It has been an interesting month or so, with the anniversary of my heart incident on my mind. It feels weird – difficult to put into words. Not a “bad” feeling, mostly introspection and reminiscing, gratitude and celebration. When it comes down to it, I can be a sentimental sap, and this is certainly an instance.
It was the evening of May 12, 2007 that it happened. May 16 I started to come out of my coma. May 23 I had the pacemaker/defibrillator put in, and May 24 I was released from the hospital. Just a year later, most of that recovery time seems a blur and I wish I remembered more specifics. Thanks to the forum Doug set up, I am able to refresh my memory on several things. Reading it often makes me tear up. I do not want to forget that time when I really realized what was going on, how blessed I felt to be alive, and the feeling of the outpouring of love from everyone.
I was watching Lars and the Real Girl last week (which is a really good movie that I recommend). There's a scene that when a crisis hits, a few older ladies come to the house, bring food, sit and knit. Lars feels a bit awkward, unsure of what he should be doing...
Lars: Um, is there something I should be doing right now?
Lady 1: No, dear. You eat.
Lady 2: We came over to sit.
Lady 3: That's what people do when tragedy strikes.
Lady 2: They come over, and sit.
Those few simple lines of dialogue brought tears to my eyes because it struck me that is exactly what my friends had done for me. I just re-read a forum post where Ron said, “our friend is in trouble, and if we can't sit with him, then we can sit near him.” They did just that, waiting in the lobby together, and holding prayer vigils. It's all just very humbling.
I remember Ron's birthday party that he organized last summer, which turned out to really be a party in my honor; Sheryl's “Wake Up” mix CDs that I listened to in the hospital; the angel that Sarah sent me (it still sits right by my monitor on my desk); Allison visiting, laughing a lot, and freaking out my mom; the LOST season finale party in my hospital room; Tara, the nurse that I never met but that my friends will always tell me is “super cute” and that I should go for her since I squeezed her hand when I was unconscious.
I would enjoy hearing some of the things you remember.