It wasn't long until I realized that I wasn't going to be able to go back to my highly glamorous shiny new career as a hairstylist. A little time away had cleared that fog. I sat down with my Mom and my boss to give him the news, after a follow up appointment with the MS clinic clinched the fact that my body needed more time to heal.
I cried as I told my boss that I wasn't going to be able to follow through and that my best intentions and passions aside, I couldn't afford physically to pursue hairstyling. I was devastated, crushed. This is not the "champion" way I had grown up reaching for. I felt like I was giving up and letting the team down. This wasn't me- this was not in my nature. This flipping disease was robbing me of a lot more than careers and physical abilities. I was disappearing and I had no idea how to hold on; try as I may!
And thus that became the question; who am I? How does this dis-ease fit into my life and myself concept? Why? Why is this happening to me? And what the hell am I going to do next?
I went out to the family cabin in the East Kootney's to get away and heal. I sat by the creek with my journal writing everything and anything I felt about what had gone on. I cried, I laughed, I drank too much and ate too little. And I worked on putting the pieces together again. I tried to normalize as much as possible, but to be totally honest I had no idea what the heck "normal" was supposed to even look like.
I watched as the handwriting in my journal changed. My artistic hand writing and printing turned into two line consuming, bulleted notes. My fine motor skills were getting harder to control and the high dose steroids I was on were getting harder to choke back. This was not "me". This was not who I was or ready to be. I was 24 and unable to relate to anything my peers had to talk about. I was 24!
The phone rang one afternoon. It was my old boss... We went through the normal pleasantries one does. The "tough" question "how are you?", my most challenging nicety was thrown out there.
"Fine, relaxing", was my reply- even though it wasn't even close to the truth. He went on to tell me how much I was missed, and how the team was just not functioning the way it had before without me. I took this in with a breath I refused to exhale, as big crocodile tears rolled out of the corner of my eyes. It was the perfect thing to hear at the perfect moment. I thought my days of being able to offer something to an employer were done. My boss asked me back. He created a new "Administrative Manager" role for me. He went on to tell me to take my time, but to know there was something waiting for me when I was done.
Meaning! I had value and meaning again... Obviously I wasn't worthless if someone like my old salon wanted me back. I felt an overwhelming need to get better! To get back! And I put my mind to it... Hoping my body would eventually catch-up. COME ON BODY CATCH UP!!!
