S
Statius
Guest
I have been having a strange month. In mid-March, whilst my mind was mostly on work, choir practice for Easter and my forthcoming reception into the Church, a pre-existing heart condition flared up fairly spectacularly, and I was taken into hospital with blue flashing lights and sirens. I had a heart rate of 250, and whilst I was not in pain, I did know something was going pretty badly wrong. I asked a friend to get me a priest, who took care of me, and then they knocked me out and shocked my heart back into a normal rhythm.
I was made comfortable and didn’t really feel too bad, and they intended to keep me in for observation then release me within 48 hours, but the evening after my first attack I had a second, more problematic one. I lay there, at the centre of noise and flashing lights as doctors and nurses tried to stabilise me, and when they knocked me out that time, as I sank into unconsciousness, I (and my doctors) wondered if I would be waking up again. It feels very melodramatic in hindsight, but I even commended my soul to God.
I did wake up, and not without regret, as I had a horrible night, and a fairly unpleasant few days festooned with wires and tubes. I was transferred to a specialist hospital the next day and within a week had been fitted with an implanted cardioversion defibrilator, which is sort of like a pacemaker. I was released a week before Holy Week, and I was just about well enough to attend my confirmation, reception and first holy communion.
I’m currently off work, staying with my parents (I’m 25) and waiting for the date for my next operation, which should be in the next couple of weeks and will be to fix my tricuspid valve, which is part of the underlying problem.
It should all be a memento mori. I feel as if it should have had a profound effect on me. Instead, after an initial period of gratitude and reflection, which lasted as long as I was in hospital, I feel drained of interest in my spiritual and prayer life. I have too much time on my hands, I get grumpy with my parents and my usual routines have gone, replaced with just pottering aimlessly through the day. I am my old self, but with more time to think about life and my imperfections, and this just makes me feel bad and a little down. I enjoyed my reception, but after months of anticipation, I was tired, ill prepared and, whilst I did enjoy it, I feel underwhelmed by the whole experience.
Perhaps I just expect too much - I find myself considering St. Paul’s conversion with a certain jealousy. It seems so simple to be blinded in a moment and forever changed, and much harder to have to work through your conversion day by day. I know this is a bit ridiculous, but it’s a hard idea to shift.
I’d like to talk about it, but being in my home town rather than my usual place of residence, most of my friends are elsewhere and I certainly can’t discuss it usefully with my atheist family. People get uncomfortable when I mention the possibility of death. I would like to speak to my priest about it, and I’m sure he will be helpful, but I do wonder if there’s anyone else who has found themselves in a similar position.
I was made comfortable and didn’t really feel too bad, and they intended to keep me in for observation then release me within 48 hours, but the evening after my first attack I had a second, more problematic one. I lay there, at the centre of noise and flashing lights as doctors and nurses tried to stabilise me, and when they knocked me out that time, as I sank into unconsciousness, I (and my doctors) wondered if I would be waking up again. It feels very melodramatic in hindsight, but I even commended my soul to God.
I did wake up, and not without regret, as I had a horrible night, and a fairly unpleasant few days festooned with wires and tubes. I was transferred to a specialist hospital the next day and within a week had been fitted with an implanted cardioversion defibrilator, which is sort of like a pacemaker. I was released a week before Holy Week, and I was just about well enough to attend my confirmation, reception and first holy communion.
I’m currently off work, staying with my parents (I’m 25) and waiting for the date for my next operation, which should be in the next couple of weeks and will be to fix my tricuspid valve, which is part of the underlying problem.
It should all be a memento mori. I feel as if it should have had a profound effect on me. Instead, after an initial period of gratitude and reflection, which lasted as long as I was in hospital, I feel drained of interest in my spiritual and prayer life. I have too much time on my hands, I get grumpy with my parents and my usual routines have gone, replaced with just pottering aimlessly through the day. I am my old self, but with more time to think about life and my imperfections, and this just makes me feel bad and a little down. I enjoyed my reception, but after months of anticipation, I was tired, ill prepared and, whilst I did enjoy it, I feel underwhelmed by the whole experience.
Perhaps I just expect too much - I find myself considering St. Paul’s conversion with a certain jealousy. It seems so simple to be blinded in a moment and forever changed, and much harder to have to work through your conversion day by day. I know this is a bit ridiculous, but it’s a hard idea to shift.
I’d like to talk about it, but being in my home town rather than my usual place of residence, most of my friends are elsewhere and I certainly can’t discuss it usefully with my atheist family. People get uncomfortable when I mention the possibility of death. I would like to speak to my priest about it, and I’m sure he will be helpful, but I do wonder if there’s anyone else who has found themselves in a similar position.