The Disaster That Brought Me To Phoenix: Part 2
“Wow, you really banged yourself up good pal,” the doctor attempted to make conversation to take my mind off what he probably assumed was the painful procedure that I was enduring. “Yeah, I guess so,” I muttered weakly. I was in no mood for conversation. I wanted only to wallow and then, hopefully, figure out some sort of solution. As the doctor finished up and presented me with some ointment to apply, I managed to pull myself out of my head. “Now I know you are probably in a lot of pain. I can prescribe you some medication to help with that.” I declined his offer for painkillers. I’ve never been a big fan of pills and I didn’t want to diminish any of my feelings or sensations. Sometimes when bad things happen, it’s best to embrace the pain. That fact that you feel anything at all means that you are alive at least. And mentally, I don’t feel that any good ever comes from running away from feelings whether positive or negative.
My car, goals, finances, and part of my face had been destroyed, but at least I was alive. This thought calmed me down for a brief moment. I realized that I was tired, exhausted. I needed a shower and a meal, perhaps more sleep. Those would all have to wait, however, as I had a significant and likely uncomfortable call to make regarding the job. Just as I expected, my boss, while sympathetic, was very clear about the fact that I would not have the job if I was unable to go right then. My speculations became true and my goals were officially crushed. I didn’t want to talk to anyone else and I didn’t want to do anything at all. When I arrived home, I went straight to my room and said nothing. I chalked this day up to a loss and decided to try again the next day.
As it turned out, even my plans to do nothing and merely end the day were thwarted as I could not sleep. Day turned to night and another sunrise quickly approached as I sat up in my bed frustrated from not being able to sleep. After exhausting every tool I thought I had at my disposal, I tried the last thing I could think to do. I prayed.
“Dear Lord, thank you for all you have given us. Thank you for watching over us and keeping us safe. Thank you for sparing my eye and for the presence of and quick thinking of my father. Lord, I thank you for giving me the energy and ambition to set and achieve significant goals. Thank you for giving me a thirst for knowledge and the means necessary to quench that thirst. I am forever grateful.
Lord, I am at a loss. I find myself in a situation that seems hopeless. I cannot function in the day, nor sleep at night. I don’t know what to do about any of this. I am scared. Please, Lord, help me find my way. In Jesus name, we pray, Amen.”
Some days later, I received a letter from the insurance company. I tossed it aside expecting it to bear more bad news. I had spent the past few days applying for jobs that I didn’t want. It wasn’t fun. I wasn’t happy, but I was hopeful. Another day passed, and in an effort to straighten up the filthy environment in which I found myself living in, I went to take out the trash. On top of the pile was the unopened letter from State Farm. I placed the trash bag down and opened the letter. It started with a reminder that my Porsche Boxster S had been very severely damaged. It went on to say that the damages were so significant that they were not going to be able to justify paying to get it fixed.
I didn’t think it possible for my heart to sink any lower. There goes my dream car. It had been the physical manifestation of my prior successes. It was the result of a goal that was set at a time when I didn’t even have a job, much less a plan. That Porsche was the reason that I got up and worked my ass off every morning. And now it was gone.
Overcome with emotion, I dropped the letter along with my head. How did I get here? What could I have done differently? I sat there for five minutes or so, frozen in disbelief. When I came to, I picked the letter back up and continued to read, having braced myself for the worst.
I read and I read, and eventually, I came to a part that shook me to my core. I re-read the section several times not believing my eyes. The letter said that because the car was totaled, they were going to pay me what they thought it was worth. This was certainly a step in the right direction, but the real kicker was in the next sentence. Essentially, what they found from their research was that the car was worth an amount equal to roughly $5 thousand dollars over what I paid for the vehicle. The final sentence initiated the swiftest and most radical increase in mood that I’d ever experienced. My mind began to race again, this time with productive ideas and potential opportunities. I suddenly was given the often taken-for-granted gift of options.
I thought long and hard about this new information. I researched other Porsches in the area and actually found a newer and nicer version of my deceased love for a price within my range. I contemplated getting into day trading stocks and cryptocurrency. The cash that I was to receive was enough that I could probably make enough by day trading volatile stocks to survive. Ultimately, I decided that the money would be best used to get back on track with my initial plans. I no longer had a secured job in Phoenix. I didn’t have a place to live or a way to get around in that foreign city. Nonetheless, I decided to call my best friend and ask the question that would forever change the course of our lives. “Hey man, we should be in Arizona right now. You down to make a move?” The next day, we bought one-way tickets to Phoenix, told everyone we knew we were going on vacation, and never looked back.