I certainly wasn't, not of my body. I prayed that He hold me and comfort me and take me home, His will be done.

And I remember stepping out of that shower and thinking, well, that's over. I've made my peace. And as I laid down in bed, pants, socks, long sleeve shirt and gloves on (to stop the itching I didn't know I was doing at night but had left me bleeding the night before), I had this feeling of peace. Even though my body and mind were in chaos, my soul was not.

And yet? I didn't carry that peace with me this last year, not totally. I didn't lose it all but most of it comes and goes. There were moments when I was sure a slight cough was going to be the end of me. There were times when I held my breath as the liver test results came back because I had no idea if my body would ever function normally again after all those life-saving drugs (liver function is good, not great, but we're getting there!).

So yes, this is something I think about, a lot. I think about how important it is to not take the days and breaths for granted. I think about how important it is to find peace now because later might be too late. I think about how I am so fortunate to have the people I love fill my life with their presence.

I recently talked to a friend on the phone who I hadn't spoken too in quite some time. She said my voice had an edge to it, that I sounded hardened. I asked her if this was a good thing and she said, oh hell yes. She said I sounded like someone who has finally come into her own. And I love that. Because I have. I have figured out what's important in life (most days) and even better, who's important. I've made it a priority to spend time and energy on those people and when they return in kind, I've figured out the secret. Life is good. All will be well.

A year.

I've survived, and lived through, another year. I didn't know if that would happen last January 22nd. I'm glad it did. Here's to the next!