#immunosupressed

No, see at the age of 20, it really looked like the universe was trying to decide whether or not I should be alive. I ended up in the hospital multiple times due to an incurable autoimmune disease, and then a car accident landed me in ICU for a month. That happened to be the week before Thanksgiving through days before Christmas (if I remember correctly) and I’ve been celebrating it ever since. For those who weren’t there, I’ll spare you the graphic details, but I went from “she won’t likely survive the night” to “she might survive, but she’ll never walk” to “she’ll walk, but never unassisted,” to “okay but you have to wait another month because we are mostly afraid you’ll break your arm again.”

Note: They were right to fear this last one. I literally fell my first tennis match back during WARM UPS. Didn’t break my arm again. Did gain a killer backhand knowing people would target the scar.

People nearly die every day. Why celebrate this? I don’t think I am a pessimist by nature, but I do genuinely appreciate an anniversary to remind me about all the things I am truly thankful for, especially an anniversary without the added side effects of familial trauma, colonizer guilt, and forced cheer. No, instead I reflect on the things that keep me alive now, fourteen years after my death day. And when you add in the growing political unease and two years past the beginning date of a pandemic, I personally need to be reminded to take a minute and be thankful. The date represents a hard year, and a reminder to myself that while I now have a healthy relationship with the concept of me dying, I’m still so glad I’m here. So no, I don’t mentally calculate all the days I nearly died (every day I drive on the highway, let’s be real). But I do take a minute every November to compose my thoughts on life.

How are you celebrating this year? Well, I’ve started my morning with three cats using my bed to play “the floor is lava.” I’ll see my wonderful mom and two of my amazing siblings and grandmother for Thanksgiving lunch, then hanging out with Redd once he gets up from his super late shift last night. I’ll be in contact with those I love through out the day because we all will be navigating family. Maybe for fifteen I’ll throw a party or something. Fifteen extra years with me — you’re welcome (no really I’m so sorry.)

What new items are on your thankful list? First, I am thankful to the scientist out there working on “orphan diseases.” A new medication came out this year that could potentially put me in remission, get me off steroids, and potentially get me off my chemotherapy med. How amazing is that? I’ve spent the majority of the last two years fighting off the depression that comes with hearing a world constantly talk about how you aren’t important because you are sick. Or that you are less important because you are sick. The universe disagrees, bud, but I digress. I’ve been thinking about how thankful I am I didn’t give up on podcasting. Last year, especially this time of year, was incredibly rough and I did not consider podcasting a fun escape anymore. I had made the mistake of who I chose to cohost podcast with, I had men belittle my intelligence and tell me I was dramatic. I knew I was done hosting, being in front of a mic, but I was ready to move behind it permanently, into a writing position if I was lucky. Fortunately, I didn’t do any of that. I started up a podcast idea that was all consuming, I put myself on a time table that ended up requiring me to be in front of the mic again, and I’ve had to come face to face with some real repercussions and consequences of what had happened in 2021. Because of that, I have so many new people I adore working with, I have new friends I can’t imagine how I got this far without them in my life, and a genuinely great team to help push it forward. And it’s in the finals for some awards — look I know I throw myself into something when I cannot cope, and I’m glad this time it’s been a healthy project. One that has changed me for the better. I am also thankful that I’ve gained strength to stand up for myself more. I’m still working to gain back my confidence and self-worth, and I have made great strides forward in setting boundaries of who is allowed in my life and why. I also adopted two cats this year — a very outgoing part dog named Tempo, and a trained rogue who will steal your heart named Astrid. Along with Inanna, they keep our apartment loved, cozy, and chatty actually.

But again, none of this could be accomplished on my own. I have a support system of an amazing mom and step dad who may not always understand me but will support me (through the teasing). I have 3 siblings that just mean the world to me and inspire me to be a better person by watching them grow. I have Keira, who has only shown me kindness, friendship, and love, reminding me again that family is never just blood. I have four amazing best friends that are just as willing to talk me through the anxiety attack as they are to tell me when I am the problem. I never expected “Am I being dramatic or…” to be the way I orient myself in life, but I am so thankful they don’t judge it. I am thankful for the group of doctors and nurses I need to live. Not only that they all help keep me alive (and sane!) but because I’ve somehow found doctors that listen and work with me, rather than talk down to me.

What advice would you give someone post 14 years after nearly dying? I feel like I should put a caveat on my advice: most of this is advice I have to give myself regularly.

Stop trying to find the meaning of life. Just live. Don’t live to work, live for life. If that’s family, if it’s creating, if it’s traveling, cool! Find work/life balance and find it early. I didn’t have it at 20; I really didn’t have it until 33/34. It is life changing. If there is a secret to the universe, a “reason to be here” then I have figured out what my reason is, and what the universe’s reason might be. I don’t love the second, but I can only control the first.

Down time is healthy. Doing “nothing” is healthy. Producing something at all times is not healthy.

You can only control you, and that fucking sucks. Let me be clear — it’s a good thing I can’t control other people or how they react, and it’s even better no one can control me! Does that mean I like it? Absolutely not! Humans are unpredictable and you have to learn to roll with it.

Giving 100% and spoon theory actually overlap, and it took me way too long to realize that.

Notebooks don’t buy happiness. But an e-ink tablet is coming very close.

Teaching your cat to play fetch (or to “bring me the toy so I’ll play with you”) is a great idea in theory, ruins bathroom time quite frequently.