It was both a relief and a concern to find the source of the mold. The relief was knowing where it was coming from and the concern was: How the hell do I get rid of it?
Telling myself to not take my health for granted has always been a mental game I've played, an affirmation, perhaps even a mantra that I've repeated to make myself feel better about the fact that scary stuff can happen to anybody, at any time.
I could see all kinds of things that I had missed when I was stuck in my bed. I could feel the breeze swirling around me; I could see hummingbirds buzzing around a tree branch above the roof. I didn't realize it until later, but it was the first time I had been outside in two years.
It seemed like something that could easily sound inauthentic or fake, the thought of which made me cringe, but in the end he not only did justice to my writing, he managed to accurately convey the struggle of me trying to speak.
I'm not proud to say that it took getting sick and losing some of my privilege for me to grasp how fortunate I was as a healthy person. But it is one of the few good things that has come from my poor health.