Let It Be
In 2003 as I was the proverbial Phoenix who had just arisen from the ashes of my former life (post-diagnosis, post-divorce, post-initial dfib surgery), a coworker friend and her husband kindly shared with me how much they admired the way I handled the implosion. They were amazed that I just got up and went to work every day and slapped a smile on my face and basically just "Ain't Nothin' Gonna Break-a My Stride"-ed my way through it all. They asked me how I did it.
Well, goodness. It was all an act, of course.
There was nothing brave about how I felt inside, I just didn't have any choice in the matter. I was single and fully dependent on my own income and even though I wanted to spend all day every day curled up in the fetal position sobbing in the corner, that really wasn't an option that was available to me. So I just kept moving forward.
Fast forward 7 years to 2010 when I was post-divorce, post-2nd-dfib-implant and lather, rinse, repeat.
And now 7 years later, here we are again.
But this time it's different. This time there is not enough heart function left for me to pretend that I'm brave or noble.
And wondrously, this time there is Derek. So I've had the luxury of spending the past several days pretty much curled up in the fetal position in the corner, crying. I feel as though I've cycled through all 7 stages of grief roughly every 30 seconds, so let's go to the map (and I've taken the liberty of crossing out the stages I'm not experiencing):
Shock & Denial
Pain & Guilt
Anger & Bargaining
Depression, Reflection & Loneliness
The Upward Turn
Reconstruction & Working Through
Acceptance & Hope
So... yeah. In retrospect I'm spending a lot of time in the early stages and I even have guilt about that. Like, why am I not over this and in the "I'm gonna get a new heart and kick so much future ass, you guys" stage yet? Ugh, even if I were getting enough oxygen, this emotional roller coaster would be exhausting. And I suspect that Derek feels much the same.
He HATES when I share things from our private life (it's like he doesn't know me at all) and I know how very much he doesn't want to be painted as a hero right now, so I'm trying to tread carefully here. But I think I can share this glimpse into our lives without too much friction.
Neither of us has been sleeping very well. I have a narrow edge on Derek in terms of hours logged behind my eyelids because I'm taking Ambien. And while I've offered it repeatedly to him, he always declines. (I suspect he fears that a sleeping aid will prevent him from hearing me if I need help in the night.) So he's as exhausted as I've ever seen him and last night he went upstairs to bed at 7 pm. I followed him up about 15 minutes later once he was out of the shower and in bed and as I stopped at the top of the stairs to catch my breath, I could hear that he was listening to "Let It Be."
And when the night is cloudy
There is still a light that shines on me
Shine until tomorrow
Let it be
I wake up to the sound of music
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be
There will be an answer
Let it be
I stood in the dark hallway, gasping for air and crying, just fundamentally stopped in my tracks by the pain and fear that I know he is feeling. And I can't begin to even explain the complex emotions I was feeling in the knowledge that he was seeking solace from this song, other than to say that if my heart was not already broken, it would've shattered right then and there. But you know, in a good way.
Except, and this is the only reason I can share this without fear of upsetting him, he hadn't asked Alexa to play "Let It Be," he hadn't sought out this song, it was just playing on the channel he was listening to.
Perhaps it's the deep weariness, but this is funny to me.
And maybe that's what will help get me through these early stages and eventually on to acceptance and hope... the humor of it all.
Cuz you guys, life is pretty funny if you let it be.
Quick medical update:
The main reason I feel so terrible right now is that there is fluid built up around my heart and it is making it hard for me to breathe. This is what happens when your heart begins to fail, so it's all new to us. Today I started on a diuretic that will hopefully help alleviate this pressure and get me a little closer to a new normal that is not as debilitating. The pharmacist told Derek that it might take 24 hours for it to have any effect. Fingers crossed.