Three years ago today I came face to face with death. So I took a picture with my Blackberry phone while the nurses where not looking.
I wasn’t suppose to have the phone in ER, but I couldn’t part with it. The details of how I got there isn’t important. Lets just say that I should have taken much better care of myself. And now three years later, my memory of that day has become a little fuzzy. It plays in my mind like someone else’s story. It doesn’t seem as intense now and maybe not as close to the precipice.
In the three years I’ve taken much better care of myself. My blood sugar is under control, my weight is down and I’ve been exercising regularly. I feel stronger, but older.
How has this changed me? In many ways it has not. I’m writing this at 3:45am, just finished a couple of hours of work for a client. I’ve promised myself that I would not work this way again, however a zebra cannot change its stripes. I’ve always been adventurous, but recently with surfing and other activities to push the envelope, I’m fairly certain this has made me an excitement junky.
Jack cracking me up in the ER
I doubt I will ever really learn and perhaps I need someone else to really push me to conquer my last fear.
I’m not afraid of dying. I’m afraid to not live.
So tomorrow I’ll begin again.
Today I thank:
Kelli for saving my life
Jack for seeing me through it
Mom and Dave for holding strong
Terri for teaching me to live again.
Best shape of my life. Not bad for 38!