August 7th, 2022. It’s just a day to most of you, but to me it’s the day life changed. It’s the day the after began. I had no idea at the time it was the day the after began. I don’t think we ever do. It would be nice if the Universe or our horoscope or something could give us a hint like “Head’s up, today’s the day it’s all going to blow up, so buckle up buttercup. All I knew was a pink line lit up on a Covid test, that I felt like garbage, and that getting Covid 2 9 days before school started was really not an optimal time to be sick. In hindsight I am thankful in that moment and in the days to come I had no idea where the journey would lead and that I naively believed I’d be back to work in 5 days and move on with life. Oh, how wrong I was.

As “the day” gets close I have of course been reflecting on my journey over the last 3 years and while August 7th was the start of the journey there are many days along my journey that have been just as monumental and impactful. I don’t know what one calls the day their life began to blow up. I’m thinking shit show-versary, hot mess holiday, and/or the day normal left the building are all names that fit. It’s interesting this year because as the day gets closer I don’t feel the same level of doom and gloom I have the previous 2 years. Side note: Grief is a sneaky bitch, so she could pop up at any time. Just because currently on Monday, August 4th at 4:43 p.m. I am not feeling her presence does not mean by Thursday, August 7th that she won’t have blown into town and made her appearance known.

The first year I was still swirling in the questions of what the hell is going on with my body? How I make it stop? When can I get back to real life? When can I eat cake again? and other deep life questions. I was under the misguided belief that my journey was just a brief pit stop or a gap year in my life and I would go back to my regularly scheduled life at any moment. Sometimes denial is a very helpful coping strategy.

Last year I spent the day with dear friends laughing and celebrating all I had learned so far in my journey while also allowing myself to really sit with and feel the grief. Many of the questions of year 1 had been answered by doctors at Mayo and others in my amazing care team village. I was slowly working on accepting the chronic nature of my illnesses and learning how to live with and manage them.

As I get ready to begin year 3 of this journey I feel more grounded in my body. I feel like we have become better friends and we are working together instead of against each other. I feel like despite all the things I can’t do, there are still a lot of things I can do and I am focused on those. I feel like I am farther along in my journey of acceptance and understanding that right now this is what life looks like and I’m learning to live in this life and find joy in doing so. I am still working on the grief of the last 3 years and definitely have more soul spelunking adventures into the caverns of grief that I need to go on, but I know those adventures will happen in due time. Trust me, I can hardly wait.

The last almost 1,576,800 minutes( doesn’t fit quite as nicely as 525,600 minutes) have been a whirlwind filled with valleys I thought I’d never climb out of, mountaintop moments I wish could have lasted longer, and a lot of walking along a path that seemed to be ever changing in it’s direction. Side note: The path still changes direction. There is no trail map for chronic illness. If there was it would be a blank page or a page filled with a lot of paths that don’t seem to get one anywhere quickly. The Sara from 3 years ago is not the same Sara that sits here typing this blog now and that’s ok. There are parts of me I miss and there are parts of me I have discovered in the last 3 years that I really like.

I have cried. I have screamed. I have laughed until I cried and snorted. I have had days it felt like I was just existing. I have had days where I have felt “normal”. I have sat in sacred spaces. I have been held by the Earth and my village. I have sung in my car at the top of my lungs. I have had days where I wanted to stay in bed and hide. I have felt alone. I have felt surrounded and loved in ways I never have before. At the end of the day I can say, I lived.

I don’t have anything planned for Thursday besides my normal life and right now that feels right. It feels right to spend the day my life blew up living. Grief may come Thursday and if she does I’ll welcome her. Her sidekicks sadness and anger may also come with her as they usually travel in a pack and if they do we will spend the day together and that’s ok. Deep down though I kind of hope August 7th becomes just another day because there’s far more to my story than the day it started and there’s a lot more living to do.