New Perspectives (Part 1)

Eight months ago, I was lying in a coma, on a ventilator in the ICU. As I look back on this year, I realize I’ve learned a lot — about medical care, emotional, mental, and physical health, resilience, patience, compassion, breathing, and life in general.

While it may seem trite, the aphorism "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" is absolutely true.

After suffering from COVID-19 for 10 days at home, I was admitted to the ER with COVID-19 pneumonia with acute respiratory failure with hypoxia — which means that my body was so ravaged by the virus that my lungs they weren't providing my organs and tissues with enough oxygen. Paramedics recorded my oxygen saturation level at 55 (normal is 95-100). I was immediately intubated and placed in a medically induced coma, with no clear prognosis.

The journey to recovery hasn’t been easy (a pulmonary embolism, persistent cough, supplemental oxygen, coughing up blood, elevated heart rate, hypoxemia, regular meds)?— especially for someone who is a healthy 40YO who has never been to the hospital before and has no history of medical issues. But this winding journey has given me a new perspective on life, and a gratefulness for what I have.

I’m fortunate that I have access to resources (i.e., fully paid healthcare, an understanding employer) that many others do not; when I got sick, while it was before vaccines were widely available, there was a lull in hospital crowding, and health care providers had already had the opportunity to become immunized.

Over the course of the next five posts, I want to share a few of the lessons I’ve learned this year. It's likely you've heard variations of most before, and none will be earth shattering to you, but when put together, perhaps it will help you gain another perspective and ask yourself some tough questions.

Lesson 1: Time is Finite, Recognize Its Value for You

Movies and books aggrandize bucket lists or last wishes of those with terminal illnesses, as they know they are dying and want to do the things that they never had the opportunity to do before. But those that die without warning rarely have the chance to understand the missed opportunities. When you face your own mortality, and emerge on the other side, you spend a lot of time thinking about how short life can be, and if you're spending it doing the things that you want.

This doesn't necessarily mean quitting your job to travel the world or pursue that life-long passion (let's get real: few are financially stable enough to do that).

But ask yourself: does the work you do give you more energy than it takes from you? What does your work-life balance look like? Are you spending time on the important things outside of work? Is there a long-abandoned passion that you should carve out time for? If you knew you were going to die soon, would you look back and regret how you've been spending most of your time?

Your time is finite, and in today's society we feel pressured to spread ourselves thin, like we can't say no, or we have to say yes to too many things — to be the perfect employee, parent, sibling, child, friend. Are you doing things because you need to (need to work for $ for the basic needs like food and shelter) or because you think you need to (need to because you feel societal or family pressures)? Would you say yes to these things if you knew your time was limited? Are you striking the right balance in spending your time on things you need to do and things you want to do?

I've learned to evaluate the way I spend time, and to stop and consider before saying yes to anything, "Is this how I want to spend my limited time here? Am I striking the right balance for me?"

What questions do you ask yourself in evaluating how you'll spend your time? Or what questions will you start asking? If you're willing, please share in the comments below.?

Read part 2 about giving yourself permission to slow down.