One Year Ago

One year ago I woke up and went for a swim.

One year ago I went to work, and then came home, like any other day.

One year ago I woke up in the middle of the night in overwhelming pain.

One year ago I felt an indescribable fear.

One year ago I was diagnosed with a blood clot in my lung.


May 16th is the “anniversary” of my pulmonary embolism. It is a day that I haven’t been able to get out of my mind for weeks now.

This may seem a bit twisted, but for some strange reason, I feel like I have just been waiting for this date. The idea of May 16th has been looming over me. I want so badly to wake up on the morning of the 16th and to feel good. It’s hard to describe, as I’m not really sure why this date should really mean so much, but maybe deep down, it’s like if I make it one year and make it through May 16th, I can officially say that my PE is in the past. That I’m better, fully healed, and all the rest... of course, I don’t really know. I don’t know if, on May 17th, anything will change or feel different. Maybe, but maybe not. Maybe getting through the Shawnigan Half Iron at the end of the month will be my “milestone” that helps me to move on. Again maybe, but maybe not. I suppose what is most likely, is that there isn’t going to be any particular date or event, and one day I’m just not going to think about it so much anymore.

I suppose I just find it amazing how so much can change in a year, and yet, how emotions can surface so quickly and easily. How feelings can come back so suddenly and powerfully. How a morning run, like I’ve done so many other times throughout the past year, can feel so much more monumental; how just the thought of the clot can cause a lump in my throat and my eyes to brim with tears.

All that said, I have come so far in the last year, and am so thankful to be healthy, to be strong and to be fit. I’m excited for all the new opportunities and challenges coming my way... and last but not least, I’m so happy that I’ve been able to redefine my own meaning of the word moderate.