Heatherina

Mama I’m coming home

Vacations are so strangely paradoxical.

Have you ever noticed how you count down the days to a vacation? You see it as a break, time off for relaxation, meditation, rejuvenation. But everyone has a tendency to pack so much into their vacation, that when you return, usually you need a couple of days to recover from your relaxation.

Going home is always nice. I’ve now started to get the same feeling of comfort at Jesse’s parents that I do at my own. You start to breathe a bit easier at the sight of your hometown and everything familiar. I was kind of amazed that I started to have that same sort of feeling in a place that isn’t my actual hometown, and really somewhere I haven’t been millions of times. I think it is just the feeling of safety that comes from being around both sets of our parents. They are similar in many ways and different in equally as many ways. But both sets of parents are very laid-back and yet ferociously caring. I always get the sense that nothing can go wrong there. Our mothers are too protective. They always go out of their way to make sure that I have absolutely everything I need and that I’m well taken care of. Really, they both spoil me horribly. Being upstate I always feel like I’m wrapped in some sort of bubble-wrap; in a cocoon of safety and love.

However, I also usually feel like a show-horse. When I go to Jesse’s (who is from a very small town where everyone knows one another), there is usually someone new to meet from his childhood. When I go to my parents’ home there are close family friends and family who want to be filled in on my life. I used to feel like I was being pranced around and shown off… by my parents who are insanely proud of me, and by his parents who are equally as proud of him. This time, there wasn’t really that pressure. Only certain people were allowed to see me and there were strong rules in place to protect me. No crowds, nobody who was even remotely sick, no one who would ask too many questions. Only a small amount of healthy people who really cared.

The previous post was an excerpt of a song that I used to like in high school called “Freak on a Leash.” I never liked the band, Korn, but I liked that particular song. I felt a little bit like a freak on a leash this time. I could see my family holding back tears as they hugged me. I could see the fragile way people treated me, with kid-gloves. Offering an arm to help me walk. Jumping up to get things for me. Encouraging me to put my feet up and “just relax and rest.” And while I appreciate how caring everyone is, it can be heart-breaking at the same time.

When anyone asks me how I’m feeling, I usually try to explain it in something other than a list of symptoms. But I also try to be more specific that just saying “I’m getting better.” It’s so vague… and considering how bad I’ve been before, it’s certainly not saying much. So, I thought a lot during the drive upstate about how I was going to handle those inevitable questions that were bound to be asked.

So here it is… I am a shadow of Heather. Of my former self; who is the person that most people grew to know and love. I’m at 70 percent. There are just certain parts of me that are very lacking: energy, drive, stamina. It is harder for me to laugh, not because things aren’t funny, but because boisterous laughter takes so much energy. There are times when I’m too tired to talk. I tend to stay a step behind so I’m not in the spotlight. I am so thankful to be from a family of natural performers who are willing to jump in and be the center of attention, the driver of conversations or the life of the party. Both of my parents have the unique gift of being able to talk to anybody, so when my voice was too tired and my mind too frazzled, they would jump in and take over; filling in the gaps.

I’m really glad I got to see everyone, but the highlights had to be Jessica and Katrina. Jessica is one of my best friends from high school and also one of my favorite caretakers. She is a nurse in the thoracic ICU and has seen me at my worst more times than I can count- both emotionally and physically. Nothing scares her anymore and she has an amazing way of treating me like everything is completely normal even while she is taking care of me. I usually don’t notice that she’s taking care of me because she just acts like nothing is wrong. When we went to dinner she had already set everything up so I didn’t notice that we went through a special entrance with an elevator and they set up a table where there was a place to lean my cane, which was all ready so I didn’t have to stand for too long when we arrived. And she just acts like everything is perfectly normal, like always. It was so nice to feel like old Heather again… even just for an hour.

My cousin Katrina. Our relationship over the years growing up was always… interesting. Not necessarily bad, but we were never particularly close. But recently she became a mom, to a beautiful little miracle named Sophia. She has grown up so much in the short time that she’s had her baby. It was really amazing to watch her and to see how naturally she took to motherhood. Children are such wonderful sources of joy. Sophia’s smile could melt even the coldest of hearts.  Change is scary. Motherhood is scary, and she had extra challenges facing her. But she met her challenge head-on, always with a positive spirit and is thriving now. I was really inspired by Katrina and I felt more connected to her than I have before. I can’t be a shrinking violet. I have to face this head-on and not be afraid. I can do it. It’s in my genes, my blood.

It was so nice to go home, and it’s just as nice to be back in my own home. Jesse and I are building a life, one that I’m not ready to check out of yet. So, enough being afraid and panicking about the scans that I have to face. Tonight, as I rest from my time of rest, I will be kept warm by a blanket of love. Still a bit invincible from my time in the cocoon. Moving forward, while still knowing that I can always go back home again.