First: please check this out I hope it touches you and inspires you the way it just did for me. Honestly moved me to tears! What a powerful video!
I remember my mind was whirling. I sat on the old couch that used to swallow it’s visitor. Everything he did seemed to be slow motion. I could hear it in his voice; he hurt. He argued. He pleaded. He would pull the phone from his ear and imitate beating it against his desk, then replace it at his ear. His back was to me. He was fighting for us. And all I could do was sit, swallowed in the couch, choking back the tears that wanted so badly to flow down my cheeks. Then, I just couldn’t take it any more. What on earth were we fighting for, afterall? Would this ever really work? So I stood up just as he hung up the phone. Questions were burning inside of me, but instead I simply grabbed my purse and said “I’m sorry. I can’t anymore,” and I headed for the door. His face froze like a picture of pain. And my tears finally released, unable to stay dammed behind my lids. “NO!” he shouted. I couldn’t turn to face him; I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough. I heard him fall to his knees, and he grabbed at my ankles; stopping me. “Please, don’t go,” he pleaded. I stepped out of his grasp and pushed forward. The doorknob stung my skin, as if it too were begging me to turn around. I stopped. I turned. I broke down too. There we were, both on our knees clutching to each other, sobbing. Our worlds as we knew them were up in smoke. Everything we knew was disintegrating before our very eyes. “But how?” I asked. How do we do this? Everything we were trying was failing miserably. Could the universe really be pulling us away from each other?
I remember being scared. I sat in the tiny stark white room. It was freezing, or maybe it was just me. Either way, I was shivering. The doctor, whom I’d gotten to know too well lately, walked in with my chart tucked under her arm. Her face was serious and sad. “What did you do?” Her voice sounded unsure and hopeful. They had already run all the obvious test with no diagnosis. They really didn’t know what was wrong with me. Oh my God. I’m going to die. I knew it had to be something serious. The look on her face told me that the combination of my symptoms and the inconclusive diagnosis was not one that led to a oh just kidding, you’ll be just fine kind of doctor’s visit. Something was wrong, seriously seriously wrong. She put her hand over mine, and I couldn’t be strong anymore. I started to cry. Her soothing voice reminded me that there may still be hope for recovery, but first we had to figure out what was wrong. What could be wrong? Doctor’s only talk to you like this when they’re afraid themselves. I’d watched enough Grey’s Anatomy to know this much was true. She helped me up from the stiff chair I was in, and helped me lay down on the examination table. She felt around on my abdomen for the second time. It was uncomfortable but not painful. She didn’t even have any theories. How scary is that? She asked me to sit up. That was hard and painful. I wiggled into a sitting position. My short legs hung over the edge of the table. They swung without my consent; a nervous habit. She monitored my heart again. The stethoscope was cold despite her attempts to warm it by breathing on it. With each poke and prod, I grew less hopeful. At this point, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know what was wrong. Whatever it was, I was certain it would change my life. I’d been asked before in silly questionnaires if I’d ever want to know the day I’d die; I always answered no. The doctor pushed on my ribs. No pain. Then she lifted my shirt against my back. She hit my lower back with the base of her hand. Pain like I’d never known before shot throughout my entire body. I had to swallow the urge to vomit. The doctor apologized, opened my chart and excused herself. huh?
When she came back in, she was holding some new paperwork. The results to my urine test. She needed another sample. I’d really like to stop peeing in cups for people to examine.
Another twenty minutes later, she was sitting in front of me with tears in her eyes but a smile on her face. huh? She explained that I had a terrible kidney infection and that often times with one as severe as this that spending a good chunk of time in the hospital was inevitable. I tasted the salt of my tears. I’m scared.