So, I’m just 6-7 weeks from hitting my two year point from surviving medical hell.
I wanted to give an update, and maybe a little bit of a reality check for my self about what I have seen, learned, regret and wish I could change.
My mental state has been up and down, as things have become more and more clear that I can never have my old life back.
What I have realized about this new normal that I have been having a hard time dealing with on a mental level.. there is something hard to face when it’s shoved in your face that this is now your new normal.
My new normal:
No dancing in the rain, no running, or shaking my booty in my office to something playing in the background. No walking though the farmer’s market to buy fresh kettle corn, or goat cheese. No wearing pretty dresses or shorts that show off my legs, because I’m ashamed by the consent raw looming scars on my legs from where my legs swell and deflate all the time. I take meds several a day, added vitamins, so that way I can keep healing from the inside out.
I have scars. A small one on my face I catch from time to time from the tubes I had down my throat so I could breathe during and after each of the three surgeries that saved my life. Several smaller ones my belly, of course the massive ones on my abdomen area that will never see the light of day for my sanity as well as the new mottled skin on my lower legs from all the swelling and wounds that reopen.
Being asked if I had knee surgery, being treated like I am invisible because of my mobility issues.
Coming to terms that I will never have my life back, that I will never be who I was.
Knowing that those who have supported me, mentally, physically are people who have permanently helped shape me now.
Learning it’s okay to expect better, and to ask for help. That asking doesn’t make me weak.
That while my body may not be strong as it was, but me, who I am inside is a freaking machine and that every time I get knocked down on my ass, I somehow get back up to face the day.
I’m alive. I breathe, I sing, I can still swim. I have a great husband who supports me every damn day with his amazing calm zen strength.
I have friends who have become home for me.
I am stronger then I look.
I will not go gently. I will keep fighting for the rest of my days.
I do not care what you think of me.
I am a face of necrotizing fasciitis. I am not a victim. I am a survivor.