What makes you sparkle? This summer, as I have suffered with ARVD, had surgery and been recovering from all of it, all while moving to a new state and being in a temporary living situation with family, I have been on a search for my sparkle that I lost some time ago. I have searched in the trees, in the water, at the mall, in Idaho, and in chocolate (of course). 8 days ago, when we came across Samantha in her upside-down pickup truck, something shifted in me. (The photo was taken by Sam after her truck was turned upright.) After all the wheelings and dealings, I think I am getting close to finding my sparkle.
Let's Review: If you do not already know the story, I was going to die. Remember, I was at high risk for going into cardiac arrest. It took 16 years to be diagnosed with this heart condition and if the doctors did not do surgery on me and give me an ICD, then.... I would die. If my heart rate got over 120 bpm, it could kill me. Then, I had my miracle. The doctors fixed my heart and now.... I am going to live! Hooray!
In finding out I was going to live, I began to be more open to.... everything. I want to learn more. I want to experience more. I want to live more. However, I have to remember that even though it has been four weeks (and one day) since my hospital visit, I am still in recovery mode. I learned that the hard way when I went hiking yesterday. Oh boy, does my area of intrusion hurt! (Yes, Mom, I know you told me so. I had to try, though.) The hike was not overly difficult, but when you have recently had doctors send foreign objects into your veins and heart, you tend to feel it when using muscles you do not use everyday.
On this hike, my youngest boy and I stuck together. We liked to keep the slower pace because I am technically still in recovery and he is not much of a hiker. We would set a goal, make it to that goal, rest for a minute, then start all over again.
"Mom, I can't go anymore," he would express to me.
"Yes, you can! Let's just get to the tree (or stone, or marker) then we can rest. You can set the next goal after that," I would tell him. "You can do it!" Encouraging him to do this way the only way I could help him not quit the hike. He kept going. I kept going. We were going to do this thing!
When we were about to the top of the mountain, we stopped for our (hopefully) last rest. From where we were, we could see the Great Salt Lake. With total exhaustion, and nerves from the height, he sweetly said to me, "Mom, I just cannot go any farther." I reassured him that I was very proud of him for making it as far as he did and that I would finish the hike for both of us. He stayed at the lookout point, which alone was impressive to me, because it was rather high up. By then, my pain was not too bad, so I thought I could keep going. I went a little bit farther, just where the path curved and we had to climb over some small boulders, and then saw the drop-off. Immediately, I felt a panic attack setting in.
B-Man and I are both severely afraid of heights. I get nervous just climbing on a ladder. I get nervous taking the glass elevator up two floors at the local library. Hiking to the top of a mountain (or foothill in this case) was fine.... until I saw the drop. I knew that if I pushed my pain in my groin area, plus had a panic attack at the top, I would not make it down very easily. My husband and our teen son already had our 6-year-old girl, plus our dog, at the top. They did not need Baby Me to be up there, just to panic. I really wanted to do it, though. Truly. I wanted to finish for B-Man, who did the best he could. I wanted to do it for me, to celebrate my one-month mark of my new life. I really, really wanted to finish. So, I took one more step and... turned around. I came down the path, toward my youngest boy... and I was in tears.
"Mom, are you crying?" he kindly asked.
"Yes..... I have failed you, Buddy. I couldn't make it to the top. I am so sorry. I just couldn't do it. I have failed," I cried to my young son.
"Oh Mom," he replied. "You have not failed. You made it to the next goal. You kept going as far as you could. It's ok, Mom. I am proud of you. You did not fail."
"C'mon, Mom. Let's beat them all down the trail," he encouraged. We began walking down the trail. Suddenly, I heard Miss B (age 6) yell, "Mom! I did it! I made it to the top! I conquered my fear of heights, Mom! Yeah!" she yelled with a fist pump from the top of the peak. There she was with Daddy, Big Brother and her awesome self. How could I not be proud? (The picturesque view is from the top of the Peak. Credit Salt Lake Magazine.)
B-Man stayed by me much of the way down the trail. I had to stop often, as going downhill was much harder on the area of invasion in my groin area... much harder. At one point, I began to tear up again and my sweetheart asked me what was wrong. I explained to him about not making it to the top. He lovingly told me I went really far and I should be proud of myself for what I had accomplished. I said, "Yes, but it is like making it to the 99th stair out of 100 and turning back."
"But at least you made it up 99," was his kind reply. Sigh. I love my men.
B-Man and I have set a goal that one day we will conquer this small mountain- together. On that day, he told me, is the day he conquers his fear of heights. I cannot wait to be with him and do it together.
As my one month anniversary to my new life approaches, I am learning that healing takes place in all shapes, sizes and mountains. Sometimes, I can conquer hills, sometimes it is mountains, but as long as I am continually moving forward, my body will be whole again when it is time. I am learning a lot about setting and accomplishing goals, conquering fears, and the amazing love of my family. My heart was not working properly for a very long time. It has really been only a few days that it has been repaired. I need to cut myself some slack and just do the best I can as I go through this process. In that, I am finding my sparkle.
My name is Jenny McKinney. I am conquering mountains so who wouldn't want chocolate?
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