Swimming Through the Memories

Sorry for my delay in posting this week; it's amazing what having a close friend in the hospital with a heart attack does to one's schedule.

That said, Monday evening gave me a chance to face the memories from one of the more traumatic times in my life, because my friend was in the same, inner-city hospital that was my second home for eight weeks after my then-husband was in a 6 O'Clock newsworthy car accident years ago.

Despite the move in recent years to make hospitals -- well, more hospitable -- this place hasn't changed. The same greasy pizza place, the same old architecture of doom, and the same dismal, cramped, loud rooms and hallways sucked me in on Monday for a trip down Remembered Trauma Lane.

I'm happy, ecstatic in fact, to say that it was three hours before my PTSD reactions to the place made it necessary for me to leave.

I'm not so happy to have to say (in the spirit of complete honesty) that yesterday was filled with lots of staring at walls and a seeming inability to get my mind to track anything for any length of time.

But at this moment (the only one that counts) the song below is going through my head courtesy of a friend who posted it in her journal. And I remember all of the times I've been able to keep my head above water, if even just my nose, and remind myself that it's getting a little bit easier every day to keep swimming.

(Fair Warning: There's a few lines of political commentary in this with which you may or may not agree. But that's not what the song is about.)



Image courtesy Nunu Bear via Flickr.