on friendship

Over the last five months, I have learnt a hell of a lot.

Mainly, I learnt a lot about the people around me, and which of those people I could truly rely on.  The saying goes something like "weddings, illness and death bring out people's true colours".  I didn't think much of it until M got sick.

I started a new job two months before M got sick, and I was still in my probationary period when everything went down.  When the shit hit the fan, my new boss and colleagues, although they barely knew me, were absolutely amazing.  From letting me take as much time off as I wanted - which honestly wasn't much, I subconsciously tried to keep my routine as close to normal as I could - to keeping me busy, to letting me sleep when I passed out at the lunch table from sheer exhaustion day after day, it was more than I expected.  Even now, that support is still there.  On Thursday afternoon, I had a meltdown while on my lunchbreak, and when I told my boss I needed to go home, she didn't bat an eyelid.  She could just tell, and she didn't hold my moment of weakness against me.  I am so incredibly lucky to have landed what now appears to be my dream job.  Nothing but positive things are in store for the future, I just know it.

Last night, I caught up with a "new" friend.  While I was doing her nails, she just let me bare my soul.  She said that maybe I'm suffering from some form of PTSD.  I won't jump to conclusions, I'll let the professionals decide, but it makes sense to me.  I held it all together until M was released from hospital, and that was when I started my downward spiral.  Towards the end of our catch up, she said that I had helped her through a really bad time.  I was floored.  Me?  Help her?  I didn't do anything out of the ordinary.  And as she left, she gave me a bone-crushing hug and whispered in my ear to keep on going, because things will get better.  My spirit soared; I don't know how to explain it.  I just felt lighter.

Before M got sick, I thought I had an idea of who my true friends were.  And then the Earth shifted on it's axis, my world fell apart, and the truth was revealed.  Friends who I thought I could count on - people who I would have dropped everything for, if the situation were reversed - vanished; I reached out and was greeted with radio silence, or a delayed "oh, that sucks".  In hindsight, I obviously had more invested in that friendship than the other person.  And as much as I wanted them to be there for me, they weren't, and it appears that they didn't want to be.

And yet, there have been others, like my friend two paragraphs ago, who just caught me as I fell.  People who I considered distant friends - not that far above acquaintances, really - who were just there.  Like an old school friend who randomly invited me out to a night on the town, and when I said no because M was in surgery, picked up the phone while she was at work and just let me cry to her about how scared I was.  And there have been others, too, more people who don't come to mind right now.  

The majority of people still don't know how dire the situation was, or that there was even a situation at all; to be honest, that's the way I want it to be.

Now that there is some time between then and now, I've had some time to reflect.  There was one person in particular who I'd wanted to be there and support me, and when they weren't, I was devastated; completely and utterly devastated.  Then I realised that it's quality over quantity.  Just because I've known someone longer than someone else doesn't make them a better or truer friend.  Truth be told, when I think of it now, I have so many more valuable friendships than I thought I did.  M does, too.  I've let go of the ones who aren't willing to meet me/us halfway, because as this year from hell has shown us, life is just too short.

There is also one other fast & firm friend who deserves a special mention.  She knows who she is.  From waxing poetic about anxiety and depression to stupid, frivolous discussions about anything and everything for hours and days on end.  Driving M insane when my phone is constantly going off with minion laughter.  Sharing plans for her future, and for mine.  I can't thank you enough, lady.  I feel better knowing there's at least one other raving lunatic who just gets it.  I'm super duper excited that you found someone just as awesome as you to share your life with, because you deserve it.

Until next time...

mending a broken heart

It's been six weeks and two days since the love of my life was wheeled into surgery to repair his broken heart. It was the longest, scariest day of my life.

He had - and still has - a lot of support. People all over the world have been praying for him. I was praying.

I spent hours at a time by his bedside while he was in intensive care. Sitting quietly, holding his hand. He was in an induced coma for eight days. They ended up putting him on temporary dialysis so they could wake him up. One of the nurses told me that he was under "industrial strength" sedation, and that was the only way to get it out of his system.

I always had a feeling that he was going to be okay. About a week after the surgery, we passed M's surgeon in the corridor and he looked at us with a smug little smirk on his face, and I knew he was going to make it.

The day I walked into intensive care and saw M looking back at me, I almost lost it. When the nurse asked him if he knew who I was, and M nodded, I was so happy. Then the nurse said "is she the love of your life?", and when he nodded again, I started crying. I couldn't help it. I'll always remember that as one of the best moments of my life.

His story is one that is going to be spoken about for years to come. Even the surgeon wasn't expecting him to survive. The amount of damage his body, and particularly his heart, had copped was ridiculous. His blood was septic. Lesions on every organ. Hole in his heart. Partially collapsed lungs full of emboli. Pneumonia as well, I found out later. Enlarged liver and spleen. Damaged kidneys. The inner strength he has is incredible. Not only did he beat the odds, he left the medical profession slack-jawed and bug-eyed in his wake.

M has been home for three weeks. Now we have to come to terms with what our lives have become. At 32, he has two new heart valves. One mechanical, one pig tissue. He has a large graft to seal the hole where the infection was eating away. He also has a pacemaker for life, because he lost a lot of the conductive heart tissue that keeps his heart beating regularly. He calls himself some sort of human/machine/pig concoction. It makes me cringe. I refer to him as my bionic man. It has a nice ring to it.

He's getting stronger every day - walking around the house, finding things to keep himself amused. It will be another 2-3 months before he can go back to work, and I doubt that he'll be able to go back to his storeman role. Too much heavy lifting, labour and stress. Two days ago he got clearance to drive again, and he's stoked. No more being housebound when he isn't going to doctors appointments and blood tests.

A couple of weeks ago M asked me what I would have done if he hadn't survived. I told him I honestly didn't know - because I don't. I didn't even want to entertain the thought when he was at his worst. I couldn't bear to think about it.

He promised me, mere moments before they wheeled him into surgery, that he wouldn't leave me. And he didn't.

That's all that matters.

still into you

Time for a fresh start.

I need to get some things off my chest, eventually. I can't bring myself to do it just yet.

The title of the blog comes from a song that has been getting me through the last couple of months. It always seems to come on the radio right when I need to hear it.

(Let's pretend it isn't a popular new release... I'd like to believe it's a coincidence.)

The last couple of months have changed our lives forever. Where we go from here, I don't know. Where I go from here, I don't know. But we're both here, breathing, living, and that puts us above the odds.

Both of us.