Do Life Changing Events Really Change Us?

My husband had two heart attacks two weeks ago, and survived them. I still feel numb. I was holding his hand when the second one hit, just as he was coming out of anesthesia. It was difficult to see him in so much pain, and at the same time I felt removed, as though I were watching from afar. Probably because of those little adrenal gland's misguided efforts to handle fight or flight. I was, just this very month, getting well enough to see the light at the end of the tunnel in my own recovery from Final Phase Adrenal Insufficiency / Mild Addison's Disease. 

I was feeling so well that I was imagining spending more time with my children, traveling, getting out on the river again, hiking, gardening, cooking regular nummy meals. Life has gone in reverse these last couple of weeks.

It's been a roller coaster of emotion as we've found ourselves on this unexpected ride of recovery, attempting to re-envision what really matters, and wondering if something this life-changing really changes our lives at all. Sometimes I feel like I've had my spiritual anchor yanked from the silt laden stones of my sea.

I've shed many tears, pleading for strength, and many times I've had the words of hymns come to my mind like faceless angels to sustain me: Where can I turn for peace? . . . I need Thee every hour. . . You can make the pathway bright. . . There is sunshine in my soul. 
We all do the best we can, I believe that. So for me, today, I chose to do something useful and work on this blog. I felt to unwell to do much of anything else, given that I've done more physically demanding tasks over these last two weeks than I've done in the last year. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but it feels that way :)

What's hilarious, is the night before his heart attacks {he had two}, I wrote in my journal how incredibly happy I've been and how much I was looking forward to this next phase of my life. I was to turn 50 two days later. Little did I know I'd spend that day in the hospital. Since that night I wrote in my journal, I've come to doubt my own capacity for joy, doubt that I am truly meant to know happiness in this life, and I have little trust that the many happy years ahead of my that I have believed in, were but a dream.