The past two years have been quite interesting, well interesting now that I reflect on it. In 2015 I had a minor stroke that meant I couldn’t stand, walk, I experienced really bad vertigo and I didn’t eat for three whole days…and trust me I loooooove to eat lol
I spent three days in bed because I thought I just had a random illness but once that third day came I knew something was wrong. I went to the doctors, they thought it was meningitis and referred me to the hospital. Dad took me there and they hooked me up to an IV, did some strength tests and took my bloods. Dad left cause he’d been waiting around for ages and the doctors hadn’t come back with blood test results. I told him I’d call once I heard back.
I had a CT scan, and was assigned to an overnight room. I messaged my niece and my best friend and told them I was in the hospital. Not sure what was happening but I’d keep them updated. Best friend/bro came to visit and we just hang out. The doctor came in and told me that I had a minor stroke…everything after that just didn’t register with me. The doctor was still talking and but I heard nothing. Everything I knew about strokes I had learnt at my family members funerals. They all had a stroke, got better and then died. I was so happy my bro was there cause he heard everything the doctor said, cause I didn’t hear anything, I was in shock.
I messaged my family what happened. Now if you know me personally, you know that my parents don’t really say “I love you” very often. Not because they don’t love us, but our love to one another is shown more in our actions then in words. That night I texted my mum and my niece. My niece updates the rest of our family, and my mum replies and says “we’ll bring a charger in the morning. I love you. Mum and Dad”. To me, I felt like that was my mum sharing the same feelings I was having, I’m not gonna see my family in the morning. My phone died as my family was asking whether I was ok, my bro had to leave cause visiting hours were done and I’m alone in the hospital.
I remember praying…more like begging God to just give me a day to say goodbye. And if he couldn’t to make sure my family knew how much I love them. To fill their hearts with as much as love as he could so that they knew how much love I had for every single one of them. I whole heartedly believed that I was going to die alone and afraid in a hospital bed. Thankfully Gods grace exceeds my minds expectations and here I am 2 years later living, walking, breathing and happy. Not afraid to say I love you to my family and showing love to myself.
After recovery I did go into a depression of sorts where I just felt like damaged goods, and in a way I treated myself like damaged goods. But overtime I realised I am worth more than this, and I should value my second chance more than I am. But that experience on that first night in the hospital changed so much for me. Before then I would work to make money, my goal in life was to follow my siblings in their drive for success. Successful marriage, family, career, quick progression up the corporate ladder. I wanted to work for the title of being successful…that’s not to say that my siblings are doing the same they’re achieving their goals and I couldn’t be any more proud of them. They each deserve the success they have worked so hard to gain.
But that night when I was begging God for a second day, the last thing that came to my mind was money, it was my family. After reflecting over that for 2 years, I don’t have the same drive anymore. I want to live a life where there are more memories then there is money. I’ve thought of what life for them might be like after I died, and I realised that I wanted them to be able to sit at the dinner table during Christmas, without me there, and still feel my presence. Say the things I would say during a conversation, crack the same jokes, laugh, drink and just know that I’m there. I wanted that for everyone in my life but mainly for my family. Money will give my family temporary relief, but the small reminders of me will not bring them comfort. I want them to still smile through the pain.
That alone has changed how I see everything now. I smile more, I’m a bit more spontaneous, I’m unashamed of the activities and things I love and I do my best to interact with my family as much as I can. It’s all a work in progress, like the happiness levels can only really go up. I want to live a happy life and have that happiness be shared with everyone once I’ve passed. If I’m honest, this “close” brush with death has shifted my perspective in the best possible way, I’m actually taking care of myself, my spirit, and my heart. Financial stability isn’t as important anymore, it’s like fourth on the list. God, Family, Myself and then Money, because that’s what’s important once you’ve died, God, family, yourself and then money.