I have a history that involves two lung collapses and was diagnosed with COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease) a few years ago. In summer 2022, I found myself in intensive care after developing pneumonia and being unable to breathe. After a scary week in ICU, in which I was almost intubated, my health slowly returned, and I was able to go home after about ten days in all. I became involved with the ICU Photovoice project about six months later. I really enjoyed being involved in the Photovoice study. Sharing experiences with the other participants, people who’d been in my shoes, was very helpful in finding clarity with my own feelings. I’m a lover of photography so it was such a cool marriage of art, understanding, and healing.
What was it like going from hospital back to home?
Silent Retreat Within
While washing dishes, I noticed the angel figurine looked to me like it was hiding in the shadows off to the side.
After intensive care I retreated home, avoiding vulnerability in the presence of others. It was a bright day, despite its lack of pleasantness, mirroring the impact of my experiences on me. Though I’m not isolated and have people in my life, there are inner moments when I feel unheard or burdened by sharing my thoughts.
When I’m truly vulnerable, my instinct is always to be invisible, even though it’s not an admirable trait. So, I suppose that sums it up.
Inviting Resilience Inside
I’m embarrassed to admit that my front steps, which were once fine, have deteriorateddue to bad weather and neglect over the COVID pandemic (like me)! Raccoons have also damaged the fascia boards.
Although the weight-bearing part is secure, it looks unsafe and probably discourages visitors. Seeing this, I doubted my ability to fix it anytime soon. Certain things overwhelm me, and this recent problem with the stairs is one of them.
Hopefully, in the future, I can share pictures of the beautiful steps once they’re repaired. I live in a hundred-year-old house with narrow stairwells, and for the first time, it felt daunting to climb up to my attic bedroom. Friends have offered helpful solutions, like a tub seat for showering, as I couldn’t manage it on my own. These obstacles, temporary or not, serve as barriers, but luckily, the foundation of my house still allows me to enter and exit. It’s been a scary journey, sitting on a stool in the shower for about a month, but even though it remains challenging, I invite you inside my house.
What did you need at home to facilitate your recovery?
Adapting Home, Embracing Change
Every day on my walks, I pass by a line of trees and one of them stands out because it’s painted, while the others are not.
It made me reflect on my own experience when I had a hospital emergency and realized our lack of preparation for immobility at home. The situation was overwhelming, with firemen and paramedics arriving and asking about a do not resuscitate order. I had to leave the house in an ambulance, feeling sorry for my neighbours, who were concerned about me through the commotion.
When I returned from ICU and the hospital, I received support and kindness from friends and neighbors, but I disliked feeling different. We made adjustments at home, including a special room with air conditioning, which has become necessary for me during certain hot months.
While things have mostly returned to normal, that picture reminds me of the changes I went through and of the way my home was adaptable.
Blazing Struggles
This photo reminds me of the strange and intense feeling of life and death associated with temperature, weather, and the impact of COVID-19 on breathing. I have COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease). It has made me more fearful and cautious in how I navigate the world. Returning home from ICU and the hospital, I found solace in locking myself in an air conditioned back room, not wanting visitors due to both COVID-19 concerns and personal reasons.
The metaphor captures the sense of being on fire and encapsulates my experience during that time. For me, when it gets hot outside I begin to have trouble breathing.
How did the experience affect your mental and emotional health?
Hands Holding Hands
This picture shows me holding a sentimental object that I’ve had since childhood: my handprint immortalized in plaster at the age of six.
It was always on my mom’s dresser, and over the years, I would occasionally hold it and cover it with my hand. I took this photo because during my recent stays in the ICU, including the most recent week-long one, I found myself reflecting on my childhood memories. Despite having worked through the challenges of growing up in a dysfunctional family through counseling, I felt transported back to that childlike state of mind, bypassing the messy and difficult in-between years.
It wasn’t necessarily negative or positive, but rather a unique experience with a tinge of nostalgia and a touch of depression.
Embracing Identity in Objects
This little shelf in my kitchen holds sentimental items that reflect different moments in my life.
The piece of wood on the shelf reminds me of my time living in Eugene, Oregon when I was a child, while the canteen represents a memorable trip to Mexico. Other items, like the Good Luck Japanese cat and the little skull, hold personal significance and add a touch of aesthetic appeal. Although I identify as an optimist, I’ve also experienced depression throughout the years, making it challenging to navigate life’s ups and downs. Lastly, the hourglass on the far left symbolizes the importance of embracing purpose and helping things fulfill their intended goals. I turn over the hourglass almost every time I’m in the kitchen, not to time things, but because that’s its only purpose.
Despite its abstract nature, this shelf represents parts of who I am now.
How has this experience shaped your life?
Transforming Reflections: Resilience in Change
When I look at this old telephone pole, I see a reflection of myself.
It represents a history of messages and events, constantly changing and evolving- ripped down so new bills can take their place. All the remaining stapled and tacks remind me of the surgeries I’ve had, leaving staples in my lung and metal twist ties in my chest. At one point, I felt doomed and even started smoking despite having had heart surgery. It took time to overcome that mindset and realize there is still a future ahead, with much left to do.
Despite the challenges of depression, I understand that things can improve and life can be great again.
What is important for others to understand about life after a critical illness?
The Disco Boots
I sometimes come across shoes hanging from wires, which I find interesting and often capture in pictures. Usually the hanging shoes are ratty old runners but these “disco boots” I saw while taking a walk in my neighborhood made me laugh because they are so ridiculous.
They reminded me of my own journey in recovery from my critical illness- things can become silly and funny again. One’s present circumstances may not define the future. I’m at a point in my life now where I find a lot of things fun, something I hadn’t experienced for quite a while.
