I was a dancer. I was confident and ambitious. I was making it in NYC. I was headed right where I wanted to be. Then I almost died.
In the middle of pre-rehearsal workout, my heart flooded and I stopped breathing. I felt my chest tighten. One of my fellow dancers held me up in a sitting position. I wanted to lay down. I couldn't breathe but I was conscious and I was dying. I was never more sure of anything in my life. These were my last moments. And they hurt like hell!
I could feel hot tears running down my cheeks. Was I crying? My throat started to ache as I tried in vain to pull in a breath. I could feel my heart now. It was beating so slowly. Every beat felt like a balloon growing in my chest.
I squeezed my friend's arms. I remember telling myself that if I held on to her tight enough, I couldn't die. She must have had bruises for days.
Someone in the background was talking to me. Telling me to breathe. I'M TRYING! I can hear Kathy on the phone trying to tell the paramedics where we are. We're somewhere along the Hudson river. It would be 30 minutes before they reached us.
Oh shit.
My arms started to go numb. I dug my fingernails into Afton's arms to try to get the feeling back. My eyes must have begun to roll back because she began to tell me firmly "Look at me. Look at me." I couldn't. I couldn't see. I was losing consciousness.
Damn it!
Then it felt like a lead ball was trying to punch its way out of my chest. This is it. My heart is going to explode. I want it to. Just so it will stop hurting! No way. I can't believe this!
And just like that, my heart started to beat faster. Pumping like I was running for my life. And somewhere in my head, a voice said "BREATHE!" And I did. I took a breath. I was so surprised that I started to take large panicked breaths.
My heart rate slowly returned to a relatively normal pace and I could breathe normally. Every muscle inmy body felt bruised. I could feel the blood returning to my limbs. It felt like hot lava pouring through my veins.
I realized I was drenched in sweat and tears.
I would later be told that I suffer from a heart condition that should have killed me. That if I would have laid down, my heart would have fully flooded and I would surely be dead. I was lucky.
But I would never dance again. My body would never again be able to handle such strenuous physical activity. I'd rather be dead.
It took two years for me to come to terms with this fact. That the career I worked so hard for was gone. In one day, all my years of hard work were swept away. But in mourning the loss of my dream, I found out who I really am. I learned things about myself that I never would have tried to learn before. I tested myself. I addressed things that needed to be changed. I worked on ME. And it was the best thing that could have happened to me.
I know its ok to let life happen. I know that no matter how well I plan, life will mess with me. And I can fight it, or enjoy the ride. And I am really really enjoying the ride. And I like not knowing where I will end up.
Its the ultimate adventure.
