In her late twenties, at an age where everyone else seems to be focused on their career, starting a family or travelling worldwide, Mika instead suffers a kidney infection which leads to non-psychosis (severe anxiety and panic disorder, along with agoraphobia) and ongoing health problems that no one seems to be able to fix. She is suspected of Lupus, although her symptoms seem more like chronic UTIs. But with the test results always being negative for anything wrong with her, she is helpless in getting real treatment. This memoir describes the journey Mika takes as she seeks answers for her chronic health issues and learns to let go of many things while gaining insight into life and herself.
Targeted Age Group:: 25-50
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
When I became ill and was sometimes bedridden, I passed the time reading other memoirs which inspired me. My life is nothing extraordinary compared to some of the books I have read, but felt I needed to share my findings on my journey to better health. I hope that it will help others who are suffering through similar health issues with knowledge and support, and a reminder that you are not alone.
Book Sample
Part 1: The Fall
The Attack (August 30, 2010)
I gasp in sheer terror.
My eyes fly wide open from sleep, and I shove my blankets off as if they’ve caught on fire. I scramble for my inhaler that I had left on the chair next to my bed before going to sleep. I just received the inhaler from the doctor about a week before and haven’t used it yet. My heart is beating uncontrollably, as if a small, angry creature is fiercely trying to escape from my chest.
Although I read over the instructions of the inhaler when I got it, in the moment of panic, I can’t remember how it works. It seems like all the blood has drained from my brain, and I can’t concentrate. My hands tremble as I try opening up the folded sheet of instructions, but I’m having so much difficulty, I let out a squeal of panic. I quickly read through and follow as best I can. The inhaler clicks twice. I inhale. I reread the instructions again just to be sure, when I realize that the inhaler is only supposed to click once. I pick up the inhaler and notice the counter has gone down by two doses.
Damn. I just inhaled two doses. What did I do wrong? How could a simple inhaler be so difficult?
I’m shaking with nervousness. I’m sweating like crazy. I’m alone. I glance up at the clock on the wall. 8:50pm. When is my younger brother, Kenta, coming back home? I pick up our cordless landline phone in the two-bedroom condo suite that I share with Kenta. Should I call 911? I feel like I can’t catch my breath! I can’t breathe! I feel like I’m choking!
I try taking in more breaths, but that makes it even harder to breathe. I’m not getting enough oxygen! Am I going to die?! What am I going to do?!
“What if you call 911, and you become unconscious, and the rescue people aren’t able to get to you? What if they can’t find you right away?” a familiar voice echoes in my head. I agree and carry the phone over to the door of my apartment and unlock the door. How does the emergency unit come up to the fourteenth floor to my suite without the fob key, I worry. Should I go down and wait in the lobby? But I don’t want to make a scene in public, so I slump down on the hardwood floor by the door.
What should I do? What should I do? Calm down, Mika. You need to calm down. What’s happening? What is this? A heart attack? Really? At the age of 28? Is this how my life is going to end?
I look at the phone. Should I dial 911? Maybe the kidney infection from the week before has caused damage to the other organs?
I sit, leaning against the wall, the cold floor slowly cooling my buttocks through my sweatpants. I clutch the phone, wondering if I’d be able to push those three numbers and wait long enough for the ambulance to arrive. I sit there for the next two hours trying to calm myself down, waiting for my Kenta to come home, though I’m not sure what my brother can do to help. He isn’t a doctor or anything. I wonder if Death is nearby, waiting like a vulture for its dinner.
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