Surviving an SCA

Like many others on this site, I was found and saved by the person who loves me.

Who called the ambulance at 4 am and who had the sense to perform CPR in the half light of waking from a sound sleep.

Who visited me all day every day no matter what.

Who fed me when I couldn’t hold a spoon or wiped my bottom after the absolute necessity, but deeply embarrassing use of a bedpan.

Who nurtured me through those many days of my irrational and repeated garbled hypoxic conversations without belittling me by telling me how silly I sounded.

Who constructively advocated for me with the medical staff and made sure I had the best of what was available.

Who tolerated my outbursts, depressions, fears, phobias and forgetfulness with tolerance and kindness.

Who supported my growth post SCA and nurtured my belief in myself which helped me to grow through my irrational period.

I feel lucky to have survived an SCA, but I feel especially lucky to have someone who loves me and who’s kindness nurtured me to regain the strength to live a good life again.

To all the Dawn’s, David’s, Dafne’s, Dereks or whatever your name is?

You may never really know how special you are, but thank you just for being You ????????????????

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