The comfort in clarity and the possibility in a "maybe".

Before I jump into this post and as another shout out to my Delaware crew, the Therapeutic Technician at the rehab gym that I spent my summer in, Jason Fehrle, is running the Disney Princess Half Marathon in February to raise money for Nemours and a new Child Life Center at the A.I. duPont location. I hope that most of my posts on From 3West point to how incredible Nemours and A.I. duPont are. If you feel led to check it out, donate to or share his cause, please click here. I’ll say it a million more times – A.I. duPont is an very special place full of really cool people. This is a clear testament to that.
 
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On June 11, 2017, I posted probably the most important letter I’ve ever written in regards to how and why I started From 3West.
 
I remember laying on the downstairs bed, where I was camping out while I continued recovering from surgery, and typing through my tears as I reflected on that past month and all that had changed in my life.
 
I posted Dear Nemours, hoping just a few people I was trying to thank might see it.
 
As I sit here 6 months later, returning home two weeks ago from one last Delaware checkup, I feel like I’m in such a familiar spot. But if it’s even possible, my gratitude for Nemours has grown from that afternoon in June.
 
Two weeks ago, as my mom and I sat in the exam room alone for a few minutes and she leaned down to help me put on my shoes, when she looked back up and we made eye contact, tears started streaming down both of our faces.
 
I hugged Dr. Miller one more time and did my best to hide the fact that there was a lump in my throat.
 
My mom and I walked the halls of the hospital, smiling and laughing as we shared our memories of living there for a month with my brother and my dad.
 
We saw my two friends who had surgery on the same day as me this summer, Ryan and Courtney.
 
The three of us proceeded to walk around the hospital and the rehab gym, saying hi to everyone we could find from last summer.
 
It was one of the most bittersweet moments of my life. Because I knew that it was probably my last time walking the halls of the hospital that turned my life around, as a patient.
 
But on the plane ride home, it really hit me. The end of that previous sentence, “as a patient,” screams possibility.
 
Okay, I’ve probably lost you. Let me explain.
 
Clarity. I think it’s one of those things that everyone wants, but sometimes it’s hard to grasp. It’s something I’ve been praying hard for since the start of this semester.
 
When I started at UF last year, my plan was to go into the sports industry. Telling stories of the greatest athletes, the most passionate fans and the most inspiring situations on and off the field.
 
But as I got into UF’s sports media program, something in me often felt off. And as I learned more about the sports industry, I realized that my passion was really just about telling stories, sports or otherwise.
 
So in the summer, switched my major from Sports Journalism to Media and Society Telecommunications. A track that would still allow me to pursue sports if I wanted but was open enough to allow me to check out other avenues as well. I was confused because in a sense, my original plan was obliterated and I didn’t tell anyone at the time, but my sports centered dreams felt kind of like they were slipping away from me.
 
Since I started this journey with From 3West, I don’t think I realized how much storytelling  became my focus. My focus has become telling my story and stories of kids like me who struggle medically.
 
The Articles tab on my blog got dusty this past semester as I stepped away from sports, just to see how it felt.
 
And let me tell you, writing freely, working for myself and sharing others’ stories that are similar to mine has been the most refreshing, exciting feeling I’d had in a while.
 
I walked into this last Delaware trip expecting to see some of my favorite people, make a plan for the future and wish a great man a happy retirement. That’s it.
 
But I got oh, so much more.
 
I got clarity.
 
I realized that maybe I am being called to a sports field to tell stories… but lately, every bone in my body is saying maybe I’m not.

 
As I walked down the blue checkered floor of the hall where I’ve cried the saddest and happiest tears these past 4 years, when I gave the man who changed my life the most earnest thank you and when I looked at my mom’s face and saw a woman who has been just as beaten up by all of this as I have, I realized maybe, just maybe, I’m being called into the environment I’ve been in my entire life.
 
Maybe the special needs community needs me to stick around and tell their stories.
 
In a few years, maybe a worried mom in a waiting room will need some hope for her kid who is in the O.R.
 
Maybe the high school girl on crutches who truly just realized that this is her life, will see me walking a hospital’s hall and get a glimpse that life like “this” will be okay and can be great.
 
My Gator-fanatic of a grandpa is a huge reason why I am who I am and why I do what I do. He lost his battle to cancer years ago, but he taught me what it means to fight. And that even when this medically challenged world starts to look really dark, there’s always something to smile about.
 
Maybe my grandpa needs me to take some kid’s hand who just got dealt some of the most unfair cards life has to offer, and show them that lesson too.
 
Maybe the sports fanatic kids who are walking into a hospital or therapy clinic instead of a sports field like I was, need to see that there’s still so much joy you can find in the game, even when you can’t play.
 
Maybe they need to learn how your PT gym can easily become your field or court, and this crazy medical world is actually often full of the best teammates.
 
This trip gave me pretty strong clarity that maybe the athletes and passionate fans can wait.
 
Maybe, they’re not in my cards.
 
Maybe this world I’ve already been living in, the healthcare and medically challenged world, is the one I need to go tell stories in.
 
That’s why the last part of that earlier sentence, “as a patient,” screams possibility. Because maybe I will walk those halls again, but as someone else.
 
There’s so much comfort in clarity and so much possibility in a maybe.
 
Changing paths is scary. But God’s call and clarity are really cool things to feel.
 
I’m actually excited to put my sports centered dreams on the back burner this semester and explore how I can find my calling in this world I already have a perspective in. And explore how my sports centered dreams and these dreams can overlap sometimes.
 
I’ll end this one with two things.
 
First, yet another whole-hearted thank you to my Delaware crew. Because without Dr. Miller, everyone in that rehab gym, each and every one of my nurses and everyone else who helped me in these past 4 years with Nemours, I don’t think I would be realizing my dreams.
 
And without you guys, I don’t think I’d have the guts to chase them either.
 
Secondly, I’m nervous out of my mind thinking about this change in my focus. But I’m also excited. Like, really excited.
 
I’m in the process of getting ready to reach out to different amazing places like the Tim Tebow Foundation and even Nemours to see if they need a communications or marketing intern this summer.
 
But if there’s anything I’ve learned in the ride from confusion to clarity, it’s that God’s plan is amazing.
 
So, I take comfort in the fact that I believe he’ll take me somewhere really cool this next semester and this summer.
 
Even if that’s just back here, working, writing and blogging.
 
As long as I’m telling meaningful stories, I’ll be good. 

Related Posts: Dear Nemours, Ryan's  Story, Courtney's Story