The Comeback Queen

I’ve stopped feeling sorry for me, and you should too. Two weekends prior, my parents took me to my favourite little town on the NSW east coast for some salt therapy. I caught up with some old friends, made some new ones and I returned home with a fresh new perspective.

In short, my bestie Grace joined me in my little gem for a regular shmegular Sunday sesh: salt, surf and live music. Does it get any better? With my sweaty ass cheeks parked firmly on a cold stool at Flow Bar — the mercury read thirty three. The Tommyhawks fired up their set and I found myself shouting along; “we are the women and we’ll keep on singin!” It was in that moment the penny dropped like a television thrown off an overpass. So. Punk. Rock.

I was so invigorated by Fighting the Times that I knew there was only one thing to do next: head back to that sea salty good stuff. Over or under. Fully committed to the former, we flung our bodies over the rapidly approaching wall of tumbling white wash. As we rose from the surf coughing, spluttering and laughing, I’d realised I’d never felt so alive.

I had been going about my recovery the wrong way this entire time. Up until that point I was so concerned with what was making me sick that I just needed to focus on what I was going to do to get better – or least feel better! F*ck, I feel so stupid looking back at it now. (Actual forehead slap). Like attracts like – I’ve always believed that. Put that good shit out into the world and it will eventually return ten-fold.

So, I’ve stopped feeling sorry for me, and you should too because this queen is making her comeback.

Kim xo

Ps. Some of the references below:

The Flow Bar @ Old Bar is a little secret of mine. If you’re travelling on the east coast and have a few hours to spare, stop by for a surf, a beer and some live music. Thank me later.

The Tommyhawks is an awesome Perth-based band. “Fighting The Times” is one of my current girl power jams. They’ve just released their latest album, so give it some love on spotify.

Toes & Tears.

Three days. It took me THREE DAYS to write this post. Someone who is bed-ridden shouldn’t have much else to do… Right? Wrong. I have been extremely busy… Sleeping.

“Wake me for food and company” is the proverbial post-it note loosely adhered to my forehead. Today my aunt came home early and decided that she would take me to get my nails done. Bless her. So, quick as a flash, I was up. Slipped into a sassy summer dress and some sandals. It only took 45 minutes this time. A new personal best! (Not sarcastic).

With the grace and poise of the queen, I entered my kingdom. The pedicure chair: my thrown, the nail technicians: my handmaidens. One by one, the ladies removed the fire engine polish from my tiny little toes and it took all of my crow’s feet to hold back the tears.

The nailbeds of my bare toes resembled the dark swirling clouds in my nightmares. A sobering reminder that I am too weak to subconsciously lift my feet high enough when walking up stairs. Lift, bang, ouch. Lift, bang, ouch. I walked past the dining room this evening and noticed that my family no longer eagle-eye me when I walk – is this the new normal? (Deeply exhales).

I received my neck and brain CT scan results on Monday. All the major arteries and vessels are A-OK. I was elated, for a second. Then my doctors put their blind folds on, spun around three times and took a shot at the dartboard. Pericarditis caused by a virus I suffered 3 weeks ago. “Might also explain the exhaustion and weakness. Take this. If that doesn’t work, see me next week.” Good sh*t doc.

Restless,

Kim. xo

Ps. I chose turquoise polish today – in case you were wondering.