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My heart full of emotions, my mind flooded with flashbacks. I turn around and this is what I see staring back at me… Beyond Grateful.
12 weeks later and here I am – standing in front of my hospital, once again. Never thought I’d make it back here, but here I am.
Instantly taken back to that night I was last here… I remember it like it was yesterday, feeling it as if it were now. Being rolled out on a stretcher into the ambulatory vehicle, glad to be going home but concerned what that meant. The night was dark, pitch black, unsoftened by the streetlights. No one in sight but we were oblivious to the silence. Exhaling the moments of the day, not realizing how much we had been holding them in.
I could feel the relief in the air as tears streamed down the doctor’s face into his mask. I felt the same but couldn’t muster the droplets, my body, exhausted and completely depleted. We couldn’t believe we made it through the day, full of respite, we were happy to be seeing me off compared to the alternative. It felt like we had been to battle together, and I guess in some ways we had. No one could have predicted how that day unfolded, the way too many close calls or the state of the world at that moment… but here we were, outside the hospital on this dark, deserted night – me heading home.
The doors to the ambulance shut…gratitude settling in as hope was slipping through our fingers. Shattered dreams and broken promises, I had silently made, lay on the floor around me – but at least I was on my way home.
Staring back at my shattered dreams on the ground around me is all I could do at first. Cut so sharp, I knew better than to try to pick them up. Letting them go seemed like the only choice. A familiar feeling you instantly recognize even when you try to deny it. We had been here before, we knew the drill, and so we prepared, once again.
Time continued to pass. With each passing moment, worry turned into tolerance, tolerance into acceptance, acceptance back to worry when we were tested and round and round we went. Not knowing where we were headed, when it would stop, or how much my body had left to give. Moments became hours, hours became days, days become weeks. 12 to be exact.
12 weeks – full of new memories, heartfelt conversations and priceless moments outlined in love and understanding. No one could have predicted how that day unfolded or the “bullets” we dodged but the one thing we did know is we can always count on our squad, our tribe – constant, unconditional and always ready to act. They are our Happy Days.
And so here I am, once again. Standing where the ambulance doors shut that dark, deserted night leaving shattered dreams and broken promises scattered on the ground, except today the sun is shining and there voices in the street.
Didn’t think I’d ever be back here, let alone standing on my own two feet, walking back in. But here I am, 12 weeks later. Standing in front of my hospital, once again.
As these memories and thoughts flooded my mind and heart, I turn around for a moment to take a deep breath and this is what I see staring back at me… Beyond Grateful.
It was as if my heart, mind and soul created this mural using my emotions as paint.
As for those shattered dreams and broken promises scattered on the ground… I think somewhere along the way we started slowly picking them up, piece by piece. Hope is the glue we’ll once again need.
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