December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards) via Reverb10
As strange as it might sound, I think the day I felt most alive this past year was the day I came home from the hospital. Although I was far from fully recovered from the Windpocken, and now had the added issue of the infection in my left arm to deal with, I was full of excitement and joy.
I was actually released, in part, because I told the doctors I had a party to go to. B’s office was having a party. I told the doctors I had traveled across an ocean to be here. This was one of the few opportunities I had to play wife. I said I would wear a hat and a scarf when asked if I would really go looking like I did.
In the end, I didn’t go, because there was still the chance I could infect someone, especially small children and pregnant women. I didn’t want to chance it, so stayed home alone.
I remember being so happy to be in my bed again (even though it wasn’t really my bed). The same IKEA bed that I feared would collapse under me. The one that I hated climbing out of in the middle of the night when I had to go to the bathroom because it was so low to the ground. It just felt so good to be lying there. The Windpocken gave me spots as well as a different perspective.
I was so relieved to have survived those six days in the hospital. The IVs, the panic attacks, the lotion room, the not understanding, the not being understood, the isolation and loneliness. My body was weak and covered in spots. I couldn’t lift my left arm. It was painful and felt like it was on fire. All of this, and yet I was elated.
I was also quite the chatty Cathy. I just wanted to talk on the phone. And I did. I talked with B’s boss right before the party started to explain I really did want to be there, but couldn’t. And I also talked to my Aunt & Uncle in California to let them know I had been released at last.
I remember watching the sun set and the light fading. The day becoming night. It felt peaceful. I lay there for a while as darkness fell and just let it sink in. I had survived some of my deepest fears – what I could only describe as six days in a room filled with spiders. I was home now. Everything was going to be okay.
I slowly and carefully got out of bed and switched on the light. I plugged my iPhone into its charger, put the earbuds on and rocked out to Lady Gaga until B returned.