Rediscovering Healing Beyond Reflection
The abstract photo I took was of the blinds in a library that reminded me of my past struggle of wallowing in the past and in my self-pity.
After returning home from the hospital, I couldn’t stand seeing my own reflection and had to remove all mirrors because seeing my condition influenced self-destructive behaviours. I felt like I lost my sense of self and had to rediscover who I was to adjust to life after hospitalization.
The photo represents how I blocked my own healing by repressing and living in the shadows. I made reckless attempts to regain control of my life and lost sight of what really mattered.
Isolation from Self and Others
This photo is of the student building at my university, which provides resources for therapy, student groups, and student help. I took the picture from the outside because it represents how I was too scared and ashamed to enter and seek help, so I always stayed outside, mere steps away from help.
Initially, I isolated myself to avoid judgment and triggers. But, I still received judgement from myself and those around me. I needed a healthy, kinder environment, as well as therapy, emotional support, and for my family to empathize.
Hospitals may treat physical symptoms, but the lingering emotional scars also need to be considered.
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.
Creativity at Home
During my extensive stay in the hospital, my muscle strength deteriorated, and I faced challenges in mobility. As I prepared to return home, I realized that my high bed and sofa would pose difficulties for me. However, my son, who works in construction, came up with a solution. He used large foam bricks to raise the height of the sofa by eight inches, making it easier for me to get in and out of it with my walker.
This adaptation allowed me to spend time in the living room instead of being confined to the bedroom. It was a creative solution that my son devised to facilitate my homecoming and make my recovery more comfortable.
The Support of a Sibling
The photo you see is of my sister’s hands, not mine. These hands were instrumental in my recovery journey.
While I was in the hospital (58 days) my sister provided constant support, assisted with bathing me, turning me, encouraging me when I wanted to give up and being there as my constant companion during the day, as my husband and son both had to work. When she had to leave to return to PEI for a while it was a terrifying experience not having her by my side. She did return again upon my discharge to help me at home for a couple of months. She took care of everything at home, ensuring my husband was looked after and the household chores were taken care of. The burden of not being able to do this myself was heartbreaking for me but I cannot express enough how valuable her helping hands and presence was during my recovery.
Words can never express my gratitude and love for her. She was the glue that kept my family together.
Preparing for the Storm
I am a highly organized individual, and I had everything prepared for my scheduled knee surgery, including a wheelchair.
However, three days prior to the surgery, my unexpected event occurred. I want to emphasize that if I hadn’t been prepared with all the necessary equipment and support in place, it would have been a disastrous situation. My parents were en route to help me with my knee surgery, and without them, I would have had to quickly arrange for home healthcare. The availability ofsupplies and equipment, such as a hospital bed and shower chair, made a significant difference in my ability to transition home smoothly.
I shudder to think how chaotic it would have been if I hadn’t been prepared for the knee surgery.
Niece (Jordyn): My Healing Partner
While my parents were initially present for my knee surgery, my dad had to leave after a couple of weeks, and my mom, dealing with her own PTSD, felt she had to leave as well. This left me in a state of panic, as I wasn’t ready to be alone. Considering hiring home healthcare, I realized that having strangers provide daily tasks wouldn’t offer the emotional support and family care I needed. Instead, I invited my niece, who had experience as a personal care aid, to stay with me.
She became my companion, helping with cooking and encouraging me to engage in activities outside the house, bringing much-needed enthusiasm to my recovery.
Ground Zero
This picture represents my couch, which played a significant role in my recovery journey after experiencing septic shock.
It became the central hub where I spent my days, taking care of my young child, resting, and receiving support from loved ones. Memories of that time flood back when I look at this picture, and I feel grateful for the comfort it provided. Additionally, the couch became a symbol of my determination to regain my strength and achieve my goal of surfing again.
Through daily steps, proper nutrition, and asking for help, I eventually accomplished my dream, which was visualized and imagined during my time on the couch.
Hiatus
This apron holds symbolic meaning for me, representing a pivotal moment in my recovery journey.
After a period of progress and resuming my daily responsibilities, exhaustion and emotions caught up with me, leading to a traumatic panic attack three months later. Recognizing the need for space and clarity, I took a trip to Vancouver, bringing my baby with me. This time away allowed me to reflect, reassess my priorities, and make important changes in my life, including reevaluating friendships and focusing on my health and family.
Hitting rock bottom physically and mentally ultimately led me to emerge stronger and more aligned.
