Fear is a terrible thing. I don’t think that is news to anyone. A lot of people assume that just because I deal with health issues, I’m brave. Maybe I’m selling myself short by saying I’m not brave. I’ve been through things—scary things. Through a few of my hospital stays, I’ve been known to write quotes about bravery on the white board in the hospital room. I’ve even written, in pen, “stay brave” on my hand. Sometimes I need a good, visual reminder.
No, I was not born equipped with a bravery mode. Oh, how I wish I had been. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, as I feel I’m at a cross-point in my life. Today may not be the actual cross-point, but I feel antsy and ready for change. However, I am terrified for that change. There are so many “what ifs” that I cannot answer. But I can tell you about the simple things that terrify me.
I’m not okay with centipedes. Have you seen those critters? They look appalling and somehow consistently appear above my bed. The other day, my niece was over, and I squashed a bug with my bare hands, feeling very grown up and unafraid. But a centipede will send me into a screaming, foot-dance-stomping situation. I instantly regress in age.
I left a spider alive the other day in my closet because I thought the spider might eat the centipedes. I looked up later to find out that I, in fact, had kept the centipede food supply alive. Centipedes: 1. Sami: 0. No wonder they like me so much.
I also don’t like the dropping feeling of an elevator from a high floor, or while on a Ferris wheel—or an airplane. This stems from when I was five: I was on a plane that was very close to landing on another plane due to fog, and it had to abruptly ascend in the sky. That awful stomach-dropping sensation gets me every time.
My mom tried to take me to the observatory of the John Hancock building in Chicago, which is on the 94th floor, and I had quite the catastrophic panic attack in the lobby. I never even got near the elevator. There was a whole lot of shaking going on, but I was really trying to push through.
That was a few years ago, and I wonder how I would do now. Can’t they just stop the elevator every 10 floors or so? I have since been on a very small indoor Ferris wheel with Shelly.
Let’s get to the real basics of my fear: Will I clot? What will happen? I just got back from a cross-country trip to see a top specialist for a consult about my clotting disorder. I didn’t think too much about the consult in the days leading up to it. Even in the car on the way there, I was pretty okay. But the day before, I was trying to meditate with my iPod as tears streamed down my face.
I’m not the most outwardly emotive person, so you know I was really feeling it if I was crying. What if they didn’t have answers? What if I had come to the one place that is supposed to have the answers, and I got nothing? I had waited months for this.
I think I’ve gotten over the general concept of “I get blood clots.” It happens, it’s scary, and I get past it. But I’ve always had that grain of hope that someone would have better answers or some kind of clearer picture for me. I just want my life to be easier.
It turns out that the doctor was amazing. He spent a significant amount of time with me, and he patiently answered any and all questions. While it will take some time to get some pieces together, I am optimistic that my life can resemble a somewhat “normal” life over the course of the next few years. So where does that put me now?
I’ve always hated planning for the future because plans have never worked out in my favor. It has gotten to the point where it is driving my friends a bit batty. “Sami, what are we doing next Saturday?” they ask me. I don’t know. Here I am unable and unwilling to give them an answer because I’d rather have no plans than cancelled plans. I want that to turn around.
When I first found out I would be writing this blog, I had a brief quarter-life crisis. Writing in this context was a dream I had: a long- term, future dream. Now that it was coming true, I wasn’t sure where to go from there.
I’m going to start working on grad school applications. I’m really excited about writing, if you couldn’t tell by reading this. I’d love to get a Master of Fine Arts in writing because it is something I’ve truly been passionate about since I was very little. At least I’ve never been afraid to fail, and scholastically I’ve never seen that as a possibility.
Sometimes you have to break down walls in your life, and you have to shake things up a bit. I’m working on the shaking and the breaking.
The week before the cross-country road trip, I was home alone for a week while my parents traveled for their anniversary. I have to say it was kind of great timing. I was quietly mulling over the fear concept, and I realized that the point in all of this is action. What was I going to do with writing?
I got out and about more. I went to coffee shops. I found out that I can’t write in coffee shops for the life of me. I get highly distracted because I like to people-watch. I creepily lingered around Barnes and Noble for a few hours, and I actually did get some writing in. I Skyped with friends. I worked on music. I started focusing on music recording plans with friends. I kept things moving.
That weekend, I had been in talks to go on a date with a guy in Chicago, but that fell through. I picked up the phone, called Shelly and booked us two train tickets to Chicago. I texted another friend who lived in Chicago, and we met up with him for coffee. I was going to go to Chicago regardless and have an amazing time, and I did. It was great.
That’s why I didn’t think about my doctor’s appointment in the days leading up to it. I kept my life in perpetual motion. I didn’t allow myself the time to sit and get caught up in all the possibilities and all of the loose ends.
Since I’m already on that mobile path, I’m going to keep going with it. I want to learn more things that maybe I thought I would never be good at—like the harmonica. Maybe I could actually make it up to the John Hancock Observatory? I think I’m brave enough now to give it a try. Someone else can deal with the centipedes.