Chapter 1: The Unexpected Journey

It was never meant to unfold like this...

I often find it astonishing to encounter individuals who have undergone multiple significant surgeries. My own experience with "major surgery" is limited to the extraction of my wisdom teeth at just 14. Thankfully, that was in the '90s, well before the trend of capturing the vulnerable moments of patients recovering from anesthesia became popular. If you missed it, social media was flooded with amusing yet cringe-worthy clips of patients babbling nonsensically on their way home.

My partner, however, has faced a staggering ten surgeries, and I have assisted him during half of those. It might sound like I'm fishing for sympathy, but the real suffering lies with him. Caretaking is no small feat; it often feels like a full-time job that many of us never anticipated, even if it falls under the "in sickness and in health" clause of our vows.

As someone who identifies as feminine, a bodyworker, and the child of a nurse, you'd think I'd navigate this role effortlessly. The reality is, while I handle it relatively well, it also highlights a significant challenge: I'm still learning to articulate my own needs and accept help, let alone support someone else.

This struggle became painfully evident just ten weeks after relocating across the country. Following an unforeseen accident, my husband required major reconstructive surgery on his shoulder. I felt an overwhelming sense of isolation as I took on the responsibility of caring for him completely alone.

To my disbelief, he was discharged the same day, which felt absurd given the severity of the operation. Maneuvering him into our new high-rise apartment was a challenge in itself.

To effectively use the home care machine designed to alleviate inflammation by keeping his shoulder cold, I realized we needed ice—specifically, at least one five-pound bag from a nearby convenience store. The dilemma? I had no one to ask for help and couldn't leave him unattended.

Fortunately, I had a knack for making friends, likely a skill honed through years of changing schools. Since our move, I had shared many elevator rides with a friendly young man named Ray, who often walked the dogs from my floor.

That evening, as we returned from the hospital, I encountered Ray in the hallway, just finishing a walk with two large pit bulls. Seeing the distress on my face, he kindly inquired if I was okay or needed assistance.

"Yes, please," I responded, tears welling up.

"What can I do for you?" he asked calmly.

"I need two five-pound bags of ice from the corner store. I’ll pay you when you return," I managed to say.

"Absolutely, no problem. I’ll be right back—keep your money," he replied, disappearing quickly.

His generosity was a profound reminder of the importance of community. Without a neighbor's timely support, I wouldn't have been able to provide the medical care my husband desperately needed.

We had moved to this area seeking deeper connections—hoping to engage with SCUBA diving groups and others in our new tropical environment. Yet, due to the surgery and the lengthy rehabilitation that followed, we found ourselves unable to dive for at least nine months. The pandemic further isolated us, leaving us stuck indoors.

I could have ventured out alone, but that felt unfair considering my partner's disappointment. Missing out on building relationships within the SCUBA community was hard, especially since we had already lost a significant chunk of the dive season after just two dives.

So instead, we remained home, gazing out the window and at each other, grieving the loss of yet another year.

It's curious how we often believe that a change in scenery can help us escape life's challenges.

Chapter 2: Finding Support in Community

In the video "5 Lessons I Learned by Moving to a New City Alone," the speaker shares key insights about embracing change and building connections in a new environment.

The second video, "What to Do When Moving to a New City Alone," offers practical advice on navigating loneliness and finding your community after a big move.