Saturday was the 4th of June.
This really should be a day which is etched in my brain and scratched in my calendar forever.
So, on Saturday it was two years ago that I saw that first patient back on a Thursday at our brand-new clinic when I presumed, we were all going to die.
Two years on everything has changed and everything is different.
Everything that was supposed to happen did, buildings sold, clinic filled, bank accounts rejuvenated, staff all paid properly, security regained and (apparently) sanity returned.
Probably by the time it gets to next June, the anniversary of that day will pass me by without even noticing as I fill my life with the strains and troubles and stresses and issues that are occurring that week or that month.
It will always be worth it though, for me, to return back to what it felt like in May 2020 when I genuinely believed that the bank were going to take my house away and I would have to look my family in the face and say sorry for all the things I have lost.
In some ways it feels almost too easy now and for me that is a very dangerous place to be.
The troubles that I encounter at work on a day-to-day basis (although still things that raise my heart rate) are not really troubles at all.
It would be fine for me to lock the door and walk away and leave the carnage to somebody else at the bank to sort out (no plans to do this) and in that there should be a freedom to do what I want, when I want and to return to a situation that I was in before but I’m not obsessed with survival but I’m more concerned about happiness and contribution and trying to use as much of the privilege as I have to make a positive difference.
Funny day the 4th of June, makes me think a lot.
Blog Post Number - 3104
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