Keep Showing Up

I went to the gym Tuesday morning. 

As I do.

As I was finishing up my Yoga, I noticed commotion.

A sweet elderly man who is at the gym every morning had vomited and passed out.

He was conscious again, but he and every single surface around him was covered in vomit.

Never in my life have I seen so much vomit.

Ever.

My mama instincts kicked in and I went to the janitor's closet and got rags and water and a mop.

I desperately wanted to clean him up before the paramedics got there.

But they were fast.

I spent a bit of time helping to clean up the area with the gym employees, then I headed home to get ready for work quickly.

My morning was going as normal until about 11 am when my brain got very, very fuzzy and I became confused and dizzy.

Numbness started in my left hand and was moving up.

Ugh.

I would be unable to drive.

 Barely able to walk.

Kyle came and picked me up and got me in bed where I went to Dreamland for several hours.

When I awoke, I was still tired but the fuzz and dizziness had stayed in Dreamland.

I didn't go to the gym Wednesday or Thursday, which puts me off my routine.

Going to the gym is my time.

It's my time to be strong.

It's my time to reward my body for being so awesome-sauce.

It's my time to listen to whatever music I want to listen to and to work hard.

For me.

Not going puts me in a bit of a funk.

Then yesterday, I got an email from my attending physician at IMC.

It was completed FMLA paperwork for 2109.

I always struggle a bit to read the wording.

'Neurological Disorder' 

'Periods of extreme cognitive fatigue'

'Periods of dizziness, fuzziness, numbness, forgetfulness, inability to perform duties of any kind'

Those can sting a little.

But then I realize that I am SO BLESSED.

I have more good days than bad days.

I am working.

Yes, a few times a month I must leave work early to go home and just sleep.

But it's okay.

And today, I was back at the gym and feeling more like myself!

And, these two.

These were my Valentine's pictures.

These boys have my heart.

I remember holding them for the first time after I couldn't hold them for a while.

It was Heaven.

And everyday since then has been Heaven as well.

Getting My Float On!

Yesterday, I took the train down to American Fork... where T picked me up. We drove to Provo and found our float spot. It's a lovely place right near Provo Canyon. The girl was very nice and the place was extra, extra clean and zen-like. We watched a video about how the filter could suck us in if we don't get out soon enough... then the fake animated character laughed about it. I was not laughing! We took a tour of the spot and she introduced us to our capsules -- our floatation spot for 60 minutes.

I was a bit nervous, mostly because I had never done it before and I didn't know what to expect. I think T was more interested in my facial expressions as things were explained to us!

Then, we each went to our own personal rooms. I stripped down to nothin' and then showered in the in-room shower. Seriously, People... BEST shower head EVER!!!!

Then, in to the capsule I went. It's approximately 10 inches of salt water. The water temperature adjusts to our skin temperature. I got in... did NOT close the lid to the capsule... and began to float. I immediately went in to my meditation and I'm telling you - my brain shut off and I floated for 60 minutes. It was so relaxing. My brain got its nap for the week and my body was just able to be. For the first time since December 10th, all parts of my body felt EQUALLY strong. It was almost emotional for me.

I strongly recommend this place! I believe there is a different company located in Roy. I just might check them out. T bought our tickets through Groupon for an extra good deal.. hint hint.

Learning

You know, throughout this life of mine I have had so many opportunities to learn. But I haven't taken them. I've tried so hard to hurry through the grief process. My way of doing that was to get right back into a situation that I had just gotten out of. That would make the pain from the last trial go away, I thought. I know that it sounds completely dysfunctional. That's because it is. Dysfunctional and sad and exhausting.

I have a team surrounding me that send me notes, quotes, directions, scriptures, thoughts, positive affirmation signs that I sit in front of my face at work, and so on. As I read them, and really read them I realize that it's okay to go all the way through the process. It's long and it's debilitating and it's scary and it's exhausting, but it's there for a reason. It's okay to be broken for now. In reality, I've been broken for 25 years. It's just that now I am allowing myself to be broken and to want to heal the right way.

I read yesterday that if we have to make ourselves smaller to fit into someone's life - we have no business being there. Oh! That is profound. For 25 years, I've been shrinking myself to be accepted into lives I had no business being in to begin with. No more. I need to stand tall. We all do.

The following quote is from Elizabeth Gilbert, sent to me by my Miss Sarah (whom I love and whom I could not do this life without):

Oh, souls — let us try not to worry so much, OK? It's so bad for our minds and our bodies and our spirits, and it's so bad for everyone around us, too. And when we get all bent-up and broken-up and fragmented from worry, we make it SO DIFFICULT for the universe to help show us our destinies.

The universe is wanting to communicate something with you. It wants to take you somewhere very specific (to your ultimate destiny, which is PEACE and wisdom and wholeness) but your worrying is a kind of crazy emotional static that prevents you from hearing the messages.

Have some faith. Have some faith in yourself, and have faith in fate, as well.

What if you remembered this: Everything you have ever endured so far in life, you have survived.

And sometimes, to your own surprise, you even thrived.

Maybe the worst thing you ever endured was a crucible through which you became YOU.

Maybe you could not have become YOU through any other means except by going through that trial.

Maybe a trial will happen again. Maybe a trial is happening right now. And maybe, once again, you will survive it. (All signs point to YES. After all, you have done it before.) Maybe you will come through these troubles re-formed, re-forged. re-born. Maybe you will insist upon that. Maybe that's the strange invitation at the bottom of all this anxiety.

You have seen your own strength. You have seen your own beauty. You have seen your own golden wings. Why do you worry?

What if your story is unfolding just as it was always planned?

Be brave, have faith. You can do this.

The Book

So, you know that whole "book" idea I had? Yeah, maybe not! Miss Birdie sent me a little book a couple of months ago. It is a book, quoting text messages between she and I back in August of 2010. You might remember that August of 2010 is when I got sent to rest for eight days, pretty much against my will. I ended up there because I sent Miss Birdie a text, to which she responded, and then it went on and on until she threatened to call her friends at the Sandy PD. When I received the book from her a couple of months ago, I glanced through it, then closed it.

Well, in order to begin writing the book I had to type out every word in that notebook. So, I opened it and began typing. It was an intense time for me - remembering just how sick I was and just how blessed I am to still be here with my babies. I cried at some points and laughed at others. Miss Birdie wasn't having any crap that day!! (and thank goodness for that) As I typed the last of it, I tore out the pages of the notebook that contained those text messages and threw them away. I don't need them anymore. That was the past and an important part of my past. But it isn't my current and it isn't my future. I don't need them anymore.

So, maybe just maybe that book I thought I needed to write was simply my reading, understanding, and then letting go of that day and that pain and that angst and that fatigue and that sadness and that frustration and that hopelessness. Because today is a new day. And, today I am well enough to know that I wear an invisible crown. So, I'll straighten it and hold my head high because I am here!

Krista Nicole

Last night, Josh and I were at InstaCare until about 10:30. He has been having some health issues that needed to be checked. We went to a different InstaCare than we would normally go to. We were told to go to this location just in case they needed to do a CT or ultrasound - which they did. We arrived at about 8 pm. Just behind us was a young girl, her young husband, and a very sweet service dog. I knew exactly why she was there, even before she told the receptionist her reason for needing to see a doctor. My heart broke for her.

As Josh and I sat and waited, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I watched as she cried uncontrollably. Her sweet husband rubbed her back as she cupped her tear-soaked face in her hands. Her service dog kissed her every chance he got. Finally, I couldn't sit still any longer. I took my coat off, walked up to where they were sitting, cleared off the chair next to her and sat down. She didn't see me. Her face was covered by her hands. I whispered, "Hi." She responded with a tearful "hi." I said, "My name is Heidi, what is your name?" She responded, "Krista." I said, "Hi Krista." Then I said, "I don't know what brought you here tonight, but I know what it's like to be where you are. I was hospitalized a few years ago. I know you're scared and embarrassed and sad and frustrated. I also know that everything will be okay in the end. And, I am so proud of you for coming here on your own. I had to be threatened with police to show up." She sobbed out loud. I asked her if she wanted a hug. She nodded her head, then fell into my arms and cried uncontrollably. I just held her.

I asked her if she had ever been hospitalized. She said she had, about a year ago. I asked her if she thought she needed to go back. She didn't know. All she could do was cry and shake and cry some more. I asked her if she had taken her medicine. She said she had missed a few days. I asked her what medication she was on and she wasn't even able to remember. Her sweet husband pulled it up on her phone. Turns out she has cystic fibrosis on top of her psychological issues. Fun. I asked her to try to remember when she took her medication last. She thought it might have been a week ago - she just kept forgetting to take it.

As it was obvious that she was in a constant panic attack, I asked her if she had been taught what to do while she was in the hospital. She said they hadn't and she didn't know what to do to pull out of it. So, together, in the lobby of InstaCare we did our four on - four off breathing. Then we did our body relaxation together. Then we did our visualization. Then we did our breathing again. She was not calm. I asked her if she wanted to lay down. She did, so I laid her down. It was at that time that Josh and I got called back. I promised I would be back to check on her. We got busy with Josh's exam and I wasn't able to get away.

A nurse walked in after we'd been in our room for a while and said there was a girl at the front desk who wanted to see me. I went out and saw my Krista Nicole. She had been given medication and was feeling a little better - stable at least. She told me she had been praying for me and that I was her angel. I told her to go home and make herself a note to remind her to take her medication this morning. I told her how proud I was of her for getting help. I told her that she was stronger than she thinks she is. I told her she was loved. I reminded her that everything would be okay in the end.

I saw myself in Krista Nicole. I remember so vividly how sick and wounded I was. Krista had me. I had Miss Birdie. I still have Miss Birdie. I was so grateful last night for my time in the hospital, for my compassion for her. I was so grateful that I was well enough last night to lift her and carry her through her trauma. I was so grateful that she let me. I was so grateful for the undeniable truth that we are children of God.

Her sweet husband whispered thank you to me, then "God bless you," as he walked her and their sweet dog out. I winked at him and told him he was doing just fine.