Something Was Not Right
I was waiting for a friend to show up for lunch and all of a sudden it hit me. The good news is that I got there about 15 minutes early so I had time to hit the restroom and drink some water, and pray that whatever this feeling is goes away. The bad news was that by the time I came back to the booth my friend was there and he could tell immediately that something was wrong. I’ll spare you the bloody details but let’s just say I did not stay for lunch.
I immediately left the restaurant and called my wife. She’s my rock in moments like these—cool, calm, and collected—whereas I’m usually on the verge of panic. We decided I’d call my doctor and we’d both make our way to the ER.
Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to hang out at the hospital, but we were only there a total of about 2 hours before they sent me home. The pessimist in me thought, “That was way too easy.”
Midlife Crisis to Colonoscopy
This happened on March 28th of this past year and I was already deep in “midlife crisis” mode and I’d been struggling. I was feeling embarrassed by how “lost” and “stuck” I felt, wondering how at almost 50 years old I still have more questions about life than answers. That’s a disorienting feeling.
I had been thinking about what I could do to get out of this funk. I knew I needed to face the fact that half of my life was over while still looking ahead with hope and excitement at the second half. A lot of people in my shoes buy a sports car or take a big trip, or have an affair. Not me…instead, I decided to finally get that colonoscopy my doctor’s been bugging me about since I turned 45.
to the E.R....Twice
That decision to finally get a colonoscopy landed me in the ER. Not once, but twice.
The Friday morning after I got home from that first ER visit I mentioned earlier, things went downhill fast. By the time I got back to the ER, I had lost so much blood that I was going to need a transfusion, but first, they had to stop the bleeding.
So, for 3 days they worked on me. I was surrounded by machines, IVs in both arms, and electrodes taped to my chest. When I wasn’t tangled in wires making trips back and forth to the toilet, I was prepping for more tests, and praying they’d find the source of the bleeding, and stop it. I was terrified.
By Sunday, after three exhausting days, they fixed me. And all I could think about was being home with my family and sleeping in my own bed. I needed rest—and not just for my body but for my soul.
We Need Each Other To Heal
The doctor told me it was going to be 6-8 weeks before my body was back to full strength. However, I quickly realized that my recovery would be as much emotional as it would be physical. One morning, as I sat at my computer trying to work, the tears came out of nowhere. And later that night my wife helped me process it. She reminded me that I’d been through a lot and that my body was telling me I needed to deal with some of the stuff I’d been ignoring.
So, while I slowly got my strength back, I started walking every day, and listening to podcasts while I walked. I started journaling again. I read books about dealing with grief and regrets, about delighting in the small things in life, and about finding joy. And I started to put those things into practice.
And during all of this, I rediscovered The Moth podcast. I first started listening to The Moth back in 2008 while living in St. Louis but over the past several years I got out of the habit. Listening to others tell their stories again was such a gift and helped me process my own fears and grief.
Over the summer, I found out The Moth has StorySlams happening right here in Atlanta on a monthly basis. So, my oldest daughter and I started coming. And I have to say, being there on a consistent basis, listening to all of the wonderful stories has reminded of a quote from one of the books I read by Ross Gay. The book is called “Inciting Joy” and in it he says this, “In addition to the fact that we all die, the most salient or unifying feature of we the living is that we cannot survive without help.”
And though this last year has had its tough moments, it’s reminded me how much we (humans) need each other. Life is not meant to be lived alone. And for me, finding this group on the heels of what’s been a tough time in my life has been the reset I desperately needed.
I was able to stand on stage and tell this story during the January StorySlam and as I told my story I was reminded that we heal best when we heal together. These experiences I’ve recently had at The Moth have been a joy and have given me a renewed sense of hope—not just about the second half of my life, but about the power of connection to carry us through anything.