There are so many ordinary, everyday activities that I have learned in my lifetime to not take for granted. One would think that in "my world" there would be no more surprises; no more necessary reminders from Hashem that nothing should be taken for granted. Here I sit though, only a few short days after returning from the hospital having endured something so mind-numbingly terrifying that I am still unsure as to how I might even begin to wrap my head around the events of the past week. Perhaps even more importantly, the lessons to be learned from my current situation are so profound that I believe that they are too enormous for me to yet absorb.
Just a few short days ago I was rushed via ambulance to the hospital. As the medics ran through the myriad of questions that they do my mind flooded with answers. As quickly as the questions came the answers appeared. Sadly though I was unable to answer even a single one. My mind was clear, but my words most certainly were not. The harder I fought to spit out my thoughts the more they seemed to cleave to my tongue.
A formal diagnoses has not been solidified yet, but it seems that I most likely had a "mini-stroke." An oximoron of gargantuan proportions if ever I've heard one! There is most certainly nothing mini about this situation.
In the hospital I struggled to even spit out a single syllable. I cried tears the depths of which threatened to drown my very soul. I felt utterly trapped, as if my very essence had been swallowed up in a single moment in time. Time had stopped, life had stopped, my being was trapped.
But in the days that have followed I have already made great strides and am able to put together full sentences. True, each word is painfully slow to speak and my speech pattern is dotted with stuttering and stammering, but in so short a time I have already made tremendous improvements.
I tell you all this because I wanted to keep you all informed as to my condition and do not want you hearing "through the grape vine" that some terrible calamity has befallen me. The situation is difficult enough without the hyperbole that the retelling of stories often lends itself to. But I also tell you this so that when you see me, you can remind yourself of the following words coming from my mouth (so to speak.)
PLEASE, when you see me, or speak to me, don't treat me differently. Don't look at me with sad eyes. I have been given many great gifts in my lifetime, and of course am no stranger to having had some of those gifts taken away as well. I know how to fight back, to recover from my losses, and to hopefully learn the many lessons that Hashem intends for me to learn from these situations. When you see me, see the same Beth that has always been there. I still laugh at the same things, roll my eyes at the same annoyances as before, and think as deeply as I ever have. My intelligence, my wit, and my temperment have not changed. I am still one hundred percent ME.
What I know now, that I did NOT understand that first day in the hospital was that my essence was NOT lost. I continue to be every bit of myself as I always was. Please, do no pity me, I have too much joy in my life too have earned anyone's pity (a fact I admittedly struggle to remind myself with sometimes as well... But I suffer from a condition called "being human" so I forgive myself.)
For now I just beg for patience, from you, my family and friends, and most of all from myself. I do not believe that this condition is a permanent one, but the patience needed to endure it is a mighty tall order from someone who so chronically cannot seem to shut up. And so for now please just join me in trying to be patient and perhaps pray with me that I learn everything I can from this current trial I am undergoing and that I earn back the gift of unhindered speech as soon as possible.
There is a small sentence that is recited before every shmonah esrei and amidah prayer that states:
Hashem sifatai tiftach ufi yagid tehillatecha
"G-d, open my lips so that my mouth might sing Your praises"
It has become my personal mantra.
I would be so grateful if you perhaps could keep in mind during your own prayers as well.
Thank you again for your care, concern, love, and patience. And please remember, I am as always, for better and for worse, the same Beth that I have always been.
All my love,
Beth
Shoshana Malka bat Chaya Zelda
