7.17....

I wrote this yesterday… but then I was too afraid to post it. Yesterday was a year since my surgery. Is that a big deal? I’m not sure. It feels like it.

But

Maybe it’s also because I like the number. 7.17. I am pretty sure I had two options for the date. My surgeon said she would let me know but I really pushed for 7.17.

It just felt right.

SO

why am I not writing… maybe you have noticed and maybe you haven’t.

I’m suffocating.

Literally. 

I’m suffocating. Like legit no air in or out.

Scariest. experience. ever.

I spent the night in the ER trying to figure out why… and most logical conclusion - is a collapsed/spasming vocal cord.

I didn’t know that was a thing.

It is.

Now let’s go metaphysical… spiritual… into prayer mode.

Why am I choking on my own voice?

REALLY GOD? REALLY???

The voice I’m afraid to use is now a matter of life or death?

OKAY I am being a little dramatic, but no air eventually means big problem.  

My vocal cords are choking me!

At one point, every hour on the hour. 

This is real. Life flashing before my eyes real…. saying goodbye while praying real. 

God gave me a voice. And now I’m suffocating in silence. 

These scars of silence are just strands of a story...

I’m on countless meds to prevent me from suffocating. I am still having events but I’m learning to relax into it -until we find a more permanent healing. 

And how ironic.

This voice would rather silence me than to silence itself.

Amen.