Recovery
In the first month after surgery I stayed at Jamie’s place. Every day I was served a plate of misery, every moment was bland and boring or tiresome and torturous. I felt like a sparrow soaring in a circle flying round-and-round, waiting to find the perfect place to be safe and sound. The days were hot, and it was hard to walk, breathing was daunting, and eating was worrisome.
Though I was haunted by the pain while awake, I was encouraged beautiful souls who encouraged, entertained, and inspired me to be strong. They were my guardian guides who helped me defy the devil who ate my insides. There were so many names, far too many to say. I am so grateful they came to me during the day. At night my world was different than the loudness of the day, it was then my mind began to fray.
If I were at home and healthy I would’ve held one of my cats, had a snack or wandered the world. But, since I was sick with nowhere to go I yearned to feel my heart glow. Late at night was the worst, I was lonely and lost, fearfully worried and awake. I felt like a vampire stabbed through the heart with a stake.
My nights were better, perhaps the best when Casey came to visit, she was the magical woman who enchanted me with her sparkling eyes and sweet smile. She was the lantern of my ship as I floated along the dark scary sea. Her presence felt right, and she motivated me to take flight. She was cute, sweet and pretty-as-can-be and when I was around her I felt free.
Nearly every night she came to visit. She would untangle my twisted mind, and though the pain killers warped how I saw the world I treasured every second I spent with her. My headspace was in such a strange place, the opioids stripped away my ability to navigate the day. I felt lost most moments, but when she was with me I felt found. It is important to take a second to see the sensational snap shots of life. In reflection this was one of my favorite times.
Hans
We all need someone to inspire us in our darkest seconds, especially when we have lost all hope. The dark and dreary doldrums of life can fill you with dread, especially when you feel like you can’t escape your own head. Thankfully I had Hans in my corner to encourage me to raise my hands and fight.
The sun blazed above; it was a hot, sunny day. Every sensation was twisted and intensified by the pain, my breathing was labored with the loss of the lung and the medicine that ran through my veins. Ambling from Jamie’s garage I walked beside Hans. His short, trimmed hair shimmered in the sun and his tough skin glowed with life. He was the most magical, compassionate, and masculine man I have ever met. The way he lived his life was unlike anything I have ever known. In his youth he traveled the world as an artist, driving around the Mediterranean Sea painting people to eat. He triumphantly overcame dark paths and faced down his own fears. The rush of life fueled his flame and eased away his pain. Hans was the kind of man who defended the people he loved and always did the best he could. He made the most of his moments and shared the magic of the world with every person he met. Being near him was like sampling the divine peace and everyone loved him. Deep in my heart I saw him as a second father, a true inspiration and guide. This man took all my hardship and confusion and bundled it up into a ball, and though I felt like I was going to fall he showed me I was strong, powerful and could overcome any obstacle.
As we walked down the road I noticed a large dog on the other side of the street, it walked about without a leash. The animal frightened me. With my injury I felt weak and defenseless, and the sight of the creature reminded me of when I was attacked by a ferocious mastiff some months before. “I fucking hate dogs…” I growled under my breath. I didn’t actually hate dogs, but it was the only way I could safely say I was afraid. The hardships I faced made me feel like a child, vulnerable and small.
He chuckled and looked at the animal. Later he shared how much he loved my reaction to the canine. I think it was simply because of the absurdity of my visceral and illogical reaction.
I looked ahead at my goal, I aimed to reach my destination which was a giant rock no more than thirty yards from the house. Walking just a few feet sometimes felt impossible, but I had to push the envelope, I had to overcome the weakness that haunted my bones.
We reached the massive rock at the end of the road, and we sat. I looked at my feet disappointed in how I felt. Thoughts and feelings raced through my mind. What have I achieved, how much have I really done in my life, what good have I done? I thought to myself. In the thirty some years of existence I felt like I had accomplished nothing.
“What’s on your mind?” He said with a thick Dutch accent.
“Sometimes I feel like I wasted my life.”
He put his strong hand on my shoulder and began to speak. “I have been all over the world and met a lot of people. Shawn White I can say you are ahead of the game.” He patted me on the leg and as he spoke his words settled my soul.
This was one of the most important moments of my life. He inspired me in one of my darkest seconds, and placed hope back into my heart. Han’s words took me out of my head, told me to raise my hands and fight once again for what I wanted out of life.
When we taste the barrel of death wisdom grants us the opportunity to see the world for how wonderful it can be. He opened the doorway to my soul and reminded me I could still have a goal. It was this moment that I once again tasted the fire of life and knew I needed to achieve something great.
