Yesterday, I received an unexpected gift from someone. This gesture made me think about gifts in general. I love finding the perfect gift for someone. Sometimes this means I randomly give a friend something for no “real reason” except to see their reaction to what I found. Other times this means that when I am expected to give a gift, say a birthday or holiday, and I can’t find something “good,” I get frustrated. Gifts are definitely my love language. I love giving and receiving them.
As an educator, my desk, office, or classroom was always filled with special gifts. Sometimes it was a dandelion, other times it was a memento from a family trip. They were and still are special because a child or parent thought of me when they were doing something else. My apartment (and storage unit) is filled with these special gifts. I love seeing them on a regular basis. For the most part, I can tell you who gave me what and what the occasion was. From the little Eiffel Tower from Paris to the set of diamond earrings, they bring a memory to life for me.
I am blessed with many friends who love to give gifts too. The many treasures throughout my apartment that remind me of deep relationships with college friends turned sisters, roommates, and mentors throughout the years. I am a sucker for a good memento and my dusting challenges reflect that. After I moved into my current community, I was able to unpack these important pieces of my life. The chalkboard piece from SHM School, the random Mickey ears from Disney trips, my collection of crosses from students and families, and of course my favorite M&M collectibles, all have a special place in my living quarters as well as my heart.
Gifts are a way to share a special moment, they allow us to speak of love without saying a word. My inbox currently reflects a random purchase for a friend. Not for an upcoming birthday or event, but just something that I know speaks of caring for that person- a simple, “I thought of you today.”
How do you gift? Do you like giving and/or receiving gifts? What is your most treasured gift?
Every morning when I awake, I do the same things. First I take off and clean my mask connected to my non-invasive ventilator, then I turn the light on, followed by checking in on my phone. The last piece always includes a look at my Facebook memories. Apparently, this day included many memories, some good, some more painful, and others are a smack in the face of my “previous life.”
Today also marks a month that I have been home without a hospital admission since April. Almost a half of this year was spent being admitted, treated, and discharged from various local hospitals. I love being home and in my routine of things. This isn’t life I dreamed of, but it’s important to make the most of it. I am sure I will look back at this date on Facebook and see the month milestone and laugh about it.
According to Facebook a year ago today, I ended up admitted at MUSC. My brother drove me down to the ER and they, of course, treated me well. I so wish MUSC was closer and didn’t take an act of congress to get there.
Facebook also reminded me that only four years ago I took on a challenge. I signed up for and completed a 15 mile swim for the American Cancer Society in honor of my Dad. I collected pledges in exchange for my hard work, swimming 15 miles in a month. It was the last time I attempted something physical from my body. Swimming has always been a part of me and I am so grateful for the times I swam in college on the swim team. Hopefully once this picc line is out, I will attempt swimming again. This memory reminds me of what I use to be. I am a finisher- 3 half-marathons, a few 10K’s and lots of 5K’s made me a runner, not a very fast one, but a finisher for sure. Now, I look forward to my latest challenge- cardio rehab and working my way towards better health.
With the exception of self-cathing, the hardest medical learning curve was when I had a peg tube. This feeding tube was my only source of nutrition and for a while, hydration as well. I was not prepared for the emotional impact feeding tube would have on me. I was confused, lonely, and missed the socialization of eating with others. I took my formula every couple of hours, hoping and praying that I didn’t throw up. It was down right miserable. There was never a cause found for my inability to swallow or digest foods properly. Another medical mystery to be added to the list. Facebook reminded me that five years ago, I claimed my life back and the peg tube was removed.
There were some non-medical Facebook memories as well. An awesome video of Sofi swimming in my parent’s pool for the first time when we escaped there from hurricane Florence. She was so agile then and loved getting in and out of the pool. As expected, there were memories that seem so distant to me as well. These are the memories of my professional life. The computer lab working again, meetings with parents, the stress of Sunday nights.
I am not sure I would want to re-live any of these memories, but there are there, reminders of a life that was. I am not that person anymore. My hours spent are now my own, and the focus is on improving me, not a school or something similar. I often joke that my medical journey will “Make nurse out of me, yet!” These memories that appear on Facebook, remind me of all the medical adventures that I have had.
What about you? Do you check your Facebook memories? Are they good memories?
I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook memories. I love seeing pictures or updates that include how little my nieces and nephews once were or incredible days with my friends. Then there are the memories that sting: hospital visits, failed operations/procedures, rough days at work, etc. There is a third category of memories, life changing events/ announcements.
Today, the Facebook world reminded me that six years ago, with the help of my amazing doctors, I announced that I would be stepping away from my education career to focus on my health. I remember it took me a couple of weeks to get the courage to tell others. The reality was that I already knew I wasn’t going back to school, there was no way my body could handle the workload. Nevertheless, I posted the decision that not only would I not be working anymore, but that I was moving to Florida to live with my parents.
Since I was a little girl, I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I tortured friends and family with the never-ending need to play school and be the teacher. I loved chalk, alphabet magnets, workbooks, and of course reading! I never thought of any other career path and when I realized that I could be an administrator, I wanted that even more.
So, there I was, unable to work in a school, or really anywhere, packing up my dog and all my belongings, headed to southwest Florida. It was summertime so the sting of not being in a school wasn’t there yet and after all, it was going to be a short stint, just until I could get back on my feet and be healthy again. What wasn’t there to love? I would live in a great house with my wonderful parents and figure everything out.
Then August came, I didn’t have to start hoarding school supplies, I didn’t buy a new planner or new outfits, I simply existed. Each day was like the one before, no students to make it different or exciting. I was a lost soul. Through the help of an incredible therapist, I worked my way through the loss of my career and everything that I thought was connected to it. Each season stung a little less and I found new purpose.
At the same time, my parent’s health, especially my Mom’s, started to decline. Her memory issues became prominent and my Dad required more appointments and support too. I was running from my appointments to theirs. It became a rhythm of sorts, doctor appointments, medication administration, spending time together at things like car shows or grabbing a meal out on the town. I loved this more simple life.
Then Covid hit, changing everything. We were stuck together and still needed to get medical care, especially me and my frequent hospitalizations. To this day, I’m not quite sure how I would have been by myself (well with Sofi) though lockdown and I have no idea what my parents would have done if I wasn’t there. My dad perfected his homemade apple pie, mom continued to decline, especially with a bad fall that required brain surgery, and I kept focusing on getting “better.”
Then the hard days hit- Dad was struggling, the cancer was everywhere and he was showing signs of needing to give up. Mom’s time in rehab after her surgery left her as a shell of her former self. She was becoming a lot to handle at home and required constant care. I had multiple new diagnosis’s and was in and out of the hospital receiving treatments.
Honestly, I don’t remember too much of the day to day events, which is a good thing because they were tough. As a family, we began making plans to move Mom into a nursing home, a decision that was not made lightly. Then Dad was in the hospital and it didn’t look good. Shortly after we moved Mom, dad took control of his own path, we lost him less than a few weeks later.
Mom continued to live at the nursing home and I visited pretty much every day. I brought an iced cappuccino and munchkins and she would tell me stories about visiting with her high school boyfriend. The rhythm became new again. I continued to decline in health and required my own assistance with everyday things. I met wonderful people that helped me find my independence again.
Purpose is not just our career goals. It can be so much more important. Through losing my career, I found an incredible purpose to continue to serve. My family needed me at that time and I would have lost the chance to make incredible memories if I wasn’t pushed to put myself first and stop working. You never know what crazy road God puts you on. It is our job not to question, but believe.
This hangs in my bedroom as a reminder of my “real” purpose!
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