Finding my way back

Its been awhile since I last blogged. A combination of being so busy and so sick that neither allowed me coupled with that I seemed to have so much to write about that I eventually ended up leaving it all there just in my thoughts.

It is recovery from my recent hospitalisation which brings me back to the screens of my blogging again. This morning I read something inspirational.

I spent days after coming home from a all too lengthy hospital stay, in bed. I was not able to stand unaided and without a visit to the floor and I was no further than my bathroom, a mere couple of steps from my bedroom. I had not eaten anything besides yogisip and a couple of spoons of soup, lovingly fed by my husband. I had not felt the sun on my face or felt the chill on my skin which everyone had told me about.

I realised that 10 days had gone by and that it was almost the middle of a ramadaan that I had not had the opportunity to experience. I thought about the many things that I had missed out on and that I was continuing to. Not for a lack of trying as my every attempt from my mind to leave the confines of my bed was met with every attempt from my body telling me that I had to stay and recover.

That I discovered that I had the start of what was bedsores, something which my mind had conjured up to be something that I cant verbalise when in fact all it was was redness from laying in bed too long.

So I lay in bed my mind racing, reflecting and contemplating my fate when I read an email from someone I had never met telling me that she found inspiration in my blog and I thought well maybe I could do with some of that. So I read my own blog and then the blog of another survivor and I felt an inexplicable sense of enlightenment to the fact that I have been through much worse that in fact It would get better. So I made my way struggling with every step and found that my body had healed a little and so with every step my mind was healing as well.

Then my daughter who is 8 came home from school and with her usual enthusiasm told me about Ramadaan and I realised that I had not missed it, that it was still here all around me and that through her eyes I was seeing it and through my heart I was feeling it. That although I was unable to fast and partake in the activities around that, I was with my family at every suhoor as they were with me in hospital. That we never really leave the ones we love its just a matter of proximity.

That in experiencing the start of bedsores, I was healing that in my mind contemplating my fate from being told " you are incurable" one to many times that I was finding a way back again. That every day I was in bed, I was surviving another. That Ramadaan was about sacrifice and peace and somewhere in between, drips and feeling like I had lost all sanity, I was sacrificing more than I knew and I had found such peace. That although today I was contemplating my fate, I was again accepting it.

So I managed my way outside and soaked in the last few rays the sun had to offer and I let the chill of the air surround me but not envelope me. As I was warmed by the new realisations filled with hope and opportunities which presented itself, clearer and louder with every thought. And finding my way back was a beautiful journey on its own.