What I learned between two kingdoms.
I had a medical procedure last week, a cardiac ablation meant to stop the frightening, nauseating heart-pounding known as atrial fibrillation. I think it was successful. I’ll see the doctor soon to find out for sure.
But this column is not about that.
This column is a recognition, spoken aloud, of the strange and unsettling journey you take when you are ill, even if what you are facing doesn’t seem existential. Even if your friends don’t gasp when you tell them why you’ll be out of the office for a couple of days. Even if the doctors tell you that you’ll be back at it in “a couple of days.” (Why do I fall for that minimization every single time?)
The writer and critic Susan Sontag called it the kingdom of the sick in her famous 1978 essay Illness as Metaphor. Whatever you think of her critique, she is right that we’ll all face a journey to that other kingdom sooner or later.
Illness is the night-side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use only the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place.
In my most recent journey, I was able to see clearly how differently time passes when you’re coming out of general anesthetic or waiting to be allowed to shower or walk around the block. I’ve never been someone who looks forward to the deep, drug-induced sleep that follows a surgery — too many crazy dreams, too much anxiety about what’s coming next. I know I should have been eager to spend a couple of days binge-watching Netflix, but I wasn’t. I missed my normal, beautiful life.
Most of us do whatever we can to get back to the kingdom of the well, including me, but there are lessons to be learned in the thin places in between.
That’s why I’ve grown so attached to the writing of Suleika Jaouad, whose 2021 book, Between Two Kingdoms, told the heart-wrenching and beautiful story of her leukemia diagnosis (at 22) and treatment. A graceful and brave writer, Suleika ends her memoir ends with the an epic journey around the country and back to the kingdom of the well.
Later, during the pandemic, Suleika (I feel as though I know her well enough to call her by her first name; I don’t, actually) began writing a Substack called The Isolation Journals and has built an incredible community around creativity, sharing and love. And, as happens when you follow a friend’s journey, there are tough twists and turns: After 10 years of remission, Suleika’s leukemia returned, and she is back to difficult treatments and uncertain results.
But the art and creativity she has continued to share has given me a new way of thinking about what happens when you’re in the kingdom of the sick, and how something beautiful and surprising can come from that dark and scary place.
Suleika encourages me to look for small joys on difficult days: The sparkle of my wedding rings when I finally got to put them back on after the ablation. The way the autumn light looks different during early morning walks with a bestie in an old forest. The never-ending enthusiasm of our dog as he bounds toward the kitchen, anticipating dinner.
I am grateful to be back in the kingdom of the well.
So relatable, so eloquently said.
Glad you're feeling well!