I saved an old draft (very old. Oct. 2) ... the title was 'I Just Want To Feel Normal.'
Actually, that is a correction; it was titled "I Just Want To Be Normal".
Well, duh, that ain't happening sweetie.
You aren't.
Feel vs. Be... Where is the line drawn?
My last post from the hospital, feeling strong, invigorated, ready to tackle the world, was inspired from once again, not succumbing to infection. Sometimes, even in the worst case scenarios, we find the positives and feel invigorated to take on the world.
A little bit of MRSA, no problem!
I came home on a Friday just 3 weeks ago and couldn't wait to get back to my studio that I had left hanging in a lull after my 'soft opening'. By word of mouth and by local press (thank you, Ronni Newton!), my little studio and boutique were off to an amazing start! My sessions (or Sits, as I like to refer to) were filling up. I left the hospital and was so excited about the Grand Opening Celebration I had planned with another store in my building. It was only a few days away and there was a lot of work to be done.
Food, beverages and a beautiful night brought out so many people!
Everything looked wonderful...from the outside...
But me...
I was sooo tired.
Just smile... welcome all of my wonderful friends, just stand upright... don't wobble...
It was a huge success!
Friends that have been supporting me all of this time came out and the warmth and love I felt from them was the best medicine in the world. I was energized by the love and support and ready to take on the rest of the week. Except... I am still sick. Maybe if I don't talk about it...
Just keep going, hide the drain, forget the PIC line.. try to be 'normal'
I have this nasty drain attached to me. I am supposed to feel great (thank God you're not in the hospital, blah blah blah) "You look beautiful"! etc.. "You hide it so well"
I feel nasty.
A brownish, horrible color is draining into my drain and into other places that have ruined my incredible 'Marshall's Clearance Tops' that will make me look like whatever in my mind I am supposed to look like as an owner of a meditation studio. Nasty stuff is draining from me from my wound and is certainly not safe to have around others.
I feel despicable and dirty.
My wound has opened up again today while I was at the studio.
I am in tears on the way home having put yet another sign on my studio window indicating that I will not be there for the evening sessions.
Maybe no one will notice me scream at the top of my lungs in my car "WHY??" as I drive home with kleenex holding my belly together...
So the visiting nurse has come and I need to be at Yale first thing in the morning. I will be put under sedation so the likely hope of leading meditation tomorrow night is nil. And one more day, I will not live out my dream of helping others to learn to deal with adversity. But I know, I will learn more in the next 24 hours hours.
Because I trust and I belive.
Namaste.
Kim
