Nudged by My Book
I’ve heard authors say before that their books forced them to look more deeply into an issue. Last week I encountered this phenomenon in a new and surprising way.
I initially had written some of the more vivid parts of my story from memory. My recollection was that at least two years had passed between my diagnosis of Hallervorden-Spatz Disease and my diagnosis of platinum poisoning.
However, a year ago when I started restructuring my book and telling it from an adult’s perspective, I consulted a Word document I had created ten years ago at the inception of this book-writing project. While looking over this document, I was shocked to discover that only three months had passed between these two diagnoses. How had my memory been that off?
In the interest in staying “true” to the dates, I rewrote portions of my book to make sure that the chronology was correct. Throughout this whole rewriting process, I felt confused. I could’ve sworn we lived in fear and uncertainty for so much longer than this. But I owed it to the reader to follow the data. So I did, all the while feeling this nagging sensation. How could I have gotten this so wrong?
Just last week my editor Angie asked me to spell out more precisely what had happened between my diagnosis of HSD and platinum poisoning. So I went back to my medical charts and my mom’s journal to take a look.
And there, right in front of me, was mom’s notation: I had seen Dr. Galvez (who diagnosed me with platinum poisoning) on February 14, 1988. It actually had been two years and three months after my HSD diagnosis! My intuition had been right all along!
The meta-message of this discovery was loud and clear: You still are working on trusting that little girl!
For so long, I was angry with that little girl for stealing my childhood. I thought, had she been stronger, she would’ve figured out a way to get better faster. Heck, if she were smarter, maybe she wouldn’t have gotten sick at all!
As a child, I followed adults and doctors blindly. I was ushered from one doctor’s appointment to another, week after week, month after month, from the ages of eleven to fourteen. I felt helpless and scared.
Because of my circumstances, I learned that I had very little control over anything and my voice didn’t matter.
Apparently I still carry some of this residual thinking around with me, for I trusted a mis-keyed date more than my felt, lived experience.
It is through this book-writing process that I hope to empower that little girl in me and remind her that her voice matters. I’m taking ownership of my story!
Ever since I began pursuing the publication of my book, I’ve been committed to telling my story in a way that could most benefit my reader. Even with these short blog posts, I reflect on how my aha! moments might lead to aha! moments for you.
Which leads me to my next question. What piece of your life do you need to reclaim? I believe it’s important to process and integrate these pieces so that you can lead your most authentic life.