Each month usually has a general direction or theme that I can speak to; not so much April, however. It’s been a month of everything: healing, setback, haze, peace, struggle, stress, and growth. I’m not making a beeline from A to B, that’s for sure.
Despite the detours and the weird place I find myself today, I do have faith that I’m slowly making it through to where I want to be.
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The plane lifts. Like many traveling for the first time since the pandemic began, anxious feelings churn beneath my calm exterior.
Is it safe to fly? Will I regret this later?
All things considered, I reaaaaaally don’t have much to complain about.
That’s one major advantage of coming out the other side of a major medical issue as a young adult: recover, and the magnitude of most life issues dramatically diminishes compared to how you might have perceived the same life issues had you never gotten sick at all.
Have you ever tried to compress ~10 months of life into a single month’s worth of time?
Things uh, get a little chaotic 😅
The world that doctors live in…
The classic story arc of autoimmune encephalitis goes something like this: a patient presents to the hospital emergency room with an abrupt onset of psychotic features that include hallucinations, paranoia, anxiety, and strange behavioural changes.
Eat, make some calls, attend appointments, peruse medical journals, sleep, repeat.
Most days were an exhausting barrage of monotony, all in the name of attempting to move my medical recovery forward. It’s mind-boggling how much time can be consumed just coordinating medical logistics, not to mention the cognitive fatigue that arises from keeping tabs on multiple moving parts.