Write me a memory…

NHBPM Day 9: “Tell a descriptive story about a memory.

My heart was pounding.

I had never experienced anything SO intimidating.

Somehow, I had to manage to walk my I’ve-earned-this-ass down an entire flight of stairs, utterly exhausted, having spent the past few months in an all-out flare…elevated temperature…skin lesions on my scalp…pericariditis making every breath an uncomfortable reality…

Of course, I was breathing SO hard, I felt like I was going to pass out.

But, I’d waited SO long for this particular appointment.  Years.  I’d spent countless hours searching the internet, researching, buying books…

I had a binder FULL of information…the culmination of all of those hours of relentless reading.  I never asked for help but for once.  I just couldn’t.

I couldn’t explain the deep (and by “deep”, I mean like down to the very fibre of my essence) need to personally tackle the multiple tasks ahead of me.

For, in the end, it was for me…not them.  I felt like I had to expend every ounce of my soul into my research because it is the belief of my faith that you are your deeds…and there were deeds I needed to do.

There weren’t a lot of people around, but enough to switch the anxiety button to “ON”.  I just had to make it down those steps.

Every step was painful.

I finally made it down the stupid aggregate of punishable hell.

I only had yet to make it into the room.

I had to stop.  I swear my life flashed before my eyes…I could’ve sworn I was about to have a heart attack…that the pericarditis (the swelling of the lining around the heart) had finally squeezed the life out of the very muscle that kept me alive.

I only had to walk through the door.

I was almost delirious.  I couldn’t believe that everyone just sat there…staring…jaws agape.  Could they not see that my heart was pounding through my chest?  That the beads of perspiration should be a dead giveaway?!?!?

4:00.

And then I saw it…at the front of the room.  That’s what I’d been waiting for…waiting YEARS for…

I only had to walk there.  I prayed my legs wouldn’t give out on the way, because I sure as shit couldn’t depend on my heart to get me there!!

And then…it happened.

It changed.

The whole moment…it changed.

At the turn of one mere second…I felt something I’d never felt.

EVER.

At that very moment…standing there with my heart pounding, my chest aching, my legs burning and my feet near numb:

I.  OWNED.  THE.  MOMENT.

It’s not every day you get to stand at the back of a room full of friends and family with a huntress dress, a pelerine and a sword while looking at your soon-to-be husband at the front of the room.

 

May 5, 2012: Handfasting HUZZAH of Awesomeness

 

Me and the girls.  Who else can say their bridesmaid/tron gift was a sword?  That’s right…MINE. 😉

Ya.

It was EPIC.

Our reception entrance song was the main title theme to the Game of Thrones.

Yes.

That was even MORE epic…processed with our family shield.

You just can’t forget something like that. 😉

 

This post was written for Wego Health’s National Blog Post Month, 2012.

 

 

 

 

 

 

One response to “Write me a memory…

  1. Beautiful.

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