Me and my birthdays have always gotten along....I'm a big fan of them. In our family growing up, aside from that one year that my parents forgot my birthday, they were always a big to-do in the Osting house. We always made a cake, there were always presents and well, it was just an "event" that we could all enjoy.
I loved getting to a new age, I loved blowing out the candles and making a wish, I never once in my life was "hesitant" about a birthday until this year.
Even turning 30, I was so excited....quite frankly, to have survived my 20's was such an accomplishment, I thought, YES! Finally I'm moving to a new bracket...but now, as my thirty-fifth birthday is staring me in the face...only a mere three days away now...I'm all feeling conflicted and icky and nervous and reluctant to accept the fact that I'm about to turn 35.
How is it that being 34 is awesome and 35 is torture is beyond me, but the fact remains that for the first time in my life, I'm not looking forward to my birthday. Now, I'm not a mope, I'm not a whoa-is-me kinda girl, but I'm also NOT a lie-about-my-age kind of girl either, so naturally I WILL HAVE to look 35 in the eye and just grit my teeth and take it on the chin, but I don't have to "like" it do I?
A lot of you may not know this, but just as I was about to turn thirty, I was informed that I might not live to see another birthday. What started out as a scratch on my eyelid from a eyeshadow brush turned into a staph infection so terrible and out of control due to receiving the wrong treatments from my then family Dr., that I wound up in the infectious disease ward of St. Rita's medical center with people in yellow HAZMAT suits attending to me while I was quarantined from the outside world.
But that wasn't the worst of it, the worst of it is when my Dr. first checked me and said, and I quote..."Well Ms. Osting, I'm not sure if you're going to make it", and I was like "Whoa, what!?!?" I mean, I know thirty's not a young age, but it's way too soon to die!
Dr. then says, "If you pull through this, and we can get the infection under control, there is the possibility that due to the intense swelling, you may loose your eye, or eyesight, also you are at high risk for meningitis, so we're watching for that as well.
This was me in the emergency room as they checked me in: I hope I don't frighten you too much!
So why are you so scared of THIRTY-FIVE you're thinking....and you're right, I SHOULDN'T. I LIVED to see my 30th, and damnit, I'm going to probably LIVE to see my 40th....I just have to swallow 35 first.
They say that, or maybe it's me who says this....but anyway, they say that everything tastes better with cheese on it, so I'm going to put some cheese on 35, and I'm going to swallow it whole. And then I'm going to smile for the damn camera....because my mother is basically the paparazzi at birthday parties, and I'm going to say cheeeeeeese!
At my age, there's no going back, there's no room for fear....and on a happy note, someone at the nursing home the other day told me that I didn't look anywhere near 35 years old. Which makes me happy, but I also think that compared to people in the nursing home, I probably DO look young....*laughs*
To remind myself to be thankful this year, regardless of my age, I want to add to this post, my valentines day post from 2008, which I wrote from St. Rita's.....all alone in the pre-dawn hours.
VALENTINES DAYS AND HOSPITAL STAYS: (February 14, 2008)
(written while at St. Rita's)
It's 7:10 am on a snowy Feb. morning. As the world awakes and begins their busy day, I lay here in a hospital bed on the 8th floor of St. Rita's Medical Center.
What started out as a simple scratch on my eyelid has now turned into a very costly medical emergency.
Everyone here is really nice. I'm surrounded by flowers and balloons from my family and friends, but it's still a hospital. no amount of pretty plants or floating messages can make you forget the tubes hooked to your body or the ever changing nursing staff that constantly are coming around to check your vitals and hang a new bag of antibiotics.
I've tried to sleep as much as possible. I figured I could sleep these days away, but the body can only sleep so much and my body is on sleeping strike.....no more sleeping it SCREAMS!
Last year on Valentines Day I was set to get divorced. Valentines Day 2008 and here I lay in a hospital. I really hope this isn't the start of a pattern. I won't EVEN ask..."What's next"...or I won't live to write to you next year I fear! Ya know, it's hard enough being SINGLE on Valentines Day, but being single, sick, swollen/ugly and in a hospital on Valentines day, c'mon now....that's just too much!
Rachel told me last year that while we both had a rather tumultuous 2007, 2008 would be OUR year! So far, lil Ms. Fortune teller Rachel has been a little off her mark with that prediction! *smiles* Hey maybe she's just a year off, and 2009 is more our style.
Anyway, my eye hurts, it's beginning to get light outside.....it's the international day of love.....and it's going to be a long road to recovery when you measure it drip, by drip, by drip of the IV.
Happy Valentines Day!
The View from my hospital window
The world doesn't stop moving at the speed of light just because you're laid up...it just keeps right on going.....