A First Encounter: Part Two

Deciding to push my luck, I rolled back to the nurses’ station, and before I knew it, Shay and I had a plan to head to the nearest supermarket to get ingredients for drum roll please… vanilla cupcakes or chocolate brownies; whichever was feasible. He quickly signed us up officially on the board as baking buddies.

“I can’t believe that just happened. Seriously, why didn’t you stop me?” Like always, I was grateful that I could shield my shame from the general public. Ayomide was clutching her sides, cackling away as tears streamed down her face. “You…are…such…a….head-case, she managed to utter in between laughs.

In ten minutes, he stopped by my room and we strolled/glided oh-so-casually to the corner shop. Oblivious to the cracks in the pavement, I felt like I was on the yellow brick road, heading to the wonderful city of Oz aka Morbury Express.

“So…”, we said at the same time. We both chuckled and uttered the word jinx in unison. “You speak first.”  One point for him. He’s also a gentleman, I thought. “Erm, how long have you worked at the Millie?” I was struggling to conceive the most mundane question when the most important one was swirling around in my mind – how did he get here? My inner curious cat had awakened and she accepted that a rapport had to be established.  He explained how he was backpacking in northern Australia prior to accepting the locum OT position at the Millie. He preferred road trips to flying because one can experience better, visceral, and richer interpersonal interactions that make up the colourful tapestry of life. Surfing was his fave outdoor sport and “Singing in the Rain” was his go-to belt-out song in the shower.

A ghastly chill hit us in the face as the sliding doors whooshed open. At Morburys,’ I barely paid attention to the people milling about picking up various items for a quick bite on the Tube or their weekly shop. Everyone was scurrying around trying to get what they needed. You could hear the squeaks of the trolley wheels and the clacking of the trademark maroon handles of the shopping baskets rubbing up against each other. As we conversed, it was obvious that we instantly had palatable friendship chemistry. We debated DC versus Marvel, Resident Evil vs Tomb Raider. Bollywood vs. Hollywood and everything in between. We almost nearly forgot we were at crunch time. We needed to figure out what we were baking; adorable vanilla cupcakes with sprinkles or cutesy bite-size chocolate brownies with crushed up Smarties. But we were so engrossed in our lively debate, time just slipped away. The grocery list was pretty simple in the end. A carton of Aunt Jenny chocolate brownie mix, two packets of Smarties, flour, eggs, sugar, some Choco Milo and a bottle of semi-skimmed milk. Seems that they were out of vanilla Victorian sponge cake mix.

Evening came and we had decided chocolate brownies were indeed the way to go. My mouth was salivating (mostly because I loved that we were both huge fans of Batman). He wheeled me to my room like a true gentleman. “Thank you for agreeing to be my baking buddy and wheeling me to the store. Cannot wait for tomorrow.”

“Why did you decide to become an occupational therapist, if you do not mind me asking?” For a split second, I thought I saw his beautiful smile disappear. His eyes seemed sad but that could just be my erroneous interpretation. He sat on the couch in my room and brushed away the wisps of blonde hair out of his eyes. “Eight years ago, my family got some news that totally shattered our world. My mother was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and just like that, our family dynamic shifted in ways that I could not foresee. Growing up as a lad in Sydney, I was always so close to my mum. She was so present, lovely and kind. She was magic. She started reading to me and my two sisters very early on and there was a library in every house we lived in. We would spend hours, learning about the different literary worlds. That’s kinda where my love for books comes from. Also, in my later years, graphic novels are a uniquely beautiful way of creative expression, where prose and images work together to drive a story forward.

Over the years, my mum’s health deteriorated rather quickly. Since M.S is a degenerative disease, she began to lose control of her motor functions, central nervous system… The sentence stopped there. Shay paused, clearing his throat to disguise the fact that his voice was breaking. He turned his head to hide the unshed tears, sighed deeply and continued his heartbreaking monologue. “Now, she is in a wheelchair. She can stand for a few minutes at a time but she gets exhausted easily. Physio helps some but it’s still tough to see her in so much pain. She also needs help getting dressed, eating, having a shower so we all moved back into the family home to care for her. We hired a live-in carer from Melbourne. Lovely lass by the name of River. She takes care of my mama at night mostly. We just try to be there for her as much as we can. Show her that we love her, that who she is at the core of her being hasn’t changed. We watch old episodes of Golden Girls, Home & Away and Full House, whilst one of us massages her feet. The crux of the matter is caring for her awakened something in me. This need to be there for others who do not have a strong support network, to let them maintain their dignity and treat them in a way that their diagnosis will not alter who they are as people. Being a locum OT is ideal because I save enough to travel. That way I get to impact and touch as many lives as possible. Let people know they are not alone.” He looked up and made eye contact, before glancing at the floor again. “I’m sorry. It feels like I have been talking for eons. Did not expect to go quite so deep,” Shay said, blushing as he was adjusting his man bun.

“Do not worry about it. I am really touched you confided in me. I am so sorry about your mum. She is lucky to have such a kind, caring, noble son like you Thank you for trusting me. Even though we met less than twelve hours ago, you’re kinda like my spirit animal. Feels like we have known each other forever. Do you mind if we hug it out?” 

He pulled me closer into a warm embrace. This is really nice, I thought to myself. Resisting the urge to smell his hair and burrow my face in his neck, it was just nice to be in a proper hug. Ever since I got injured, my hospital visitors seem afraid to hug me properly. Like I am some frail porcelain doll that needs to be treated with extreme care and caution. So, being enveloped in a friendly cuddle was a welcome change from the back pats and side hugs.  For what felt like an awesome eternity, he extricated himself and bid me adieu. “Rest up. We have a full day of baking tomorrow,” Shay strolled out of the room, with all the confidence of someone who had a great day. It took all my strength not to stare as he sauntered away.  Suffice it to say, I lost that battle.

Nearly falling out of the chair, I was super excited for tomorrow for I knew there were going to be fun-time shenanigans. My PJs were laid out on the bed by my mum. I slipped those on after a hot shower and it felt like I was floating on air. Unfortunately, the realm of Morpheus was beckoning. My eyelids fluttered and the last thought was I cannot wait to hang out with him tomorrow.