No More Neuroses

I interrupt this Christmas photo fest to acknowledge my neuroses. While booking flights to New York seemed like a brilliant idea in August, come December I started to panic. Even though I was thrilled that Annika was technically allowed to travel beyond her four-hour travel radius, all of a sudden the reality of this trip seemed terrifying. Twelve of us would be traveling through busy airports to the biggest city in the U.S. where we would be gathering with even more people, many of whom also traveled to get there. Large outbreaks of influenza A were confirmed all over the United States, with New York naturally being a hot spot.

Truthfully, in some ways my concern was valid. How often can you gather as a large group for an entire week without anyone getting sick, particularly at the peak of respiratory season? In getting together for the holidays, most of us recognize that we are likely to bring home not only gifts, but some unwanted illness as well. If you are fortunate, you'll pass around a runny nose instead of a nasty stomach bug.

The problem is that I see the world through tainted eyes. Instead of being an expected inconvenience, common illnesses feel life-threatening. While no one likes the flu, in the world of heart transplant you meet formerly healthy people whose native hearts were attacked and destroyed by the virus. Yes, it's extremely uncommon, but statistics don't matter when fate's lottery picks you. And frankly, with Annika's heart being more susceptible, it scares the pants off me.

Norovirus--there's another one that sends my heart racing. It's miserable for everyone--extreme vomiting, diarrhea, stomach cramps--not to mention the fact that it's highly contagious and can live on surfaces for up to two weeks. But for a transplant patient, catching norovirus commonly lands you in the hospital. Not only is it harder for an immunosuppressed individual to fight off the virus, but between all of the vomiting and diarrhea, you can't keep your medications down. And if. you can't absorb your meds, there is a frighteningly high risk of rejection.

And so, arriving in New York, I was admittedly neurotic. I apologize for my anxiety over life's normal coughs and sniffles. I ordered masks and cleaned surfaces like a crazy woman. When rumors of norovirus went around, I replaced all of the bathroom hand towels with paper towels that I stole from my aunt's pantry. (Thanks for humoring me, Aunt Janet!) Everyone was tolerant of my behavior, but seriously, I must have been so annoying to hang around. Plus, I really missed getting to see our cousin Greg after he got sick. He was so considerate and social distanced, but it must have been a bummer to have us changing the vibe.

Remember the early days of the pandemic when we were terrified about, well, everything? That's kind of what transplant life feels like. Everything is a threat. That person could be sick, that air could be tainted, that meat could be undercooked, that lake might have dangerous bacteria, that dirt could carry fungi--the list goes on and on.

I'm tired of feeling like this. I need to get over my anxiety. And indeed, I'm working on it. I meet with a therapist. I've adopted a "live life" philosophy. Going to New York may have been frightening, but we still went. We hopped on an airplane. We rode the train and the subway and shuffled our way through enormous crowds. And it was great! 

Even though it scares me, I still send Annika to public school where she sits next to kids who most certainly have colds. I'd like to say she does a great job with hand hygiene, but the truth is that she doesn't, nor does she wear a mask. Instead, she is out in the community living her best life and loving it. Frankly, she doesn't seem the slightest bit concerned. While I'm wasting time worrying about her heart, she's moved on to her current obsessions with spiders and wolves and boys named Steven.

While I'm grateful that anxiety doesn't seem to weigh Annie down, perhaps it's time that I let go of the worry as well. Worry solves nothing. As much as I'd like to control the future, it's out of my hands. Plus, often times things work out just great. Miraculously, out of the 12 people from Utah who traveled to New York, no one got sick while we were there. That's incredible. Instead, we had a marvelous time and connected with family that we adore. None of my worst fears came true, but even if they had, we would figure it out. Moving into the new year, I want to focus on joy in the moment instead of fear for the future. God is at the helm--I know it. So no more neuroses.