The Philosophical Phenomenon

Well, yoga tonight was more of the same if not worse. All of a sudden during warrior pose I felt like I was going to pass out and I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t doing any sun salutations or anything remotely challenging, nothing straining. I think my bloated belly was just pushing up on my lungs and I couldn’t breathe. So, I stopped. Unlike the day before I was ok with it. I also struggle with yoga and finding my breath, it’s so much about that that I feel like I’m doing it wro

Tonight was hard, really hard. I would have sworn this would get easier but maybe with my health problems that’s just not possible for me right now. I’m trying to do the easiest videos I can find. I often do night time “relaxing” flows, but even those I can’t make it through. After doing some cat-cows I basically sat on my mat trying not to cry. I’m usually not a crier, but since my dad passed away in November I feel like tears are so easy to come by. I know everyone says tea

Tonight I was dreading making it to my mat. I spent part of my afternoon on my mat going through old art sketches and writings. This is where I feel I strive in life. I’m creative. I’m good at creating things. However, I’m not great at creating shapes with my body. I’m working on it. It’s so frustrating because I used to be really good at moving my body. I was little, but I was strong. Now I’m just little and weak. I can’t hold poses, I can’t do tons of push ups, or squats, o

When we are scared we have three reactions, fight, flight, or freeze. I’ve always been a fighter. I’ve always been stubborn and a know-it-all. I felt I had deserved the right to have control over my body, to make decisions over my body. I had spent my life asking questions and learning about my myself and my disease. Many times I have thought I knew more than the doctors taking care of me. I have always depended on myself to know what’s best for me, and I don’t often listen i

I always knew my physical body was just a vessel for my soul, carrying it, keeping it safe. I’ve often thought over the years how our consciousness is like an alien being attached to our human host; however, some of the human bodies we inhabit seem to work better than others. We can survive on this planet as an animal, as a human, but what about after our consciousness leaves our body behind? Will we no longer be bound by earthly things? Do we attach ourselves to some new bod

I just wanted to give everyone an update... I'm feeling better overall, I do have another empyema (not to be confused with the Empanada). Which is basically little sacks inside my lung that are filled with infection. Seems like the infection is contained within the sacks, but I'm not sure... I guess I ask fewer questions than I used to. *I'm not sure if I like that or not* Anyway, I slept for a few days and now my flu-like symptoms are completely gone... that's a major plus.

I think when a person allows themselves to feel vulnerability they start to understand that even if they want to they can’t do everything on their own in life. I’ve had to trust total strangers more times than I care to admit, doctors, in emergent situations, surgeries, etc. Having surgery a few days ago I was writing about the experience before I went into the procedure room. I stopped writing quite abruptly as the relaxation medications took me to a place of complete calm a

The helicopter is roaring in again - 4:30 am. I’m proud because I think I slept a solid four hours in a row last night and I’m sort of awake now. Awake and listening to the multi-level sounds in my room. It’s dark in here other than the phone screen, which I’m sure is terrible for my eyes. There’s my shallow breathing because I haven’t built my diaphragm up. I can’t say rebuild, I never really had to use it before, was never really able to. Then the copter is flying overhead.

I was sitting in the hospital trying to think of how to write about the experience that changed my life three years ago. However, I think I have decided I should write about how my life has changed recently. Currently, I sit in my ICU bed, looking out at all the doctors who are talking about me during their rounding this morning. I’m not sure I can see all of them, but there are at least 10-12 medical professionals. At least they offered to do it with the door open so I could

For the majority of my life, I never told anyone I had a genetic life-threatening illness. As a child, everyone knew but through my teens and beyond I stopped talking about it. I was living double lives - most literally at some points in my life - I was someone at home and someone entirely different when I was out. For years my co-workers and best friends didn't know there was anything wrong with me. I would go into the hospital and tell everyone I worked with I was going on