525,600 minutes later — Hollis Wynn

1 Year.
365 days.
8,750 hours.
525,600 minutes have passed since my life altering health crisis on November 05, 2023. A day that I felt like would never arrive is finally here, and I’d like to share with you a few things I’ve learned this year - in no particular order.
The US Healthcare system is broken. That’s it. It’s just broken. All I’ve asked over and over is, “what caused this?” and “what can I do to prevent it in the future, if anything?” They don’t seem to care enough to try to help me other than to throw meds at me and say come back in six months. Even after giving severely life altering and limiting news, then walking out of the room.
Listen to and know your body! If those meds aren’t right for you find a new provider. If it takes months, just do it (as Nike says). It could be the thing that saves you.
I couldn’t have imagined that I’d live with my parents for 4 months because I couldn’t be alone or drive. That was a huge surprise, but I’m so grateful they were willing to deal with me and B during that time. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.
Wait… I couldn’t drive for a YEAR! So, that same doctor from above blurted it out, then told me he was reporting me to the state. So, I had to order ride shares each time I wanted or needed to leave the house. Thank goodness we’re in a world of delivery and I could receive so much of what I needed that way too.
Asking for help may be difficult, but people aren’t mind readers. I’ll say it again… the majority of humans don’t have ESP! They need you to tell them if we need help!
On that same note, asking for help doesn’t make you weak, though I’m still struggling with this one.
I’ve been alone my whole adult life so I generally ‘make it work’ and only ask for help in dire circumstances. Until this year.

Find joy in the basic things. This seems so simple, but it became the foundation of each new day for me. Did I eat a real meal that day? If yes, that’s a win!
I even tried new things and though the outcomes were not always as I wanted, I never quit. Maybe it meant I had to go back to the drawing board to figure out what my body and mind could do at the time, but I was willing to take on.
Here’s the reality check part. I’d love to give you a list of things I didn’t do which included cry, beating myself up because of bad days, not healing fast enough, setbacks, blah, blah, blah… but I did those too. Why? Because I’m human. Probably because in the midst of my carefully crafted life that I’d built, the foundation was crumbling and I wasn’t able to keep it together any longer. Those foundational cracks allowed tiny glimmers of light to begin appearing in new places and spaces, overtaking the shadows that had once been there. Which reminded me of this quote:
“We are all broken—that's how the light gets in.” ~ Earnest Hemingway
These slivers of light have been the magic for me not just this past year healing my physical condition, but the previous year with the trauma of losing three people so close to me in just 4 short months.
If you’re still reading, you’re probably wondering if I’ll ever get to the good stuff about what comes next. Honestly my dear friends and readers, I’m not sure what the future holds for my writing, except that I won’t ever stop because it’s part of who I am down to my soul. My journals are being filled and the creative part of my brain is sending off flares letting me know it is still here.
Can I tell you when I’ll have something next for you? No, I’m so sorry. I wish I could. But in the spirit of taking care of myself and doing what’s best for my body, I’m listening to it. I’m also writing when I’m able so when I come back, be ready for all the new stories I have for you.