While I feel grateful that I haven't had much experience living through the death of loved ones, I have felt face to face with my own mortality on a few occassions. Not just once, not even twice but there have been at least four experiences that when I look back, I think either "I could have died..." or "I thought I was going to die." Added to this have been feelings of guilt and sadness for putting my loved ones through the experience of also thinking I could have died.
I share this story because it has taken these experiences, among other, mostly negative experiences to develop a strong sense of gratitude, spirituality, connection to myself and the world around me as well as acceptance of mortality. These experiences have kind of shoved me on to this path of an unconventional life. I say shove because it's taken a lot to get me out of a dimly lit, curtained way of living to a brightly lit, open way of living. And of course, it has also prompted me to work on finding comfort or at least acceptance, rather than fearing the death of both myself and my loved ones. So I share to help people understand my journey, but also to inspire someone to find their way by learning from me rather than learning on their own, the hard way, like I did.
Scars
The first time I feel like I could have died, I was 16 years old. As a story like this one usually goes, it was a typical weekend night, hanging out at a friends house with my two best friends at the time. On our way home, driving through a busy four-way intersection, another person drove through a red light, colliding with our car. I wasn't wearing my seatbelt.
I don't remember the collision. I found out later that I had been taken to a local hospital by ambulance but then transported to a more advanced trauma center by helicopter due to the seriousness of my head injury. The first thing I remember is waking up in the hospital, not knowing what happened and hearing a doctor tell my mother I would have an eight-inch scar. With a severe concussion, I was out of it and sleeping a lot. I didn't really know what was going on for another day or two. I ended up with something like 40 stitches and 10 staples to patch up a laceration that cascaded from the crown of my head to the end of my right eyebrow, close to my temple.
All things considered, I recovered rather quickly and have had only minor lasting physical effects from this injury due to nerve damage. But alas, I had pretty bad nerve damage and for a couple of years the right side of my face, particularly my eye and eyebrow, was... droopy. Did I mention this happened the summer before my senior year of high school? Yes, so senior year of high school going into college, this is what I was dealing with. Although the nerve damage has lessened over time and my face has returned to a more symmetrical appearance, the scar remains... physically and mentally. I still experience anxiety when I am a passenger in a car.
The Tunnel
The second time I thought I was going to die came many years later when I was probably around 26. I was driving my black Toyota Celica through the Ted Williams tunnel, which takes you underneath downtown Boston, headed to a friends house for dinner. I don't remember it raining but it must have been because the roads were wet. Little did I know that my tires were worn. While I wasn't speeding, this combination - wet roads and bald tires - plus the winding turns of the tunnel proved to be problematic. All of a sudden, while driving through a four-lane tunnel, my little Celica started spinning around in circles, in the midst of passing cars, headed for a concrete wall.
Somehow, some way, I did not collide with any of the passing cars and I did not collide with the concrete wall. My car came to a stop, facing the proper direction, about a foot from the wall of the tunnel, undamaged. I was not injured at all - I had been wearing my seatbelt, a lesson I already learned the hard way - but thought I must be dead. I sat in my car, looked to my right at the concrete wall that I could have touched from my seat had I been sitting on the passengers side. Looked to my left at the continuous, albeit light stream of passing cars. My heart pounding, I asked myself if I was alive. I waved off someone who had stopped behind me to check on me and continued on driving to my friends house at about 10 mph.
Earthquake
The third time I thought I could have died was a couple of years later. I was working at this job I talk about that I hated. Sitting at my desk in our 10th floor office in Cambridge, MA, behind my computer, I was probably working on some Excel report. Sometimes when people walked by my desk, I could kind of feel my cubicle wall shake a little bit. Nothing out of the ordinary. This is what I thought was happening until I looked around, no one was walking by me, and I could see all of the cubicle walls shaking and the look of confusion on everyone else's face. We were experiencing a minor earthquake. It was over in seconds and we all kind of laughed it off and went back to work.
I don't know what was going on in everyone else's mind, but after learning it was an earthquake, my immediate thought was "If I die sitting at the desk of this job, I am going to be SO MAD!". While the actual likelihood of a major earthquake in this area is very low (I think...!), just that jolt (literally) of reality that my demise was possible while living a life I knew wasn't for me left me with an unavoidable drive to start making some changes.
I don't know what was going on in everyone else's mind, but after learning it was an earthquake, my immediate thought was "If I die sitting at the desk of this job, I am going to be SO MAD!". While the actual likelihood of a major earthquake in this area is very low (I think...!), just that jolt (literally) of reality that my demise was possible while living a life I knew wasn't for me left me with an unavoidable drive to start making some changes.
Dizzy
And now for the most recent experience that had me feeling like death was near. This was just a couple of months after I finally left my job. I had gotten to a point that while I hadn't figured it all out, I knew I could not spend another moment of my life not doing what felt right for me. And actually, as a result of the car accident that occurred when I was 16, at 30 years old, I still had some money from a lawsuit settlement. This gave me the financial freedom to quit my job without another one lined up and to take some time off to sort myself out without worrying about money for a little while.
I had begun volunteering with school-age children helping them with their homework a few times a week and had picked up a part-time waitressing job. While getting ready for my waitressing shift one afternoon, I suddenly got extremely nauseous to the point of vomiting. I had some time so I layed down for a bit. I got up and tried to continue getting ready, only to find myself vomiting again. I called out of work and went to bed, attributing it to a stomach bug.
Long story short, my condition worsened over the next two days. Initially, doctors thought I had vertigo but when I woke up the next morning unable to see due to rapid back and forth movement in my eyes, unable to walk with extreme dizziness, nausea and vomiting I was taken for an MRI. Doctors thought it could be a brain tumor.
Luckily, it was not. It ended up being vestibular neuritis - a viral infection and inflammation of my inner ear and the nerves connecting my ears to my brain. The symptom was vertigo and the prognosis was unknown. They told me it could go away in a week, a month, a year or never. And there was nothing they could do other than give me what was essentially motion-sickness medication, which did not help. Now, keep in mind I had just quit my desk job and was working with children and waitressing. And I get sick with a virus that had me feeling dizzy upon walking and moving my head around. Fortunately, it slowly but surely went away over the course of about a month.
Sadly, and honestly, it took experiences like these to move me to discover a truly fulfilling and authentic life, with a commitment to helping other people. So if you see inspirational quotes in my Facebook timeline, or you hear me talk often about how grateful I am for so many things; or you wonder why I have chosen to bare my soul and share these stories or how I have been able to make so many changes; or if you think I'm too laid back or wonder why I don't complain much... it is because I know I have a choice in how I spend the time of my life. And that that choice can be taken away at any moment by a reckless driver, a natural disaster, a sudden illness, my own reckless actions or any other number of things. That is not to say that I live my life in fear, or that anyone should live in fear of these things. But it is a reality and I'd rather accept that reality along with my own mortality and live in the way that makes the most sense to me while I have that option.