Two of the young have touched me in the last couple days; one I know and one I do not.
The known- my adult son shortly will mark two years sobriety. He has had a road with rocks, turns, twists, ravines, downright ditches. He has had some dark days in his thirty some years, but now - he has a family, he is succeeding at a wonderful job, he's been promoted, he's been victorious over a rotten gene pool. He is sober. I am both relieved and proud.
The second is a 17 year old whose mother I happened to "e-meet" on the Sudden Cardiac Arrest website. Her 17 year old boy survived SCA with limited damage. He is struggling with all the adjustments; he has had to give up his sports passion, he cannot participate in the contact sports he loves.
He is furious; he is furious with his doctors, at his situation, at his implanted defibrillator. I ache for him; he is so pissed; he sees the ICD not as a lifesaver but somehow as the cause of his new limitations. He has threatened to find a doctor who will remove the defibrillator when he turns 18.
I empathize with him and with his terrified mother. It's awful to feel the loss of control, the cold icy fear about the SCA having happened and the ever-present dull dread that it may happen again. I know we survivors should all be grateful and many days I am. But there are days of being so pissed off, we need not to talk to people; we need to keep that rage contained.
I struggle and I have the skills and experience of an adult. Even so, this has certainly been the most difficult challenge of my life. I ache for the young man who has to cope with this, to wrestle it to the ground at 17 - the world is black and white, the skills are limited, the impulses are huge, lashing out feels wonderful if only for a minute.
These two young men gave me pause.
Showing posts with label ICD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ICD. Show all posts
Monday, January 10, 2011
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
New Normal
I have received some wonderful responses from others who are grappling with having survived this or some other near-death experience. With mine, based on what I know so far, you survive or not based on one thing - how long it takes to get shocked with paddles. And now, with a "personal defibrillator" in my chest, I have adjustments to make.
Adjusting to the fact that something close to sheer luck has me alive with minimal consequences; I can find little to no data on the likelihood of recurrence; I don't know yet what it will be like for the device to "fire", though I have heard it is decidedly unpleasant.
Finding my "new normal".
Labels:
defibrillator,
ICD,
near-death,
normal
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