Dancing with myself

Song

Boredom used to be a luxury I enjoyed occasionally during rare holidays at home when I didn't have 500 things to do. It felt really good to do nothing. But the day I entered the ICU, boredom became a state of being. Now, doing nothing, literally, felt absolutely awful. All day, everyday, I was alone, except for brief visits from my family. There was silence, absolute silence, except for the incessant beeping from the machines keeping me alive. But I could hear something else... something loud... something dying to get out... something dying to be heard.it was the fear building up inside me, screaming with pain. But there was no escape, no exit, no way out. I had to learn pretty quickly those fears, thoughts, questions that were haunting my every second, were locked forever inside me. I was hopelessly trapped inside myself. Instead of letting my mind self destruct, I embraced it. What I mean is that, I somehow embraced being locked inside myself. I became best friends with myself. I went dancing with my thoughts, singing with my fears, and trying to answer my own questions. I relived all of my memories, freezing them forever in my brain. Since my stroke took away everything else from me, all I had left were my memories, and I was so scared they would slip away too. With time, I was able to use a communication board with my eyes, but I could only spell out a few words. Slowly, I was able to have some semblance of a voice, but it was unintelligible to most. But one day, I got an ultimate cure to my boredom. After seven months of relative silence, I had a voice. I finally had a voice, well, kind of. With some insane technology, I was able to use a computer with a slight movement of my head. I could use email, Facebook, browse the web, play my itunes, everything, all by myself. It may not sound like a big deal, but it truly changed my life. It opened up a world of opportunity, and it opened up, me. One day, I was talking to a friend on gchat, who I hadn't talked to since my stroke, and we were having a fun conversation. I was using some of the phrases I always used, like "Otay" and "Totes" and my friend was like, "Wow, it's really you." Those four simple words really touched me. I had been dying for people to know it was still me inside my mess of a body. Now, I finally had a way to show it, and show it damn well. Then Nisha had the amazing idea to start a blog. I had spent 23 years being a math and science person, but from her brilliant idea, I blossomed into a writer. I was a mathlete and science olympian, and on my way to being a doctor, but my horrible experience, my months of introspection and my hunger to be heard, turned me into a writer. And boy, do I have a lot to say. There is something special about the written word. I haven't figured it out yet, but it allows you to be so brutally honest, much more than you would be in person. I don't know if I am writing for you or writing for me. It feels really good finally get all my thoughts, fears, and questions out there, and hopefully you all are gaining something from my experience. I remember telling my friend that all of these awful things that have happened to me and everything I've learned would all be for nothing if I didn't share it with people. So until my speech becomes normal again, I have this to show you all that it is still me, to tell you all of my secrets, and to forever open up, me.