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*Editor’s Note: Elephant is not your doctor or hospital. Our lawyers would say “this web site is not designed to, and should not be construed to provide medical advice, professional diagnosis, opinion, or treatment to you or any other individual, and is not intended as a substitute for medical or professional care and treatment. Always consult a health professional before trying out new home therapies or changing your diet.” But we can’t afford lawyers, and you knew all that. ~ Ed
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When I fell sick in 2018, and I was homebound for months, my dad visited us for a month.
He cooked, asked my husband to travel for work and have a life outside of home and a sick wife, cracked bad jokes that made us laugh (and feel annoyed), and ruined our Netflix algorithm by watching horror movies late into the night.
After Papa passed away, I said to my husband, “Who’ll help us if there is an emergency?” This has been a lingering fear at the back of my mind nicely buried under everyday responsibilities and realities. Mom has been gone for close to 11 years. I can’t imagine anyone else putting their life on hold for us.
The universe listens. And when it thinks you are ready, it tests you and reminds you of your own resilience.
A couple of weeks ago, one of my biggest fears came to life when my husband was overseas, and I was all alone at home. After a busy day of weight training, business meetings, coaching, teaching at the business school, and cooking a homely dinner, I finally sat down at around 8:30 p.m.
I am particular about scheduling self-care activities and rest in the middle of the day, especially on days when I keep long hours. Meaning, I wasn’t exhausted or burnt out. I don’t drink and I hadn’t had any dessert, so the system was clean on that fateful day. But I can’t say for sure how I was doing emotionally. It’s been a bit stressful with a few people after my father’s death, and I felt all the triggers poke me like a barbed wire that week.
I woke up in the middle of the night and looked at the clock; it was exactly 1:30 a.m. I went to the bathroom. Next thing I know, I was sweating profusely and started to feel dizzy. I held the hand towel holder with my right hand. I have no idea what transpired afterwards, but I blacked out. I don’t know how long I had been on the floor.
As I tried picking up my body from the floor, I came face-to-face with one of the scariest moments of my life: I was all alone, and I might not be able to move or call for help. Thank God for small mercies, because had I fallen two inches to the right, my head would have hit the marble tile and torn through the glass door.
I slowly walked toward the living room and grabbed a cold pack from the freezer to put it on my face and head. The left side was hurting badly. I sat on the sofa and analyzed if I needed to call 911 and go to the ER. Thankfully, nothing was broken, and my experience (from 2018) has been that there are long hours of wait in the ER. I felt beat.
Next thing I did was to “evaluate” if I needed to get to an Urgent Care. I have heard only horror stories from my friends about Urgent Care. I also knew I needed to stay up to rule out concussion.
I called up my husband, who was in the middle of a meeting and told him what had happened. He was shocked and told me was going to change his tickets and get on the first flight back to New York. He kept me company on the video call and made sure my speech was not slurry and my vision was okay. He suggested I reach out to a few people. But I was so exhausted from the fall and the pain that I told him I would message folks, not call anyone, and then take an Advil and go to bed.
By the time I woke up in the morning, my husband had changed his flight tickets, and my group of friends had offered to accompany me to the ER, hold my hands in the Urgent Care, stay with me until my husband returned to New York City, bring me food, do a sleepover so I wasn’t alone, and much more. Folks who offered to drop everything in their lives and show up for me. They made me feel supported, loved, grounded, and in community in an extreme moment of crisis.
I have seen the doctor and they have run tests to figure out what happened. I am still in pain, and my life is restricted until we find answers. But my heart is filled with optimism and gratitude. Even two weeks later, my community checks in on me to make sure I am doing okay.
Navigating the world as an adult orphan has been one of the toughest things I have had to do. You feel like you have lost both the roof above your head and the foundation that kept you anchored. But this whole episode showed me that the universe has our back and that we all also have infinite strength. Can we lean into faith…whatever that looks like to us?
>> The universe doesn’t forget anyone.
>> You are more resilient than you think.
>> Focus on those who show up instead of chasing those who ghost you.
>> Put energy into relationships that anchor, not trigger you.
>> Life is too short to forego your own happiness.
>> Keep an eye out for emotional exhaustion.
>> Don’t hang onto ghosts of friendships and relationships past.
>> Ask yourself who agitates you and who fills your heart with joy.
>> You owe yourself nourishment.
I know I am not alone in my fears and gratitude. As an Ayurvedic Doctor I constantly see the damage unprocessed emotions and grief (loss of a loved one, health, job, relationship, opportunity) can do. So, I wanted to share this story to remind each one of us that life will keep happening whether we like it or not. And our hearts will hurt every so often.
Don’t lose your softness, but be okay with naming what feels sick in your life. You have the chance to walk away from it and build a nourishing community while also knowing that you are enough.
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