Roadblocks. What do you do when you’re driving and you hit a roadblock? Do you just say, “Oh well,” and turn around to go back home, or do you find another way to reach your destination? How many times have you been driving with Google maps directing you and then an unexpected roadblock turns up? Your reaction probably depends on a couple things: are you late, how important is it that you get there on time, are you hungry, have to used the bathroom? If you’re like me, you probably get a little angry and irritated and curse about the inconvenience, but you follow the directions and you eventually get where you need to go. Life can throw you similar roadblocks and I want to talk about a previous one I experienced and a very recent one and how you can look on the bright side of taking the scenic tour to your destination.
Five years ago, I was home for the summer from college and I woke up at 2 a.m. gasping for air. My chest was tight and felt like it was going to cave in under the pressure of an invisible force. I’m a naturally anxious person and assumed it was a panic attack or a cramp and it would go away with time. But this was different, it was uncomfortable, it was excruciatingly painful, and no matter how I adjusted, I couldn’t shake this tightness in my chest.
I couldn’t take it any longer and woke my mom up as I was in tears telling her what was going on. We stayed up for an hour, took some ibuprofen, and it eventually subsided so I could get back to bed. I got up feeling fine and went to work that morning. However, later that day, the chest pain came storming, and, when I got off work, I called my mom and said we’re going to the emergency room. At 20 years old, I thought I was having a heart attack.
After a long waiting period, I was finally admitted, had blood work, an x-ray and CT scan. I was told I had pericarditis, a swelling of the lining of the heart caused by an infection getting into the pericardium, and they would be keeping me overnight for monitoring. That turned into two nights and a non-emergency ambulance transfer to another hospital to run more tests.
After everything was said and done, I was released after two nights in the hospital and given medication to reduce the swelling. The part that dug at me the most was the physical activity restrictions. I couldn’t do any strenuous activities that would raise my heart rate for three months, and no intense physical activity for six months. This was a big blow to a healthy, 20-year-old guy who loved to workout, run, and play sports. Being told I couldn’t do any of that for six months was like being told I couldn’t breathe.
A roadblock. This was probably the first significant roadblock in my life where it really knocked me down and I had to endure and find a way around.
Now, five years later, I’m in New Orleans with my girlfriend, Stephanie, who is starting a three-month internship down there. We were going to drive down from Wisconsin on a Friday and I was going to fly back on the following Monday. The whole drive down I had been battling a stomach ache that continued into Saturday. I felt pretty miserable but I was trying to keep it together so we could have a good weekend together.
Roadblocks. Saturday night, we got back to our Airbnb, and I felt sick as a dog. I was burning up and my stomach was killing me. The worst of it all, a familiar chest pain started creeping in. I thought maybe the stomach ache was causing severe indigestion and I could just sleep it off. I went immediately to sleep, but the chest pain continued through the night.
The pain eventually went away early the next day, and I convinced Stephanie that I was feeling fine enough to go do a plantation tour. Afterwards, my stomach started feeling funny again, so we went back to rest. Then the chest pain started again, this time worse than ever before. I was rolling on the ground in agony, I couldn’t shake the tightness and I thought my heart was going to explode. With my flight the next morning, I thought I could gut it out until I got home.
I was wrong.
I couldn’t stand it anymore and Stephanie took me to the ER. I was admitted and immediately had an EKG, CT scan, ultrasound, and blood work done. It was starting to feel all too familiar.
Again, they said they were going to keep me overnight, I would miss my flight, and I didn’t know when I would get released. I had a cardiac MRI that day and then they kept me for one more night. The doctors said everything was pointing toward viral myocarditis, which they think was what I had last time, but it was the heart muscle swelling, not the lining around the heart. They still didn’t know what the cause was, but they had an answer for the pain and a method for treatment.
Again, the drawback was no contact sports, weight lifting, or physical activity for three months, or until a cardiologist says otherwise.
Another roadblock.
The thing about roadblocks is they often loom much larger than they actually are. They seem almost impossible to get around and you feel lost.
I sat there reflecting on the last 48 hours. How it changed so quickly, how my future plans changed so quickly. I looked down at my hands, both now bruised with seven distinct puncture sites from blood draws, down at my elbows where I had two separate IVs put in, and down at my chest where I had several different EKG stickers and it was now also partially shaved for the MRI.
Walking out of the hospital, I looked rough, but I started to think about the experience. The hospital staff was very attentive, courteous and cared a lot about getting me out of there healthy, which, in my experience, isn’t always the case. I was able to reschedule my flight with help from the airline, and my work has been very supportive and flexible.
Aside from all of that, I sat there thinking about when I got admitted and how many different times I was asked the same set of questions, such as if I was experiencing any other pains, any drug or alcohol abuse, domestic abuse, previous surgeries, other health issues, etc. The answer was no every time, but I couldn’t help but think that these are all questions they need to ask because some one has or had these pains or difficulties. Someone is dealing with more than just being limited to no exercise for three months, and how selfish of me to think this was the end of the world?
When a roadblock comes up in life, you don’t just turn around and never reach your goal. You find another way.
Just as with a detour sign, I like to use these particular times as a caution to slow down. It’s as if Life is sending me a message that I need to pay more attention to something I was previously ignoring and shouldn’t have been.
Five years ago, I used that time to focus on school and my diet so, when the time was up, I could start training for my first half marathon. This time, I’ll be working on my mental health because that can always use more love.
I will get past this roadblock, and you’ll get past the roadblocks in your life too because you aren’t a quitter and you need to get where you’re going.
One last thing about the incident five years ago. Not many people know this part, but I was exhausted from being up the night before and I needed to get to work early that morning. I was so tired on my drive home after I called my mom that I fell asleep at the wheel for a couple seconds. I woke up as a semi-truck was screaming past my car. I was still in my lane.
We all have a purpose in life, and, whether you’re a religious person or not, I believe someone was watching over me that day because I haven’t reached my purpose in life yet.
It’s not always easy to see the path to your purpose, and it will feature some roadblocks, potholes, and breakdowns, but if you’re experiencing your own personal problems right now, or you’ve hit a roadblock in life and want to give up, don’t. Find a way around it because you’re not done here yet.
Life 
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