Trapped and enveloped in a tunnel, thudding noises started. Dud* Dud* Dud* Follow by an Eeek* Eeek* Eeek* and then a Gee* Gee* Zzr*. I felt so helpless, yet hopeful at the same time. I’ve been waiting for this. Shots of on going vibrations course through my body, as my eyes closed trying to forget the surrounding chaos pinned a constrained body.
I was trapped in Plato’s allegory of the cave.
Waiting half a year for a spine check to determine my fate, turned out to be just an arrival of MRI scans. “ Lucas you have to wait for a letter from the Neurological Consultant to find out your results, and then see what he wants to do.” Said the technician.
“ How long will it take to hear back from him?” I asked.
“ Probably 3-4 weeks.”
“ I waited 6 months for this appointment.”
“ Well then, it can take up to 6 months. Goodbye.”
“ One more thing. Did you see anything on scan? Non-union bones? Spurs or anything?”
“ I wasn’t in the room, and we’re not allowed to say anything, only the doctor can. Goodbye.”
The door slammed shut.
I learnt something profound. Here in England, I am by myself. Hospitals work slowly with snail mail, there’s no guidance and no appointments via email either. I have to strive and struggle on my own.
I guess it’s a bit like life. We are set on a path to discover and help ourselves. So then, that is what we must do. I do feel a bit cruddy, and even though the hospital system makes me stand alone, I know I am not alone, because I have friends and family sending their love.
Jane gave me a pocket square to look prim and proper for the spine check, so I guess I could use that for the tears now. Casey told me, “ You’re the Bruce Lee of our generation.” This made me happy, because of his unwavering determination, daily-dedicated actions for greatness, and making it back from his own spinal injury. Dulijon asked me if I wanted to visit him, even though he was swamped amongst his work.
It is true. A friend told me that I’m always smiling. Even if I’m unhappy, I’ll still be smiling, it’s so innate, and no one can tell. I think I’m 99.9% happy and there’s that odd stroke of sadness that causes a temporary inconvenience and blows pass.
Such things that blow in the wind are mold too.
When I moved to my uncle’s place in London, he told me, “ While I’m away, the only thing you have to do, is take care of my plants.”
Most the plants blossomed beautifully when he left, but not all of them made it due a change of 10 Celsius in one day, strong winds, rain, mold and maybe too much water. I have to say, I even thought of replacing them without him knowing, but due to my honest soul, I grit my teeth and told him. He was okay with it.
I started investigating the disintegrating plant case. Maybe this is me taking responsibility, or it can be really my overcoming of guilt for the yellow crunchy leaves.
Oddly enough, there can be a lesson learnt from the most unlikely situations.
Too much of a good thing is not a good thing.
Too much water can drown plants and cause rot root. Whatever it is, it translates into training and getting better. Do everything in stride and don’t over stretch.
If I rehab, rehab. And don’t mistake rehab for life, because the ultimate reason I rehab, is so that I can enjoy a normal life. So in order to do that, I must not pass up on opportunities in front of me. Rehab when I can, and live when life arises.
So for you, remember the reason why you do things. This will make your choice and actions so much easier, and your outcome so much more rewarding, matching it closer to the results of your anticipated expectations.
Life has just presented me with an opportunity, so I’m off on a road trip around the UK now, and leave you with this.
Why are you doing, what you’re doing?