Piece 5, A/W 2024 Collection Two Months and Two Days

Two months and two days. Two very significant measures of time. Descriptive of the total amount of time that I have spent in hospital with Guillain-Barre syndrome. And signifying the actual point in time I was told that I could finally go home. Tomorrow. I can almost hear little orphan Annie singing about the sun coming out.

Two months and two days ago, my body completely paralysed. I could not speak, breath or move my body parts on my own. I was on life support for four deeply worrying days. I spent three long and traumatic weeks in ICU unable to speak or move freely. And I spent five more weeks and two days in intensive rehabilitation. All of this commencing two weeks after a lung lobectomy to remove my metastasised cancer. To say that I hit rock bottom during this period would be a grosser than gross understatement.

The presence of anger and depression filled many of my days. And their contribution to just how much it hurt as I made this unexpected bodily impact with rock bottom was beyond significant. In fact, the goal of ‘recovery’ feels like an injustice to the largess of the collision. My merger with rock bottom requires more than mere recuperation. I believe it is rather intended to inspire and trigger complete and utter transformation.

I leave here tomorrow a different person. Or perhaps I leave here as the same person but with greater clarity and confidence that all of what I have gone through was preparation for what I already know to be the way that I should live my life. Rock bottom doesn’t sound like an address one would seek to linger at for long. But if you can muster up the courage to stay for at least one cuppa tea, you come to understand the utility of its fortitude as a baseline from which to commence your very own metamorphose.

Two months and two days. Let the reconstruction begin.

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