NYC Musings

Part of me wants to get on a plane out of here.  Away from all of the people that want to turn back the clock, that don’t value me as a person worthy of protection.  Part of me wants to cry and bury myself in anything that brings me comfort.  Another part of me wants to dismantle the electoral college.  To break down the walls of the status quo, to cut through the fear that caused people to vote against themselves, their neighbors, their children and the world.  

In my tears there is anger, sadness and disbelief.  That deep hurt that is always there as a black woman in America is very close to the surface today and I’m looking for a way to climb out of it, to not wallow in this well of pain.  Today I cry.  Not for me, but for the country, for those more vulnerable than me.  There’s a lot of fear, sadness and anger right now. Those feelings are always there, that’s how we got here. 

What comes next?  For me, it’s helping kids from marginalized groups write college essays.  Giving them hope for their futures, even though I don’t have a lot of hope myself right now.  I’ll celebrate Kamala Harris’ win as the first black Senator of California. I’ll take some comfort in the smaller steps toward progress.  I’m going to look for ways to give back to the community, to use the privilege of my education.  To use my voice. 

Drink water

Listen to Michael

Meditate

Avoid snuff films of your brethren

Be a beacon of light

Get an education

Listen to Kendrick

Pay your taxes

Show respect

Do your best

Love your family

Serve your country

Build the country

Know your rights

Vote

Do the right thing

Invoke the teachings of Martin and Malcolm and Angela

Wear your hair natural

Get another degree

Know your worth

Listen to Chance

Cry silently

Remember that you are magic

Watch others profit from your magic

Tow the line

Become numb

Fight numbness

Fight the power

Feel weary

DAMN DAMN DAMN

Listen to Nina

Listen to Marvin

Feel your anger

Pray to God, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah, Buddha, Gaia, the Universe

Shout into the void

Go for a walk

RUN

Remember Sojourner, Frederick and Harriet

Know The. Struggle. Is. REAL

Dance

Cry out loud

Use your anger

Embrace your sons, brothers, nephews, cousins, husbands, friends

Write to Congress

Listen to Tupac

Know that Black people having been living in a dystopia since Columbus took a wrong turn. 500+ years later our bodies are still expendable.

On May 14 I woke up in the ICU with a tube coming out of the newly shorn front of my head.

See, I’d apparently had an aneurysm the day before. At the time I didn’t know that when it was happening, just that my head hurt like it never had before. I likened the feeling to Zeus taking a stone from the Parthenon and trying to crush my head. What happened was this: It was around 10am in the morning and I was in the bathroom, when the sound went down and the head crushing began. I got up, tried to lay down on the bed but couldn’t get comfortable, I got up and realized that my right foot was weird and then I lost control of it and my entire right leg. I crawled back to the bathroom, my phone was there, I called one of my roommates to see if he was in the house, nope. Called another friend and again nothing. At this point I was panicking, sweating on the floor of the bathroom and at some point said out loud “I don’t want to die”. I called, 911. Gave them the essential information.

Somehow I managed to drag myself out of the bathroom over to my desk to grab my wallet and keys, I even attempted to grab my slide on Van’s but my foot wouldn’t cooperate. I dragged myself down 3 small stairs, to the foyer, opened the door and lay there until the EMT’s arrived. I left the house with, my phone, wallet and keys, wearing a long-sleeved yellow waffle henley, my “at home only” bra and some crazy leggings, with no underwear; the Van’s would be in the foyer for the next 2 weeks.

The first hospital was bad, all I wanted to do was lay down and initially my only option was the floor and they yelled at me to get up. When I finally got a bed, they kept shouting at me for answers when all I could do was moan. And well, I threw up and they didn’t seem happy with me at all. By this point the friend I’d called had met me at the ER and thankfully she was able to answer some things for me. I had an advocate. Somehow, through all of the pain I was able to communicate some important things to her, like the password to my phone. I was transferred to another hospital and well that saved my life. All I remember about that was getting out of the ambulance, being cold and asking for water, oh and having my head be taped down because they needed to get me through a machine and I kept moving. And that is the last thing I remembered until I was woken up the next morning in the ICU.

There is no real explanation as to why this happened when it did. Do I have a history of migraines? Why yes! Do I have hypertension? Indeed. Do I have more than one of these anomalous blood vessels? I did. When you hear aneurysm you just think death. I didn’t know it was something that someone could survive. Well, I survived a ruptured aneurysm with no cognitive or physical deficits. Miraculous, yes, but that isn’t the end of the story.

While in the hospital I had a total of 3 surgeries, multiple visits from physical therapists and occupational therapists, had my head shaved in two different swaths, and a little off the bikini too. Oh, and the morphine helped with it all. I progressed so well that I was released in 2 weeks, after being told that I’d probably be in the ICU for 21 days.

What I learned is that recovery is much longer than how long I laid in the hospital. Coming up on 6 months since it all happened, I realized that recovery for me means confronting all of the things that I’m afraid of, what I’ve been neglecting to do for myself, and basic self-care.