I will stay with you

(title for chaya and rajul ) when i was younger, i used to have this kind of morbid/kind of twisted dream about my funeral. i never thought about the actual dying part, but about who would come to my funeral. i was kind of cursed and blessed to actually witness my "funeral". but this time,i really wanted to know what people really thought, i wondered what they were thinking when they saw me. i think that everyone who visited me got the same memo; to just walk in my room, smile, and tell me i looked beautiful. but that was perfect because at that time i needed everyone around me to be strong. but after a while, i started to get confused. i was still so shocked, exasperated, horrified, frustrated and in utter disbelief as to what happened to me. but everyone else seemed fine with what happened it was as if they had already accepted what had happened, and since i was getting better, they were all fine with it. but i thought there was nothing fine about it! then one day friend from high school came to visit me. i dont think he had gotten the memo so he was just real with me. he said, "man this really sucks. i can't believe this happened to you". wow i was so thrilled to hear those few words. it was so validating to know someone else was still shocked and upset like me. so over the next few months, through emails, chats, and essays people wrote about this, i had glimpses into how people really felt about this. sometimes it nice and refreshing for someone to be real . while it is also sometimes nice to ignore the enormous elephant in the room and keep conversations light so i can feel happy and normal for a minute, it is also really validating to hear how people really feel. this awful thing has caused me to feel every kind of emotion, so it
feels good to know it makes other people feel something. it makes me feel less alone. the other day, i got an email from my med school friend who did just that, he said...
"Each time i see you, each time i think about you, i have the same overwhelming feeling that everyone around you, all your friends and family, probably have too - this intense wish that i could do something to make it all better right now, instantly. I wish i could gather up a hundred or thousand people and each of us could divide up the muscles that still haven't awoken, and carry them with us until they do. I'd take that left hand and give you mine. I'm sure my Mom would take some erector spinae muscles. And we could just leave you perfect, back to baseline, and all hundred or thousand of us could carry those sleepy muscles so you wouldn't have to."
it was amazing, powerful, and best of all, real. he was frustrated with this too and really wished he could help. i know i have to fight this battle ultimately by myself, but with you all staying with me, im sure as hell, not alone.

Here I go again on my own

april 30, 2009. i had been dreading this day for months. i couldnt believe this inevitable day was approaching rapidly. i was hoping time would just slow down just a little. but april 30 regretably came, and i had to leave the hospital and go home...most people would be so thrilled to go home especially after 5 whole months in the freaking hospital, but i wasnt most people...the hospital was like a buffer, a refuge from the real world. you were supposed to be sick in a hospital. i knew and feared the fact that i would be going from a sick girl at the hospital to a disabled girl at home. (the former implies a more temporary state, the latter sounds worse). the reality of how different my life was going to be came crashing down like a wave that engulfed me and left me drowning in fears. the renovations to our house, the hired helpers, all the new equipment we needed... going home was making me feel the full, horrible longterm effects of a stroke. and the nightmare i had in the ICU began teasing me with its inevitability: becoming a burden at home...but i went home, and i didnt become a burden. i did hate being a stroke victim in the real world, but i also discovered the perks of being home. but i also discovered the worst part of moving home. i became alone. in the hospital, there were at least 60 other patients who could somewhat understand what i was going through, and nurses and doctors had to be there around the clock. in this new world everyone got to leave my reality, except me. in the hospital, i seemed to be in more serious danger, so i got cards, flowers and visitors everyday. but my 'honeymoon' period was over. my family went back to work, my friends went back to school, and i was left behind...i know people want to be there, but everyone has to move on and get back to their own lives. everyone gets to leave this. people get to literally and figuratively leave this. you can even stop reading this if it gets too heavy. but I can't stop living this . my every second , my every minute , my every hour , my every day, this is my reality. the only constant in my life, is me. only now, stronger and braver than before. and as biggie said, "I'm living life without fear" this is my battle, and i'm fighting it fearlessly.

everything i do, i do it for you

back to the ever pressing, ever infamous, ever mysterious question of WHY?! why why why did this happen to me? maybe if i ask enough, i'll get an answer... i had enough good karma in me to start a car, no, a truck, but the arguably worst thing in the world happened to me anyway. everything i believed to be true in the world, was absolutely false. now im just left with enough bitterness to fly a plane. maybe it was because i needed a second chance at life? ive thought about this question over and over, and given the chance to lead my life differently, i wouldnt change a single freaking thing about my life (except maybe i would wear more purple... i recently decided purple is the new pink.) i was living the dream. i was pursuing my goal of becoming a doctor, i was close to my family, i had a full social life, and i was happy. i have considered every possible outcome of all this, from going down in science history to becoming a world renowned author, and nothing, i mean NOTHING, could happen that would even slightly make this worth it. even if i become a billionaire, on the cover of forbes magazine, smiling next to oprah and the queen, (what up oprah!), still, this wouldnt be worth enduring at all. sigh. i have no doubt good will come of this, but no lesson or outcome will satisfy the question of why... so ive given up on asking that question. maybe, if im not going to gain anything from this, you all can gain something from this? sounds weird but it is kind of fitting. my whole entire life was always dedicated to other people, my family, friends, people i served. and now this suffering might all be for other people. my story might help advance the health field, my story can provide hope to patients in similar situations, and hopefully my story can motivate you all. it gives all this suffering some meaning, right? now, immediately after a tragedy hits close to home, people realize 'wow, life is short,' 'carpe diem,' 'live life to the fullest,' etc, but people soon forget their new found epiphanies, so i wont really motivate you by telling you that. instead i'll share with you all something diana told me succinctly and powerfully at a tailgate in '06, "MAN UP!!" seriously, if i can somehow handle or deal with my awful situation, you all have no excuse not to deal with the problems or obstacles in your way. basically, if i can do it, you can do it. MAN UP. as coach taylor says on the best show ever, friday night lights, 'clear eyes, full hearts, cant lose.' if i wont lose, you wont lose.

i believe i can fly

it was hard to have hope... really hard...pretty much impossible. i had just almost died. my entire life had been ripped away from me in an instant. i was terrified and alone. i could barely even believe in tomorrow, how was i supposed to believe in a future, a BETTER future? people kept telling me if i believed and had faith, i would get better. that line killed me. i deeply wanted to be hopeful and positive but i really couldnt. so then, i felt that if i didnt get better, it would be my fault, because i didnt believe enough. this guilt consumed me. 'well, this one person who was really sick, just decided to believe they would get better, and they did! right away!' people loved to tell me these stories to maybe encourage me? but instead, they just made me want to scream. life wasnt that simple. i wanted to say, have those people call me when theyve had a stroke and locked in syndrome. all i was capable of doing and all i wanted to do was to wake up every morning, get out of bed and work like I had never worked before. though I felt guilty every day, that would have to be enough. i was watching joel osteen the other day (mainly because my mom made me, i swear!). he says a lot of god is great stuff or jesus is the man type stuff, but if you listen closely, he says some profound and interesting things. he was saying how every person around you needs to encourage and believe in your dreams. he was also saying that the people you look up to have the ability to speak words that are so powerful to you. i realized that is how i got through it. the people around me were positive for me! though i couldnt believe myself, every person around me believed it for me. They had enough faith and optimism to make up for my pessimism. and i appreciate all the people who were brave enough to say things to me that were so positive and powerful, even before the doctors would say anything. I remember this one older med student, who I have always respected for her poise and intelligence, was saying something about me returning to medical school. though i couldnt say anything yet and couldnt even break a smile, every part of me was smiling inside. if she, the smartest girl ever, believed i was coming back to school, then i had to believe i was! then another teacher from med school, only a few weeks after my accident, through all my tears, she said 'this will all make you a better doctor.' for some reason, those words, since they were spoken so early on, were so powerful to me and always stuck with me. finally, i remember, one day my resident came in the room. i was visibly upset and my mom said, 'what do i do, she doesn't believe good things will happen.' My resident responded, ' well, whether you believe it or not, everything will be happening to you anyway!' what an epiphany, the burden i had been carrying for months was finally taken off my back. the guilt that was consuming me finally melted away. i could just let everyone around me be positive and believe in my dreams for me, and i could just concentrate on working hard every day. that would definitely be enough. so no, i definitely don't believe i can fly, i just really need you to believe that i can.

call on meeeee, call on me

drum roll please...I CAN TEXT!!!!!!! you all know that is secretly and sadly, one of my top priorities in life hehe. it is slow and difficult but it is completely by myself, which is all that really matters! im using my old phone, my crazy krazer, with my normal number. i hold the phone with my left hand and type with the middle finger of my right. my finger gets tired so i dont know if i will respond everytime! i already texted a few people because i knew it would be a weird/wonderful surprise for people to see my name pop up in their inbox! next goal - being able to TALK to you on the phone!

its gonna be me

i love(d) running. no really, i did! i enjoyed working out, and even found time to do it in med school! and i was pretty health conscious (that was sometimes an understatement...ask megan...vegetables with a side of vegetables anyone?). so, all that combined, i was in pretty good shape. and then, i had my stroke. within a few days, i was unrecognizable. i saw my legs which were muscular just a few days ago, were now toothpicks, skin and bones. i felt like the insides of my limbs were sucked out. it was like all my muscles had dissolved overnight. my body just felt like a useless pile. gross. i thought things would change once i started eating. but pureed eggs, pureed peas, and pureed pinto beans that i forced down didnt do anything but make me vomit. maybe things would be different? after months of practicing swallowing, failing 3 or 4 swallow studies (yes, first test i ever failed), and having no hope of swallowing normally zgain, i passed my swallow study! i got my last artificial attachment out, my PEG tube, and i could have regular food and drink. i shouldve felt more normal, right? false. i was filling up on pasta and pizza, but i felt and looked so empty. i realized my muscles werent just hidden, they were all gone... and i would have to start from scratch. and it was really from scratch...my first evaluation, every single muscle, from my head down to my toes, was rated as a zero out of five. so my therapists and i, not knowing where to start, went to work. for 6 hrs a day for 5 months, i worked, trying to reignite these lifeless limbs. by the time i left the hospital, every single was at least a one out of five, meaning they had all turned on! so my next goal was to make them stronger. though my muscles had turned on, i still looked deflated. i knew i had A LOT of work ahead... now, a few days ago, my good friend manoj was here. he casually said, 'u look good, do u work out?" i laughed because i was thinking, 'yea, obvi, only every second everyday!' but it really got me thinking. ever since the stroke, ive looked sick, weak, and emaciated, but never good. while i was thinking about this later on, i had reached out to grab my armrest and pull me over. i looked down and there i saw it....a bicep! i could see a little muscle belly poking through! though i definitely still have a lot of work, my hair is still wild, and im paler than my white, eminem-esque trainer, the real me is slowly poking through. so eventually, totally and completely, from head to toe, its gonna be me.

will you be there?

let me share with you all a little story. not because it ties in perfectly with my blog, but because its a really cute story! the other day, i was watching tv with my nani (grandmother). she was telling me about how back in her day, no one ever said "i love you" to each other. so, for as long as she could remember, her husband never once told her he loved her. but she never had any doubt in her mind that he loved her like crazy. she saw it in his every action, everyday... it is such a simple story, but so profound. do actions speak louder than words? by some stroke of luck, i have become somewhat of a writer, so i do believe words have power. maybe our hearts fall for words, but our minds need something more, some action, some evidence, some proof. i guess that was how i was. yes, i was so vulnerable to what people said, but sometimes, that wasnt enough. whether it was because i didnt fully trust people, or their words were too good to be true, i needed more than just their words. the doctors and everyone began to be more positive and optimistic to me. some were saying i would get all better, i would walk again, i would do everything again. i shouldve been ecstatic, right? that was exactly the news i had been dreaming of hearing for months. but i wasnt ecstatic at all, i was crying. to me, they were just words, words that sounded way too good to be true. where was the evidence, where was the proof?!?... lets just say, im still waiting for that proof. another phrase i kept hearing a lot was not from my doctors, but from my friends. i kept hearing people say they would be there for me through everything. but what did that mean? yes people were all there then because i had just had my injury, but i thought, what about in a few months or a few years. i feared the worst. i knew the novelty of being a sick persons friend would wear off and people would get back to their own lives. i kept hearing these words of support from people, which shouldve comforted me, but instead, scared me. they were just words, i needed proof. this time, i got ALL the proof i ever needed, and then some. some of you may know my best friend rajul. we met while we were still in the womb (literally! our moms were best friends and were pregnant together). and now 25 years later, we are still best friends, two souls, but one heart, and about a million inside jokes. she was visiting one day and told me she had a surprise for me. she then turned around, lifted up the back of her shirt, and what i saw left me awestruck. it was a tatoo, of my name, written in hindi. wow. i instantly knew then that my friends werent going anywhere. rajul was saying through that, that she was sticking with me forever, no matter how old and grumpy i get (or rich and famous)! to me, it meant i was worth sticking around for, and i really needed to realize that...so, now i ask you,
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?