I think I’ve acquired certain oddities after spending so much time not just in the hospital, but also at doctors’ appointments. First off, I have a weaker immune system and know better than to touch things that very well may be germ-laden.
And you spend a lot of time by yourself in a hospital, so you have to keep your mind occupied, especially in the solitude of MRIs, which can run well over an hour. It’s imperative to keep your imagination active just to cope.
When not by yourself, your room is packed full of doctors and med students, as though you are a zoo animal. It’s overwhelming. Lastly, tests that may not be fantastic happen whether you like them or not.
I’ve been dealing with my health issues since I was a kid, so I spent a fair amount of time at the pediatrician. I have a distinct memory of being at my pediatrician’s office at age 5. She was a cool hippie type who had gone to medical school in Europe. She always blew bubbles while washing her hands and had cat watches. If I was good, I would get animal crackers. I never minded shots or getting my blood taken.
This one day, though, I had a sore throat and needed a strep test. I made a mad dash down the hallway. I think two nurses had to hold me down so that the doctor could swab my throat. I’m sure my parents were proud.
As I got older, I would announce that I’d put up with IV sticks but that I’d never have certain tests done—like the spinal tap I had at 15, or the probe passed through my nose into my stomach for a test (It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be). As a result of this, I’m not inclined to hug people, and I’m not a food sharer.
I realize that my behavior is some kind of weird coping/survival mechanism. I thought at one point that I knew how to perfectly deal with everything. I thought that if I didn't hope so much, my health would improve or that they would find better treatment plans, and the continued mess would affect me less. I would be neutral. Anything bad would roll off me like water.
I had many acquaintances in college, but I tended to keep people at arm’s length at all times—never really letting them get to know me and never really feeling close to them. It’s probably my biggest regret and lesson learned from those college years. But it became my game plan during college, especially after the clots started.
I knew amazing people, who would make me mix CDs while I was in the hospital and stop by to visit me even though the hospital was two hours away from our college campus, and they’d even hang out with me at home.
I wanted to run for vice president of the governing board, but I was hospitalized for clots during the mandatory signature collecting time. In an unprecedented move, my friends got all of the signatures I needed to campaign—for me.
When I told the closer friends of mine what was going on with my health and the potential dangers involved, they pried for any details they could get, obviously very concerned by what was going on. They started crying, and I know that was a valid response. But it was far too much for teenage me to process and cope with. That's probably when I began to dislike hugging people. I knew it would crumble my neutral facade.
I went for a good few years stuck in "neutral." The difficulty in this neutral zone is that if you spend so much time trying to avoid feeling upset or feeling pain, you dull your ability to feel happiness or be truly excited about anything.
It also affects how you deal with other people. I went to visit my middle and high school best friend who went to college out in California. I spent the day with her and my mom. We went to The Ellen Show and followed up with dinner at Mr. Chows. I hadn’t seen my friend in months because going back and forth to California is a trek.
Everything sort of caught up with her at dinner. I think she was a bit homesick, and I was leaving the next day. She started to cry, and I had never seen her cry in the entire time I’d known her. I should have gotten up and hugged her, maybe even reached across the table to hold her hand. I had this blank stare, and I knew deep down that in no way was that the appropriate response. I knew I had failed in my friend duties. That was the moment I knew things had to change for me.
I tried to start this transition by really diving into my creative side. I started going through all of the song lyrics I’d ever written to spark some new ideas. I posted a lot of my work online because I really wanted to feel like I was putting myself out there.
I was trying to become more transparent. In a step that I thought would help, I told a long-time friend that I had feelings for him that went beyond friendship. This did not go well—at all. However, I benefited by expanding my personal growth. Neutrality can leave you trapped by fear, and here I was taking giant leaps. It felt pretty good.
It was during this time that I met my friend, Shelly. Shelly exudes warmth and cheerfulness. It’s just her nature. She also hugs more than any person I’ve ever encountered in my entire life. When we say goodbye, we have a tradition of hugging at the top of the stairs and then again at the bottom of the stairs.
When I first started to get to know her, she went in for a hug, and I recoiled. She then looked at me with a very serious face and said, “Sami, if you don’t get enough hugs, you will emotionally die.” She still threatens me with this, but she has a point.
I learned once I got to NHF’s Annual Meeting that all of the new friends I met through NYLI were very much the same way. Many had grown up together going to annual meetings or hanging out at camp. This definitely threw me out of my comfort zone. Never before had I piled into a hotel room with 15–20 twenty-somethings I had never met before to watch TV and play Mad Libs. It was really the best thing for me.
I still feel awkward at times, especially when someone goes in for a hug, and I’ve never met them before. I definitely have no problem hugging someone I know. I have a friend that I’ve known since middle school, and we still don’t hug. He is, however, a food sharer—so basically, I just can’t win. At least he knows that anything chocolate is always the proper dessert choice.
I’m glad that my friends chip away at my comfort zone. I have a tendency to place unnecessary barriers to keep others out. They are never beneficial and at times just leave me feeling distant and unconnected, when I really would just love to be in complete comfort with my surroundings.
I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, and my friends do a very good job in protecting my empathetic nature. I’ve realized that I do very well with a few friends that I am absolutely comfortable with rather than trying to appease the masses. I may come across as quiet at times, but I’m really not. I just need a little more time to come out of my shell. It’s definitely a better place than neutral.