June | Post College and Change | Week 23 | 6/11/2023
What was your time in Seattle like and what did you learn?
Reflecting back almost 4 years later, the drive from Detroit to Seattle was one of the more profound treks of my life. There are obvious profundities imbued in travel, and even more obvious novelties in foreign travel, but how many people have truly seen their land and their country? I feel incredibly fortunate to be American for a plethora of reasons, one of which is the beauty and accessibility of our vast nation, so inspired by the mission of manifest destiny that many thousands died to see actualized. Our nation is the 4th largest in the world and far more capable of being traversed than the three above it - China, Russia, and Canada. Over 4 days, I saw Michigan, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, and Washington. I had dinner in St. Paul, a beer in Bismarck, I went sight seeing in Bozeman, and I stopped for a rest in Spokane.
When I finally arrived in Redmond, Washington I was weary from the long journey but much needed to be done. Once again, I had to furnish an apartment, set up water, electricity, internet, find doctors in the area, establish a route to work, find a grocery store and begin a new job. My health was rapidly failing and I was 6 hours by plane from the nearest family member. But there were things to do and my energy poured into the proverbial and literal checklist of life. It was a few weeks before I awoke to the fact of where I was. It was August and Washington was stunning. From my office was a clear and picturesque Mt. Rainier, available for my viewing at the slightest turn of the head. In that first month, I spent weekends on the lake with colleagues and weekends in the city visiting landmarks. But I couldn't shake the vacuum of energy I felt. My colon had been removed a year earlier but I wasn't feeling the relief I was promised. As the feelings of fall arrived, I found myself virtually bedridden every day after work. Daniel arrived in Seattle, as he'd done in Detroit, around my birthday in mid September. Instead of partying in downtown he took me for a pouch exam. The diagnosis: active and very aggressive Crohn's inside my pouch, something of a shock for both the doctor and I. I'll never forget that day, I was somber, depressed, and exhausted. Daniel said we should go to the mall, walk around, and get my mind off things with some mindless fun and Auntie Anne's. For the next week, he'd stay in Seattle as I mentally recovered from the news I'd been given. We didn't do much, we sat and watched TV, went for walks, and spoke about life. Proverbs 17:17 says, "A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity." He became my brother that week.
The following week, Zach arrived. I was feeling a bit better and I was grateful to have my best buds by my side. We ventured to Mt. Rainier, our last opportunity before Winter would set in. I vividly remember the dense, luscious forests, breaking only to reveal the prominence and beauty of the active volcano. Against my better judgement, we went for a hike. It was visually and cognitively stunning, a sight that lives in my memory for all time. We had an awesome week, eating Cheesecake Factory, watching anime, listening to music, seeing the city, and genuinely appreciating each other's friendship as we do so well. When the boys left, I felt somewhat refreshed and came out of my pit of despair to an extent. But the winds of winter had a different idea for me entirely. I never believed in seasonal depression, and I cannot claim to have experienced depression as a direct result of the winter, but I can speak to the conceptual validity of the diagnosis. November - January were rough in Seattle. The days were short, the sun was absent, the air was frigid and the rain was omnipresent. It wasn't a great time to be mostly sick and alone.
As the prednisone began to work and I started on a new injectable medication, times got increasingly better, despite the woes of climate. I began going to an LA Fitness nearby, I started making strides in my job, I found a pizza spot in Bellevue that I frequented, and I welcomed my parents in late October. It was deeply satiating to see my family. One takes for granted location proximity as a young person, especially in tough times. We had a lovely weekend, perfectly timed on the most exaggerated week of Fall as the leaves reached their peak before falling. The visit rejuvenated me to make it through the long winter ahead.
Weeks turn into months as the seasons change, and routine becomes synonymous with normalcy. It never ceases to amaze me how adaptive we are as humans. I savored my Sunday morning walks in the final weeks of fall to Pete's Coffee, my late night runs after work to Whole Foods for some quick dinner, and my Saturday afternoons spent exploring the greater Seattle area and Washington countryside. I was fortunate enough to break up the harshness of winter with 3 trips from November to January. First, to the cabin for Thanksgiving, second to Jacksonville for New Years Eve and third to Los Angeles to see Daniel and Zach. That third trip, on the precipice of Covid (January 2020) proved to be a life changer. It was the first time Daniel and I had been to LA to see Zach, and the life he'd created there. We spent the weekend imbibing in various locations from West Hollywood to Malibu. I can remember the flight home, the songs I listed to by Toro y Moi, and the poem I wrote about the deep sense of belonging I felt with those guys. I was sad to leave, but the future was looking bright, as I prepared for my next rotation in Charlotte, living with Connor.
In retrospect, my time in Seattle was present the same vibrancy and sobering reality dichotomization that I find perennially in my adult life. I changed a lot there. I confronted very serious problems and I grew. I further developed my ability to be malleable, adjusting to life's changes and finding solace where possible. Washington is truly a beautiful place - the Puget Sound's calm waters contrasting the great and powerful mountains in abundance, all hidden in a layer of fog that besets the city like a blanket. I learned routine is important for survival. On those nights where the rhythm of my heart, so disrupted by the lack of iron in my blood, would not be still, I wished for morning, where I could once again begin my routine. On those weekends when the thousands of miles separating my family and I entered my awareness, I went for a walk, to my favorite coffee shop. On the mornings when work was piling up, and missed calls from doctors populated my inbox, I looked forward to my routine - the bus ride home, the drive to the gym, the pre-made meal, and the episode of my favorite show.
What I gleaned most of all from my time in Seattle was the value of my friends and family. It's cliché but it's true - you cannot fully understand the value of something until it's gone. I had suspected that I had a higher necessary threshold for family and friend proximity and time, but that rotation in Seattle allowed me to test the hypothesis. I believe I'll look back on my time there and realize it was one of the more important elements to my understanding of myself and what I desired from my life.
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