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Sunk In

So, thought this might be a good opportunity for those who wish to get to know a litle about me. It seems I’ve had a revelation this morning eleven years in the making and I’m told that when things of this sort occur the best path to take is toward the journal. So here I go….

It is into year eleven and it may have just now sunk in. That phrase ‘sunk in’ is so appropriate…when the knowing of a thing finally becomes a reality beyond the brain…my stomach first takes a wild turn upward, like riding in the back seat of my fathers’ car as he travels over hills and dips…but then the excitement of the new reality vanishes as the nature of that reaity becomes clear…and my stomach drops like a stone dragging along my heart with it. My hands begin to tremble and my lips begin to quiver. So many days I have cried over the loss of this thing but somehow it feels like something new, like the tears will never stop as I gasp in the air between retching sobs. And then my stomach heaves in revolt…in revolt to this realization.

Over 20 years ago, when I was in my early 20’s and still believed in eternity, I used my telephone bill payment to see a psychic. She read my palms. When the small spanish soothsayer, who was shrouded in layers of embroidered bright shawls…no kidding, she really was… came to my life line a perplexed look loomed across her face and she was suddenly engaged by what I had always thought was my rather plain looking palm. She leaned forward, the collection of gold that adorned her neck clinked as they knocked against each other, and scrutinized my hand. By this time my other palm was balled up in a fist, white-knuckled ,with a puddle of sweat swimming in the middle. I thought that psychics didn’t tell you horrific things, like when you were going to die, or if you were going to grow up to be a serial killer…obviously I wasn’t worried about the latter but I thought that the timing was right for some sarcastic humour. When Gypsy Rose Lee finally extricated herself from my hand what she told me was that apparently my life line split into two separate lines, the line distinctly ended and began again several centimeters further on. So, how do you live two lives…could it be death and resuscitation…I suppose it could signify reincarnation…or could it simply indicate some major life change?

Turns out that the answer came eleven years ago, the reality of it finally sinking in only two hours ago, and I posted here because over these eleven years all of the people who were a part of that first life line…the people that I loved fiercely for over half my life…have all disappeared and there is not a single person in this new half of my life life to tell about this ‘sinking in’.

The short version is all I’ll give here, otherwise I’ll bore you beyond tears. Eleven years ago a prominent neurosurgeon with all of the necessary letters after his name..and some thrown in for good measure I think..cut into my throat to get to my cervical cord in order to repair a disc, somewhat dangerous only because it was so high up the cord. Very early on post-surgically I suspected something was amiss; when I finally was able to see the doc I endured quite a lengthy finger-wagging lecture from the highly trained professional wherein he would not entertain the prospect a surgical mishap, instead he suggested that I was only perceiving a problem due to my misuse of pain meds….his diatribe was not only lengthy, small-minded and humiliating but to top it off my mother was in the room! The annointed-one then took me into his examination room where he could actually have a look and feel at his handy work….I think he broke a land speed record getting to his secretary to book a second surgery! The second surgery was much more complicated and he actually took a piece of bone out of my hip without a whisper that this proceedure was even an option…waking in recovery it was like a bad tv medical drama. When I didn’t heal from the second surgey he wasn’t so quick to issue forth his treatise on the matter. Turns out poor placement of surgical hardware as well as dislodgement (screws backing out) and impingement (metal plate pushing on esophagus and trachea) of this hardware will cause me a lifetime of disability.

So, no more social work career, no more sports…including the marathons that I was just about half a year away from attempting, no social life…it’s amazing how fast people fall away when the going gets really tough, no relationship…yes he left because of my disability..he even had the bad taste to say so, no more post-grad studies…..but all of this isn’t even the worst, the worst is that there is no more of me. And this is what has finally, after eleven years, sunk in.

I was excised on that stretcher. There is no more of me. I’ve vanished. Disappeared. Have you seen me? Does anyone know where I’ve gone? Please help me find me…

Comments

  • aynan
    aynanover 6 years ago

    You are right here. Look.

  • Rella
    Rellaover 6 years ago

    That’s awful :(
    The only way I escape the depression of losing is through creating. Redbubble is wonderful because you can share & learn so much….I hope it helps you find comfort :)

  • Hoffard
    Hoffardover 6 years ago

    Wow! Such a hard thing to share… I hope you know you have new friends who will never give up on you! I am so glad you found me and am blessed to know you! I am so sorry that this happened to you but I know that you still have a purpose in life! God bless… Kimberly

  • Freelancer
    Freelancerabout 6 years ago

    I am sorry that you are going through this hard time. Never lose hope and trust in people.
    Even if you think you lost yourself. God bless you and hope you found yourself already.. at least a little with help of this wonderful Bubble Community…

  • Estelle O'Brien
    Estelle O'Brienalmost 6 years ago

    I will be your friend Kathi. I know what it is like to lose everything, and to have to start a new life with no support. Redbubble is a marvellous place for self discovery. You are still there ~ you have just grown into something much more precious, like gold burnished with fire. love from Estelle xx

  • MERCA
    MERCAalmost 6 years ago

    That’s a sad story Kathi ! Life has dealt you a blow and I think this has affected your self belief.. but if you follow your own logic.. that predicted second phase of your life is getting ever closer… I think its probably here.

    As far as I can tell.. you seem a good soul who isn’t afraid to open their mouth and give praise.. in my experience grey people are generally incapable of that.. You certainly wouldn’t entertain a dangerous and colourful place like Red Bubble if you truly were a grey person..

    So ignore those barricades they are really shadows and get your writing going.. just do it.. refuse to entertain negativity about it.. make it like breathing.. life is too short to be put off what you want to do. When you have produced you will have time to decide what is good and bad. If you could plan to run a marathon you can write that great Canadian novel… plan it.. train up.. get the ideas flowing.. make yourself do so many hours a day… and even if no-one else is interested the doing is good in itself. Maybe find a writers group somewhere and link up with them. Have you tried a site like Helium ? You can submit short pieces and get paid for them.

    And of course it is vital you collect “good” art ;)

  • kathibook
    kathibookalmost 6 years ago

    I just now found this comment Andy, I’m so sorry Andy. Thank you for your kind and thoughtful words. You are, of course, right. It is in the doing. And I have been doing…will soon post the first chapter. You are also right when you talk about grey people…I’m certainly not grey, although I’m not sure what colour I am yet. And you aren’t grey either Andy! You are a talented, vibrant artist and a wonderful, caring friend.

  • catherine walker
    catherine walkeralmost 6 years ago
    Hi Kathi,I Have just read your story now.. after all this timeand I’m sorry that I didn’t read it sooner..

    I didn’t realize that you’d been through so much pain and trauma..and I’m sorry to hear about your struggle to stay on top of life..It happens to a lot of us..as you well know.

    I certainly know what pain is all about as I told you before what I’ve been through( and still go through)..with my youngest son..It’s been a 13 year nightmare with him and his disability.

    I Know how tough life can get ..and it throws us some mighty big tests sometimes.. mighty big..almost too big to bear..

    I am determined to push my way through it all ..and continue to be creative..
    I also tell my son this.. as he is such a great musician..and I mean a fantastic self taught guitarist..I tell him never give up….never give up

    Your Creativity is the “life line”..the only thing that really seems to pull us through all of these bad times..the only thing worth anything at all !!..the only thing that will truly fill you up and satisfy you/us

    I firmly beleive this..your own creativeness is the life line.. the “saviour”
    So just keep on keeping on.. OK
    this is advice from someone who has seen and experienced hell..and lived to tell the tale.

    with love from cathy walker
    xxxooo

  • Thank you for this Cathy. You’re 100% right about staying creative, as a matter of fact the world I create is more vibrant and fulfilling than the one I now have to live in. One day we’ll have to compare ’hell’s’!

    – kathibook

  • Marcella Morgan Chestnut
    Marcella Morga...almost 6 years ago

    I am deeply moved by your courage to be so open and am sorry for your multiple losses. It is obvious that you are a thoughtful writer and I look forward to reading more.

  • Marcella, I’m so sorry it’s taken this long to reply. Thank you for your comment on Body Beautiful. And thank you for concern. But thank you mostly for the WatchList save! I’m so grateful to you and for you and I shall post some new work very soon so as not to disappoint your vote of confidence in me. I look forward to knowing you Marcella Chestnut!

    – kathibook

  • Heather Brown Truman
    Heather Brown ...over 5 years ago

    From one damaged body to another…we are souls with a body, not bodies with souls. Yours as is mine is now free…I look forward to you finding yourself and sharing that with us out here. You are unfolding, and it is lovely.