My Year of Transformation: Healing, Family, and New Beginnings

Sanguine (adj.): optimistic or positive, especially in an apparently bad or difficult situation, as in: his sanguine attitude followed him into this new phase of life.

I’m amazed at the ability of the human body to heal itself. So much has gone on in my yearlong absence. There’s been a lot of activity, a lot of healing and some amazing travels. I’m thrilled at the progress in my wellness. Thank God for the Apple Watch! I got the will to exercise again. I had to start off real slow. I wasn’t aware of how weak my body had become. Enter the Hume scale! I can see where my muscle mass is lacking and where fat is shacking up in my body. I’m glad that I’ve committed to going to my happy place at the beach to take long morning walks. Some days I’ll go hiking in Kenneth Hahn Park just to catch the scenery of the other side of LA. The clean air and sunshine is as therapeutic as the physical benefits of exercise. My next step is to start pumping iron again. I have a picture on my desk of me in my 20’s, where I’m looking a lil’ bit swole, for inspiration.

When people see me they say I’m looking healthy. I’m getting there, but it’s an uphill climb. I’m mentally in a better space. I had to shed my skin and become a whole new version of me. It’s a painful process, more painful than physical pain. I underwent a character assessment of epic proportions. It involved emotion wrenching insights. These insights revealed the realities of the nature of people in my time of greatest need.

Now, the worst is behind me. I have renewed energy towards building my body back from oblivion. I also enter a new phase of resilience this year.

My mom, the bearer of yours truly, turned 92 years old on January 1. It’s a blessing to know that longevity rules in our genes. Nonetheless, the curse of living to such a grand old age is the quickness of changes in life as one knows it. Life can transform rapidly. The start of any illness is debilitating. Unfortunately for my mother, this curse arrived on the eve of Thanksgiving.

My sister called.

“Mom doesn’t look well. The left side of her face is drooping and her words are slurring. I’m going to take her to the emergency room.”

She told me that during their FaceTime conversation with my niece, mom got up. She went to the bathroom. When she came back, she noticed her condition. I took the news calmly because she’s had minor strokes before where she ended up falling to the floor. This time, she was capable of walking to the car with my sister by her side. She later told me that she had no idea that anything had happened.

The next day she woke up in a hospital room, confused. She didn’t know why nor how she was there, and her left arm and left leg couldn’t move.

“You had a stroke on the right side of your brain in the area that controls the movement on the left side of your body,” the doctor explained. “It will take a while to get your motor function going again at your age, but you are quite healthy and have a good attitude. You should be moving soon with occupational and physical therapy.”

For two weeks, she stayed in the rehab wing of the hospital. When she came home, she saw her room was transformed with a fresh coat of paint, and it had all the things she would need to get her to a full recovery.

This was the best thing for her, for our whole family. We’ve always been tight knit but this has been a rallying moment, bringing us closer together. This moment has exposed our strengths and weaknesses, unspoken fears and hidden truths.

And just when I thought
healing season was over
it has just begun