Isn't life funny. One minute your up and the next you're down... quite literally.
So I go in for my back surgery, I'm chatting with the anaesthetist for all of 2 seconds before my World turns black and I am in a deep, lovely sleep, the kind that comes along very rarely in life (no catching the Saints winning touchdown or hanging out with the Beatles but great all the same). When I come to I'm in the post op room next to a guy apparantly asleep, so far so good. Next thing he's screaming and trying to get up, fighting the many nurses who suddenly appear out of nowhere. I'm wondering if it's all a dream but know that it's not like that floaty place from a few moments before, for in here you can taste the metalic air and feel the sound waves bounce through your ear canal, senses slowly acclimatising to reality second by second. I fall asleep for a while longer and find myself back on the hospital ward where I was pre op.
The good news at this point is I can already sense that the pain I've been living with for the past year has fled my legs to be taken over by the sensation of having been at the bottom of a pile of opposing linemen for sometime. Boy my body is aching and even the morphine I'm on isn't hiding that. However even in my drug heavy mind I am getting excited about the future for I can contemplate a time near with no pain. I am happy, I am excited, I am asleep, I am waking, I am seeing friends and shaking hands, I am waking to watch the guy opposite being stitched back up in the middle of the night, I am sleeping, my blood pressure is dropping, I am being put back on a drip, I am happy, I am going to be pain free soon....
Fast forward one week and the recovery, whilst slow, is going relatively well. I am still on my back but I am able to get up occassionally and shuffle round the house. I am able to sleep properly for the first time in ages without waking in stabbing pains. I am thankful for the love and support of family and friends who bring chocolates and stories of the outside World and promise me big nights out in the near future when I am back up and walking normally (about 6 weeks). So this is all great and I couldn't ask for more.... well, you see now, actually I could because I've left out a little detail which has somewhat put the dampners on an otherwise positive time for me.
You see I could ask that the guy I call my boss, who I have been loyal to this past year despite paying me peanuts until things pick up, who I have turned down other very attractive employment opportunities for so as not to leave him high and dry during his hour of need, does not email my family to tell them to tell me he is making me redundant a couple of days after surgery because he doesn't have the guts to do it himself. Has the business run out of money? No, he's investing another $250K into it. Has my work been unacceptable I ask on a subsequent email? Far from it, it's been fantastic, to the highest standard and your efforts are very much appreciated. So why the boot? For the simple reason that he does not want to cover my post op recovery period of 2 to 3 months below max. efficiency (my usual working hours are 14 hour days + half day Sat and Sunday).
It's at times like these that you really learn about people. You learn about people's true colours, about loyalty, honour, decency and more. I couldn't have asked for anything more from friends and family who have shown their rich qualities in every way and yet I couldn't have expected anything less from my employer. It's a great lesson I will take with me for years to come.
Coming soon... an actual blog about football, just felt the need to get that off my chest.