Behind Closed Doors
I took this photo from inside a Sky Train because I felt a sense of disconnect as I thought about my transition and relationships back home.
Despite wanting to pursue my goals after graduating high school, my medical issues held me back and made me feel inhibited. It was tough to talk about my struggles with anyone in my immediate environment, and I felt lonely in my relationships due to this inability to open up.
Being hospitalized created distance and disconnect from who I was before and from others, making the world feel out of reach.
Fallen Light, Rising Resilience, and Embracing Self-Worth
I took an abstract photo of a pedestrian light that was falling out of place.
It reminded me of myself as I felt powerless and weak, but the light was still glowing, and like myself – trying to show it was functional and hopeful.
However, the damage represented my perceived lowered value and that I needed to work harder to prove my competence. Having so many physical signs of poor health on my body was a constant reminder of how I was of less worth compared to others.
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.
Fear of the Future
When I set out to capture a photo of a road, I unexpectedly stumbled upon a powerful image. It was a log-covered hill, symbolizing the transition from the safety of the hospital to an unknown future.
The moss-covered log represented the risks and fears associated with leaving that safety net behind. I felt apprehensive about returning home and the lingering fear of relapse. The idea of crossing that log without support and on that slippery moss represented how fearful I was to leave the hospital but it was a crossing I had to make. The difference, however, was that I had other kinds of support from family to help make that transition easier.
Seeing this image evoked memories filled with uncertainty, anticipation, but also fear.
For Abe
Abe, my beloved cat, played a significant role in my recovery.
He provided me with that sense of normalcy and constant unconditional love. Although I longed to see him when I returned home, he had an asthma attack that initially dampened that welcome and he seemed distant with me. That did not last but an hour and he quickly became my constant companion, serving as a source of comfort during times when I felt misunderstood or alone.
While I had some many other important loving and supporting family and friends, Abe’s constant companionship and presence was that extra comfort during my healing journey.
RIP sweet boy, you are missed.
On the Outside Looking In
This photo represents how I felt upon returning home from the hospital after a life-altering experience. While my family and surroundings continued with their normal activities, I felt disconnected and misunderstood. One aspect that deeply affected me was a near-death experience, which I struggled to discuss with anyone due to fear of being misunderstood or judged. Feeling isolated, I turned to research and found solace in the Near Death Experience Research Foundation, where I could validate my experience and connect with others who had similar encounters.
Despite being grateful for being alive, I also experienced guilt for not feeling entirely happy as I navigated the lasting effects of my ordeal, further reinforcing my sense of being an outsider seeking understanding and support.
The Tracks of my Tears
Inspired by Smokey Robinson’s song “The Tracks of My Tears,” this photo convey conveys how I felt the need to wear a mask of strength and hide my true emotions upon returning home.
Despite experiencing vulnerability and emotional turmoil, I felt compelled to protect those around me and prioritize their well-being. My family, unaware of the severity of my condition, struggled to cope, and I was preoccupied with their emotions rather than addressing my own. I faced anxiety, panic attacks, and physical pain alone, unable to openly express my struggles. The transition to home was mentally challenging, with numerous medical appointments and treatments, but no medical professionals inquired about my mental well-being.
I sought mental health support independently, highlighting the importance of incorporating emotional care into the overall recovery process.
Beam of Hope
Initially, I planned to share a picture of our Christmas tree and its ornaments, symbolizing the homecoming and gratitude I felt being surrounded by loved ones. However, during a drive around the lake, I witnessed a remarkable crepuscular sunset with a beam of light reaching towards the sky.
It reminded me that my experiences, including my time in the ICU, have led me to beautiful moments and self-discovery. The picture also represents the obstacles I still faced upon returning home, but the beam of light served as a mental reminder to persevere. In addition, I felt alone during my recovery despite the support from family and nutrition, and three months later, I experienced a post-ICU episode, highlighting the facade of strength I portrayed while dealing with my challenges.
Nourishing My Recovery
In my picture, I focused on a close-up of my Tupperwares, symbolizing the importance of nourishment and organization in my recovery.
As a dietician, having filled Tupperwares with food is essential to me. However, after returning from the ICU, I struggled with organization and nourishment myself. This made me reflect on the challenges many people face in accessing nourishing meals and support during their recovery. It inspired me to overcome my own appetite issues and motivated me to become a patient partner, working on nutrition and sepsis, and creating tools to assist survivors with their diets. Nutrition plays a vital role in post-ICU recovery, and my experience highlighted its significance.
