I wanted so much for 2019 to be a memorable year.
Apparently, the Universe mistook the word ‘memorable’ for ‘discomfort.’
Back spasms that made every step I took a new adventure in pain. A dislocated thumb I had no idea how I got. Allergies that flared up when I was convinced I wasn’t allergic to anything. And, of course, there were all the complications and discomforts stemming from my heart issue.
“On a scale from one to ten,” I said more than once, “2019 sucks.”
But, maybe not as much as I thought. Or, at the very least, maybe the hidden benefits made it seek tolerable.
A few years ago, I wrote lyrics for the purpose of motivating someone I care about to stop being so sensitive and adverse to the discomforts of effort, and just get out there and show the Universe you want what you say you want…stand in direct opposition to the unpleasant feedback and reverb.
What I didn’t understand at the time was that I was outlining—prophesizing—what I would soon go through.
I’ve been saying for more years than I’m going to admit that I wanted to lose some of my unnecessary girth, but my attempts either faded and fell backwards after a brief amount of time, or just outright failed from the beginning. This past year, I noticed I was getting heavier, despite my efforts to reduce my portion sizes, but I balked (for some inexplicable reason) at taking it seriously.
My subconscious decided to get into the act. Twice within a two month span, I dreamt I was looking in a mirror at an almost completely flat stomach. In my dreams, I verbalized my impressions of what I was seeing: “How did this happen?” “I hope this is for real.” “Cool! Now, I can hit the dating scene again!”
Sometimes, there is no accounting for my subconscious’ mindsets.
Yet, I can’t say I did much to turn these images into reality.
A very short time later, lightheadedness and labored breathing talked me into doing something for myself.
The doctors explained that, because my heart was too weak to do its job to the fullest, a lot of body fluid was not getting pumped out of my body, which accounted for some of my excessive puffiness and respiratory issues.
The hospital staff did what they could to make sure my stay was as comfortable as possible.
It was the hospital itself that plotted against my comfort. The bed, in particular, was miserable beyond compare. And, I’ll pretend the kitchen staff didn’t make my grilled cheese sandwich with wheat bread and tasteless low sodium cheese.
After six straight days of a controlled diet and getting pumped full of a drug that causes the expulsion of fluids via urination, I lost over 30 pounds. My work pants that previously fit a bit too snug were now too baggy to wear without a belt. When I was getting dressed to prepare for my trip back home, I realized for the first time that much of my gut and puffiness was missing.
Kinda like what I saw in my dream.
Yeah, I suffered to get to that point. But, of course, I stepped into the pain before the suffering got any worse.
While describing my experience to that person I care about, I posed a question: do you like your current painful condition so much that you will reject putting yourself through a temporary discomfort that will lead you to where you say you want to be?
Watching how much she has been fighting since I got out of the hospital, but with an encouraged and determined smile on her face, tells me she actually listened to my advice, plus I can confirm she is doing much better. That makes me smile.