Dying to Live

It has been a while since I blogged. The cobwebs are billowing past my face and crusty keyboard keys squeak every time I try to type. Once I dust off the layers of wasted stories and events that have built up and never seen the light of day, it will be easier to get down to what I want to say today.

This year has not been easy. Since finding out about my renal failure and going through the motions to establish some form of new life with the disease/ailment, I have persevered with a positive attitude and fighting spirit. The amount of support and good wishes were incredible, especially since I am an introvert and do not keep in contact with many people. Thank you for that. There’s a quote that goes, ‘In life we weep at the thought of death. In death, perhaps we weep at the thought of life’ – Marylyn Monroe. I hope that is her quote and not something that has been attached to her because of her celebrity status. The quote itself resonates with me as I enter the second year of sickness. My positive temperament is worn and my cynical nature has found a firmer footing. Over the weekend, I had a serious bout of illness – so bad the family decided to call the paramedics. I was terrified. Terrified of being alone in a hospital in the middle of the night. Terrified of dying because I was in so much pain. My terror turned into hysterical tears which is not something I am proud of. I try to maintain some level of decorum even in illness.

Needless to say, I refused hospitalisation and thanked the paramedics for their time and effort. They could only check my vitals and advise me to take paracetamol. Honestly, the fear of having to go with them numbed my pain more than anything else. I can honestly say it was my first real panic attack about dying. When I was first rushed to the hospital and told that I was going to die if I didn’t receive treatment right away, it didn’t phase me at all. I took it all in my stride. But this weekend has shown me how vulnerable my mind is and how quickly panic takes over. The pain has subsided, thankfully, and I am recovering.

I just wanted to share this moment with you because I am caught in a bubble of silence at the moment and feel like I am living on my own planet far from mankind. Yes, I could reach out and make plans and go out and live life and do what everyone else is doing, but I don’t want to. It’s tiring. Watching everyone go about their day is about as entertaining as it gets for me. Apart from my writing classes, of course, which I absolutely love. They keep me going each week. I guess I am weeping at the thought of life. I am counting down the days and awaiting that final moment. I know it won’t be coming soon, or maybe it will; either way, I am ready for it.

Unfortunately, I am not as creative as some of my counterparts who have gone out after doing amazing things. My steps are little and easy to fill. The footprints I will leave in the sand will probably disappear seconds after I am gone and I am okay with that. Now, it’s just the fear to overcome – the fear of missing out!