This is the second, and the biggest, of the three events I've mentioned in earlier posts that have shaken my world recently by happening in rapid succession, bringing with them much anxiety and depression with no room to breathe or process one incident before the next one hits. The first was my previous post "Schrodinger's Car."
During that adventure, I was without my car for an entire week. During that week, basically home bound, other than the rides begged from coworkers to and from work, and not able to get anywhere on my own, I noticed something peculiar with my leg. There was a spot on my upper calf that was tender to the touch and felt like a bruise. "Huh..." I thought, then went about my business. It didn't hurt other than when I touched it, so I just wouldn't touch it. Over the course of a few days, though, it turned pink, and this pink streak started to move up to, then just past my knee. Again it didn't hurt other than being sensitive to the touch, and I thought it was an allergic reaction to something or a rash. It seemed to follow the seam of my jeans so I started calculating how long it had been since I'd done laundry -- perhaps my jeans were extra dirty and my skin was reacting? And it really did appear to be just skin deep.
So I did laundry. Still the pink remained, stretching slowly up my thigh. I kept trying to ignore it, because I didn't have a car to drive to the doctor with, plus I'd had a blood clot last year and it had healed, so what are the chances of it being another one? Well, as the days stretched on without a car, and the feelings of helplessness and vulnerability increased, it was harder to chase those thoughts away. Finally I got my car back but, my doctor not being open on the weekends, I had a couple more days' wait til I could see her.
By the time I got in to see her I'd convinced myself again that it was nothing. In fact, expecting it to be a quick visit on my lunch break, I figured I'd wait to grab lunch on my way back to work. Wrong answer.
My doctor, a Naturopath, took one look at my leg and her whole cheerful, optimistic demeanor disappeared. "Guess where you're goin'?" She said as she pulled some paper work out of a folder and began filling it out. "Oh no," was my only reply. I'd been through this eerily familiar scenario the year before so I knew exactly where she was sending me -- for an ultrasound to check for a blood clot. And there was no daddling. Other than pausing to give me a long, reassuring hug, she sped me on my way.
Oh no... Not again... Okay... I've been here before... I can do this...
So I wasn't surprised when the ultrasound revealed a clot, or being put into a wheel chair and carted down to the ER. It was an experience of a detached deja-vu, and I was pretty much resolved to dealing with whatever the Universe had in store for me. I'd survived the first time. This time I may just need to dig a little deeper into the spiritual reasons this popped into my reality a second time.
At the same time there seemed to be something different. My wheel-chair chauffeur even mentioned this one was a little scarier than the first. I'm still not sure exactly why, and I didn't really want to know. I just wanted to get in, and get the treatment so I could set those worries aside and not be concerned about dropping dead at any moment.
They wheeled me in to the ER, got me officially checked in, and then, contrary to the last time where they wheeled me into a room and instantly started taking care of me, they wheeled me back out to the lobby saying they'd call me in as soon as the doctor was available.
Alright. Now I was starting to freak out a bit. After being told how serious this was, I was sitting in the lobby waiting. It didn't help that it was closing in on evening and I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since breakfast. I really started to think in terms of 'what if I don't make it this time?' My wait seemed an eternity of anxiety waves washing over me, spiking, then retreating. Still, there was a bit of satisfaction that I didn't fall into full-on panic attack.
I was momentarily relieved when they finally wheeled me back into a room. But after hooking me up to the machines that go 'bing' and taking some blood, I found myself again alone and waiting. This was a bit maddening because, from the last time I'd experienced this, I knew as soon as I got the first blood thinner I'd be safe -- that would prevent any part of the clot from breaking off and entering my heart, brain, or lungs -- but until then I was afraid I could go at any moment, so what were they waiting for?!
Through the experience I was able to call a couple people, including my mom since I honestly didn't know if I were getting out of this alive, and I texted a bunch of friends to send prayers and healing energy. One of my friends reminded me of the card I had pulled just the day before at our Sacred Pipe Circle --
It is actually a page from a desk top calendar, but how fitting is that? She more than anybody helped me stay in my body and remain present through the experience, keeping me mindful of the spiritual reasons and bigger picture that was going on (Thank you Tara!).
Finally I received my first treatment of blood thinner, which was a huge relief. So I can go home now, right? Nope. They were concerned about my heart rate and didn't want to let me go til it came down a bit. The whole time I was thinking to myself, "If you just let me go home, it'll come down on its own!" Because I hadn't had anything to drink all day they started me on some liquids to rehydrate me which can affect heart rate, and that did have a positive effect -- At least until they came in with an EKG machine to check my heart, and I got the feeling they were waiting to see if I were going to have a heart attack or something. I'm sure my anxiety peaked again. And despite any attempts to meditate or give myself reiki, it felt like a losing battle and I just couldn't calm down. I was looking my mortality in the face and wasn't sure I'd make it.
Though I didn't go into full-blown panic attack, the anxiety I was experiencing was bringing back some oh-too-familiar feelings and thoughts. It wasn't death that I was afraid of. I'd had enough experiences through meditation, shamanic journeys, and psychopomp (helping souls who had passed to get to the light), that I knew there was nothing to fear there. No. My biggest fear was failing all the people who loved me. All the people currently expressing their love and support and healing thoughts... If I were to die anyway, it felt like a huge betrayal of them. It felt like a huge expectation that I didn't know if I had the energy to fill. And I would be a loser for not being able to take care of myself, and for letting my anxiety run away with me unfettered until my heart couldn't handle it anymore. It would be my fault and I would let down all the people who look up to me, and they would see me for the fake I really am.
Through all of that, I did find a point of surrender that I hadn't felt since my Vision Quest four years earlier. The last night of my quest I spent in the sweat lodge, but believe me there was no sweating going on. It was in the first half of May, and it still got really, really cold at night, and I was so cold I didn't know if I would make it til morning. At some point I just totally surrendered, and said a prayer that, if it was my time to go -- Here I am. Take me. As you probably have already guessed, I didn't die then. In fact, shortly after that the sun began to rise and things began to warm up. And then I heard chanting, and when I looked around to see who was singing, I realized it was the stone people in the center of the lodge, left from the first sweat we'd done to begin my ceremony. It was the voices of the Grandfathers, heralding the completion of my ordeal, and then whispering in my ear my new Spirit Name.
I think it finally dawned on me then that this whole experience in the ER was part of another Vision Quest for me. So I closed my eyes and told Goddess that, if it were her will and it was time for me to leave this life, then I was ready for her to take me. I just kind of surrendered and let go of eveything, not knowing what to expect, least of all what happened next.
As I sat there, anxieties still raging around me and threatening to tear me apart while I buffered my willingness to surrender to whatever Divine plan awaited me, a portal of sorts opened before me, like a window just in front of my third eye. And as I looked in amazement trying to figure out what was happening, these hands and arms reached through the portal, grasped me, and pulled me through -- not into death but into life. Somehow I realized that these were the hands of all those I would help in the future, reaching back and pulling me into the reality where I do live and still make a difference in the world - in their worlds.
That's when I flashed on the following scene, perhaps my favorite in the entire Ruruoni Kenshin series, about a former samurai assassin who took a pledge never to kill again, carrying a samurai sword that has its blade on the non-business side...
...because instantly I was aware that it did matter if I lived or died -- That if I still had things to accomplish in this life I wasn't going anywhere. That rather than being ready to die, I had also to be ready to live. I had to live, for my sake and the sake of everyone who I'd help. I had to stay alive.
A dear friend arrived to keep me company in the ER, and I credit her presence for calming me enough that they would release me, and am so grateful to her and her house mates for allowing me to spend that night at their place. Though I was coming down, my anxieties were still all over the place, and I felt better not having to spend the night alone. I took the following day off of work to walk in the woods and to ground. I had some dried apples someone had given me a couple months ago, and I took them to a special Hawthorne tree I know, and emptied the bag at the roots. An offering of gratitude to all in the spirit realm, the realm of the Fae, and the physical realm, who had aided in my standing there once more upon the earth. "Thank you Goddess."
***
Thanksgiving arrived shortly after this all went down, and a friend gathered with her family, as people are wont to do on such occasions. Her Brother was there and was complaining about his leg bothering him for no reason. My recent ER experience still fresh in her mind, my friend told him that he'd better get it checked out because it could be a clot. A couple days later he had it checked out and it turns out he did in fact have a blood clot. So my experience, as rough as it was, actually helped save someone else's life. How can I not be grateful for that?
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I am grateful! Amazing story Patrick!
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