I've put off this moment because I didn't want to jinx it. But even if this is a temporary thing, at least I'll have it documented. My head is filled with so much. Sometime during my hospital stay my life changed. I don't know if it was just a combo of things. I'm confused, but here's how I feel:

I went in the hospital really having a deep fear that this in my chest was gonna kill me. I couldn't shake the feeling. I've had asthma all my life, but never was aware of my deadly vulnerability to it until this past weekend. I go in feeling like I'm facing death. The woman in the bed next to me, Jackie, is anemic and is facing a series of tests to eliminate the possibilities. They do a routine endoscopy on her and find a cancerous tumor in her colon. She wasn't expecting that news. I didn't expect her to get that news. I felt like Death visited in the next bed and I watched in horror as a woman faced her mortality, her immortality. Jackie was moved out into a private room and another woman was moved in.

Every four hours while I was in the hospital, I was given breathing treatments by a respiratory staff person. At 2:00 a.m., a woman showed up for my treatment. I asked her if I could die from my asthma. She said yes. The best thing was to learn as much as possible about it. We talked a little more about it. Die. From my asthma. My pneumonia showed me how extremely vulnerable the bridge was. Something stuck. I'm still not convinced that this thing in me now is not going to kill me and maybe sooner than normal. I can't shake it.

But

I've been crying a lot. I've been taking some kind of inventory. I've had the urge to tell people that I care about what's on my heart and making sure they know how much I care about them. I've started craving milk, orange juice, vegetables, chicken. No chocolate. I find myself wanting to be clear, not numbed. I want to feel the simplest things: wind, flowers, the dog, the birds, John, Sherah. I find myself thinking - the urge is constant. I want to feel, to taste. It's brighter. I see everything. The mockingbird outside is so precise in his calls. So clear. I feel like I've been in a fog and it's been lifted. I want to clean the house from top to bottom. I want to take stock of my body and change it. I want to step out in the world and be a part of the whole flow of life.

When I had the ECT's, I was euphoric. I didn't know it was a side-effect of the ECTs. It was very disappointing to slide back down. I have wondered if this is something like that. I've been asking myself isn't my period due. Maybe it's the side-effect of the steroids I've been on. But I don't know. It feels shifted inside of me. I am just so happy to be alive. Deeply moved. Whether I have six months or 20 years, I want to feel them.

Each year.

Each day.

Each minute.

I want to live.

Me. Live.