Chapter Four
"It's beautiful out here," I say, paddling in the water. After hyperventilating and pacing my house in a dizzying wake of anxiety, I finally tired out and called Baxter.
He asked me if I wanted to go kayaking. I jumped at the chance since I am currently on a quest to expand my current limited list of hobbies. We rented kayaks and paddled out on Shem Creek. All the time I have lived in Charleston, I have never taken the time to enjoy the waterways. It's a shame.
Once we get past the shrimp boats, there aren't many kayakers or paddle boarders out on the water. It's around six in the evening, and the sun glints off the water in warm orange hues. This would have been a romantic date if it was a date, but this is, instead, a friend outing.
Baxter paddles next to my kayak. "It's beautiful and calm. I like to come out here sometimes to clear my mind."
Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath of fresh air, I actually feel calm. My usual spinning mind quiets.
Baxter says softly, "Look!"
I open my eyes and follow his pointed finger to a cluster of egrets roosting, stretching their long white necks out and huddling together. Even the birds are at rest out here.
Suddenly, I hear a small splash to the right of my kayak. Naturally a jumpy person, I ready myself to scream bloody murder, but then I see the beak of a dolphin peeking up from the water. The dolphin looks at me cheerfully and then disappears back under the water.
I point at the water. "Did you see that? Did you see that? The dolphin made eye contact with me and smiled!”
Baxter chuckles. "I saw it!"
"The dolphin smiled at me! Did you see that?"
Baxter continues to laugh. "The dolphin smiled at you?"
"Yes!" I point at my eyes. "With. His. Eyes!"
He grins looking out over the water. "That's why I love coming out here. I've seen so many dolphins and manatees." I'm scouring the water for more dolphins when he looks over to me. "I totally believe a dolphin smiled at you. You bring that out in people too."
I feel my cheeks blushing crimson. I want to look at his face, but I just can't. From the corner of my eye, I see his gorgeous lips spread out into a wide smile. Pointing to a pelican, I say, "Oh look! A pelican!" Dipping my paddle in the water, I move my kayak toward the bird, relieved nature has provided me with an easy distraction.
For the next few weeks, the fog of exhaustion and stress lifts off me enough that I can see clearly for the first time in a long while. It’s like having smudged glasses for ten years and finally being able to wipe them off. Without having to work nights, I’ve returned to a normal sleep schedule: sleeping when it’s dark and being awake when it’s light. It’s pretty amazing what a proper circadian rhythm can do to your failing spirits.
Betty and I have been working on a self-care plan. The first part of my self-care plan is spending quiet time alone. I’ve been practicing mindfulness meditation every day, which I thought I would hate, but it’s actually nice to take some time every day to just chill out and rest my mind.
The second part of my self-care plan is finding something to recharge my batteries daily. Betty tells me to think of a form of exercise I think I would enjoy. At first, I am completely stumped of what exercise I could possibly enjoy until, on a walk home, I see the dutiful runners running around the lake and think, why not give it a try?
Now, I have been steadily running two miles a day, increasing my mileage every week with the goal of taking part in the 5K Turkey Run at the end of November. I’ve always been a pretty lean guy whatever I do or not do, but running has toned me up a slight bit. The subtle change in my appearance has lifted my spirits considerably.
The third part of my self-care plan is the hardest lifestyle change to adopt. I am supposed to hold one focused, connected, and meaningful conversation each day. When Betty introduces this concept to me, I am flabbergasted. It’s doubtful I’ve ever had a connected, meaningful conversation with anyone in my life.
Betty presses me that this is imperative to stay connected to my emotions. Not having meaningful contact with others only isolates me and encourages the dead-end trap I fell into of losing compassion for others.
Her reasoning makes perfect sense, so I obediently follow my self-care plan, which isn’t difficult since Baxter and I have been spending a lot of time together. When Baxter paints in his studio, I tag along to work on my writing. I’m on a second notebook now and not because it’s full of negative thoughts. I have scores of anecdotes from my nursing career written and more are spilling out of me every day.
When I’m not writing, I read books aloud while Baxter works. It’s pretty fun actually. I come up with different voices for the characters to make it more exciting. Baxter says he likes the way I read, and I should consider voice acting. He’s sweet like that. Always complimenting me.
We spend our lunches discussing the plots and characters in the book we’re reading. Somehow, we have taken the lonely act of reading and reinvented it for ourselves into an engaging two-person activity. It’s nice having a book buddy.
In mid-November, Betty asks me how I feel about returning to work part time. The thought makes my stomach cramp up instantly. Because of my workaholic past, I have a large amount of money saved up in my account. There really isn’t a monetary reason for me to rush back to the hospital.
Betty presses me gently. “Erik, do you see yourself being a nurse again?”
I feel like I’m being crushed by an invisible force. My face twists in anxiety. It’s suddenly difficult to breathe. The room spins around me. Betty says in a soothing voice, “Okay, Erik. Try to stay calm and relaxed.”
Shaking my head rapidly, I take long, deep breaths. I can’t answer her question. My mind jumps to being a crossing guard. Then a teacher. Then a voice actor. Finally, the anxiety attack passes, but Betty’s question stays unanswered.
Baxter surprises me with a weekend trip to Asheville. When he assures me we will have separate rooms in the hotel, I’m inadvertently bummed but glad at the same time. Despite my conflicted feelings, we have a glorious time in the North Carolina mountains on our buddy trip. It’s the first trip I’ve taken in years.
We hike up Black Balsam Knob, a ten-mile hike through bald mountaintops. At 6,000 feet, the view is unobstructed for 360 degrees. When we reach the summit, Baxter hands me a snack bar to munch on. Our hands lightly touch in the exchange.
We both pause and look at each other, briefly suspended in time. Being up there together feels so monumental and would have been a perfect moment for a kiss. Instead, I grab the snack bar and turn away. Baxter says nothing and opens his own snack bar. We chew in silence.
At the end of November, I successfully complete the Turkey Run 5K in under thirty-two minutes. It’s only three miles and some change but I feel victorious. Baxter and I ditch both our families for Thanksgiving and have our own private shindig at my house, not because our families are terrible people or anything like that, but because we made plans to binge watch a multi-season show over the three-day weekend with each other.
We make Thanksgiving dinner together with all the normal fare—turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie—and eat it while watching. I've worked Thanksgiving Day for the last ten years so it is important to have a unique Thanksgiving celebration that I will never forget. Our special Thanksgiving is spectacularly amazing and everything I wanted Thanksgiving to be, without ever knowing it.
The week after Thanksgiving, Betty asks me to imagine myself working one twelve-hour shift. Just one. I sit on the yellow fluffy couch gripping one of her flowered pillows, waiting for an anxiety attack to explode inside me. When it doesn't, I tell her that I wouldn't be opposed to it. Pausing to think more about it, I decide I would actually look forward to it.
Wanda is more than happy to take me back even if only one day a week. We make an agreement that I will work day shift from now on. Betty and I discuss how keeping my sleep schedule will help me to not relapse. Wanda puts me on the schedule for Wednesdays. Unexpectedly, I find myself a tad excited to get back to work.
The next Wednesday, I show up to work with my stomach in knots, but after weeks of practicing meditation, I'm pretty much a pro now at calming myself down. The shift is busy and we are short staffed as always, but I'm not charge nurse so I can just focus on my two patients and not all the patients in the unit at one time.
After twelve hours, I clock out relieved and rejuvenated. It was a good day. I was able to interact with my patients and their family members without feeling stressed or exhausted. Even though one of my patients was critically ill on continuous renal therapy with five IV medications that I had to continuously adjust based on vital signs and urinary output, ventilated and sedated, I didn't feel too stressed to handle my tasks.
When I get to my house, I see Baxter sitting on the porch with a bouquet of red roses. The red roses freak me out because they mean love, but I know it’s too late to sprint the other way because Baxter already spotted me.
He greets me with a huge smile on his face. Wrapping his strong arms around me, he asks, "How did it go?"
I pull away awkwardly. "It went okay."
"So, I've made reservations at Grill 155 to celebrate! I thought we could go on a real date."
I'm annoyed with him instantly. "A date? I never said I was ready to start dating." Crossing my arms, I feel my irritation rising.
Baxter's happy face falls in confusion. "I thought that once you were done with self-reflecting and getting over your compassion fatigue, you'd be ready to date."
Pulling my keys out, I unlock the door. "You thought wrong. I'm not ready. For God sakes, it's only my first shift back. Give me some space!"
Baxter pushes the roses into my hand without looking at me. I can see tears filling his beautiful brown eyes, splintering my heart.
Why was I such an asshole?
"I'm sorry. I just..." Baxter says softly before running down the steps and down the street.
Regretfully, I watch him go. I don't even consider going after him because he's probably better off without me in his life.