This must have been so difficult to come home to. When I lived in Africa, there was a flood in my home. Most of the measly few possessions I had were destroyed. Basically, it was just me left.
I know you’ve contemplated the many meanings of this event, so maybe you’ve thought about this, too: So many people who come into that space as clients are leaving everything behind for good. In fact, I can’t imagine a better analogy for getting a lousy diagnosis than a huge flood that destroys everything that was there before! And all the tearing apart energy, the demolition, all that is EXACTLY what it feels like to have doctors (even kind, gentle natural ones) flood in and begin treatment, to have friends and family (even kind, gentle ones) take over and clean, cook, and have to run your life.
To have to change your life, giving up what you want to do, for what you have to do. To have everything you thought was you and yours turned upside-down and inside-out. Because we all cherish our bodies, it is grief beyond grief. And our physical surroundings–home, job, personal belongings– are just extensions of our bodies.
I think it’s fair to say that until someone actually IS the one going through it (ie, not a caretaker or support person), it will always benefit them to deepen in their understanding of it, even through seemingly “outer” events like this. So, because you have committed yourself to helping others through such life changes, I think this experience will benefit you tremendously. I think you can really use it to deepen in compassion. My dear friend, I wish you peace of mind and joy as you continue to contemplate “Wha’ happened?”