Ahhhhhhh….Spring. I make no bones about the fact that winter is longer and harder on me than Elementary school was. Short spans of daylight, cold weather, gray skies, and staying indoors all the time are really not for me. So Spring is my default favorite season, by the very logic that it follows my least favorite. This Spring is especially sweet because for the first time in years I am entering my favorite season healthy.
Things have been going very well for me lately. My life has completely turned around in the last 7 months. To think that I was admitted to the Wacky Shack last fall for threatening to harm myself, an all-time low, continues to amaze me. I am simply not the person I was then. I am still a bit traumatized by the whole thing, to reflect on how far I had fallen from my trademark optimistic and upbeat self is nothing less than surreal. If you had told me then that I had 6 months to live, I wouldn’t have cared. The thought of tomorrow had no appeal to me. Now, I look forward to every day and what I can do with it. Life matters to me again.
My health, and the constant comments of family and friends as to how healthy and happy I seem is of course the greatest thing going for me right now. But I can’t minimize what I can only call the additional blessings that have been bestowed on me as a result. I have a girlfriend, a beautiful, smart, and very challenging (a highly valuable attribute in my eyes) woman with whom I am sharing my life. It is yet another second chance for me. In addition to health, I now have happiness, one more thing I thought I would never experience again.
I have a job. And in the typical fashion of late, it just fell into my lap. I met a guy that was looking for someone with my exact skill set and he wants to invest in me. How many people work for an employer that says something like that? When my disability runs out, I will go full-time in an environment where I can thrive. If all goes well, I will give my mother back her beloved house and privacy and get my own place. If all goes according to plan, maybe I will get a place with my girl. Wouldn’t that be an amazing thing?
One last thing that I have to mention is my Motorcycle. My bike is not merely a piece of iron with two wheels. It represents so much more to me. It is my therapy, my escape, my conduit to my own special brand of Spirituality. When I was sick, cruising on my iron steed was the only thing that gave me hope. Now that I am healthy and free from the constraints of dialysis to go where I want when I want, it is the symbol of my new life. Yesterday, after 6 months of staring at her in my garage ( I was forbidden post-transplant to ride because of the weight of the bike), I took her out. I think she missed me more than I missed her. The ride can only be described as transcendent. It is my connection to nature, to the memory of my father, to God. It is not just an expensive toy, it is a symbol. Of freedom and rebirth. And amazingly enough, I rank the privilege of being financially and physically able to enjoy it up there among my greatest blessings.