Day Three: Name something you have to forgive yourself for.
I think most people have regrets. It is human nature. It is just the manner in which people chose to handle them that is the most telling.
I would like to say I have no regrets or that I have nothing to forgive myself for, but I can't. I would be lying. I know many people that don't have regrets who can say that - and it is quite the envious trait I must admit. The idea of being able to live without wondering "What if?" must be incredibly freeing. I am working on it though.
So the heart. That pic' illustrates what is wrong with me. I don't have a broken heart in the sense of romance - Pooldad still loves me [I think? - ::Honey feel free to comment anytime!::] but the fact is my heart is actually broken. And I think I could've tried harder to keep it from happening.
But now that it has and I am stuck with a crappy ticker, I have to deal with it, but first I have to forgive myself for letting it happen.
[If this post could be anymore self indulgent just let me know. ::crickets::]
Here is the deal - I have had severe anemia for over 20 years. This isn't your run of the mill, typical, "every woman gets a little anemic during her time of the month" anemia. This is the full bore "let's give Skippy a blood transfusion" type of anemia. I stopped giving blood in my teens because of it, pregnancy became a thing I should never do again and basically I just learned to live with being the pale girl who was cold and tired all the time. Oh and I ate a boatload of liver and greens. No kidding. [Thank goodness I love the stuff.]
Everytime I was tested for anemia the doctors would come back with "We don't know what is causing it. Oh well." Seriously - no one wanted to try harder, least of all me, to discover what the heck was wrong and why pills, shots and transfusions weren't sticking.
It should also be said that I hate hospitals, doctors - anything to do with cold steel, polished floors, antiseptic and white coats. No thank you. So when they threw up their hands, so did I. I was just happy to be out of there.
Then came this past year and as I got progressively more ill I refused to go to the doctors. Refused. They couldn't fix what was wrong with me before and I didn't want to bother with them again.
When I finally ended up at the hospital the doctors said "You are probably the most anemic person we have ever seen. How are you not dead?" [True statement. I have also heard this before.] How do you answer that?
After they pumped me full of six pints of iron rich blood [Quick aside: If vampires suck the blood out of everyone why the hell are they so pale? Are they only attacking anemic people? I mean I get the whole no sun thing, but c'mon!] the doctors discovered the anemia had caused Congestive Heart Failure [CHF].
Here comes the forgiveness part: I knew I was sick. I didn't know exactly what it was, but had I gone months earlier I probably could've gotten the transfusion sooner and saved my heart from failing. MY fault. No doubt.
Stupid. It doesn't bother me so much for me - it is just knowing that I have lessened my life expectancy because of a bad choice and therefore have ultimately denied my children and the love of my life a Mom and a companion for the years they expected me to be here.
This will take some time I think, but I am working on it.