Last night I was very sick and I was alone as my partner had left for a business trip for a few days. Actually I had already been coughing for a few weeks, and the night before I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t breath properly when I was lying down. So somehow I already considered to go to a doctor, as it seemed my body was not capable to deal with what was going on by itself. And I know ‘weeks’ may sound strange and very long, but I have quite a history of allergy type problems, so even though I was a bit concerned already, I tried to see if my body could cope with this by itself, as it mostly does, at least after I decided that I didn’t want those millions of medicines that Philippine doctors tend to prescribe, contrary to what is common in The Netherlands, where I grew up.

Anyhow, to make a long story short, last night turned out to be too much and I was really scared. And at first I tried to calm my mind, tried to ‘vibrate differently’ as per ideas of Abraham Hicks. This didn’t work, no matter how I tried, but of course i was trying too much. And somehow, somewhere I turned to prayer, praying to God if he would help as I didn’t know anymore and was even scared to die. Which also was basically okay as a few months ago I really wanted to die and that thought is also still with me, even though I have turned that thought around in something like ‘if things go better I would be happy to live longer’. So I thought I might have gotten what I wanted, but everything in me said something like ‘not this way, not suffering like my dad in his last weeks’, as the thought of lung cancer came to me, the thing my father died from in the end.

Somehow I forgot about the prayer, and in the end I decided to call my partner, suggesting that he may want to come back, as he already asked many times before he left if it was okay to go. And believe me, that was not easy for me to do, as I had to swallow all my pride, admitting I had made a big mistake, misjudging my illness. And like what he often calls ‘not being honest’. As of course, looking back, I should have visited a doctor earlier because apparently this illness did not go away by itself.

And while writing now I realize that it is not easy for me to ask for help, at least not in the right way. Somehow I am too proud or too independent to surrender when I don’t know anymore. And I need to be very gentle now with myself, as I know this is not a pride that is my fault, something I often feel when trying to get things from people. And the reason is that I often just choose the wrong way for asking for help. And the reason for that is that I somehow never learned how to do that. And I know some possible reasons like my character, how I am built, or maybe how I grew up or maybe because I am gay, which I am quite sure enhanced some of the strangeness in me in a very awkward or bad way. So I am thinking about the movie Good Will Hunting, which is about something similar and where to me the main phrase is “it’s not your fault”. And that is what I still need to learn, that it is not my fault where I am, how I still consider myself a complete failure, consider myself completely useless (to the world, to my partner, to my mother, to ???). And I see that confirmed constantly, as I still don’t have enough work, or don’t ‘earn’ enough money. And I still don’t have friends (here). And my relationship still has some major issue to solve, an issue that is behind most of my unhappiness, behind most of what I seem to transmit (and what other people feel and react to). Indeed, some kind of vibration, and I know what it is and I know what it causes, but I don’t know how to solve it (ask for help maybe?).

So somehow, somewhere, early, I gave up, I gave in. And called my partner, indicating that I didn’t know anymore, that I was scared. And I didn’t know what I expect, as often my partner starts blaming me for all kinds of things if I want something, need something. So yes, that’s a big thing for me, making a phone call like that, after my partner had already asked several times if it was really okay to go and where he indicated he was on the boat already.

But somehow he wasn’t angry, just a bit annoyed I guess. And I don’t remember what we exactly discussed in that first phone call, but shortly after he called me back and said that Charlyn, our helper, Sally Grace, a good friend of us, and his mother were on the way to our house, to Cagayan de Oro City. And I felt embarrassed, as I don’t feel entitled to so much attention, to so much care. As I don’t deserve it, as I don’t ‘earn’ enough, as I can’t take care of myself financially right now, and for quite some time towards the past also, if not ever. But I knew I couldn’t do anything, I knew I needed help and that I had to accept all of this, even though I felt embarrassed.

And here I will make some jump in time, as a few hours later I found myself in the hospital, in the emergency room and not with my family doctor. And of course my first thoughts about people putting me in an emergency room bed were about how much this all would be going to cost, something that is really a big thing right now, as I don’t really have a lot of paid work at the moment and we only have the cash for one or two months of living, better called surviving. And I have no clue what is going to be next and I don’t know how I am going to pay my health insurance somewhere the very beginning of next year. And please bear in mind, these are thoughts that are kind of unbearable for me, as this is not the way how I grew up, this is not the way how I want to live, this is not the way how I believe life is supposed to be. I believe life is to be enjoyed, lived, not being just experienced, not being ‘survived’.

And then, somewhere at the beginning of all of this, this being put in a hospital bed (instead of being just listened to by my family doctor), this being pampered, this being taken care of, I realized that my prayer was answered, the prayer I sent to God earlier this morning, the prayer that I didn’t know anymore, the prayer that I needed help, that I really needed help. And that my prayer was being answered in a way that was way beyond anything that I had ever asked for in that short moment I sent it to God, to the Universe. And I realized that indeed the accepting seems to be the hard part, the accepting of all the good things that come to us. I realized that I didn’t even remembered having sent such a prayer, so how could I ever be ready for the answer, any answer. And somehow I know prayers are being answered, even though I don’t pray that often, and that often would mostly imply some emergency, something I want, mostly not even something I need, like in this case. So I realized I needed to accept what was going on, what was given to me. And that I was given way, way, way more than I could have ever imagined when I sent this little cry of help up, to God, to the Universe a few hours earlier. As my partner was not angry, maybe even happy as I had given in to what my body had been telling me for quite a while, that it needed help to deal with some stuff it wasn’t able to deal with. And the people coming to me, being with me were probably just happy helping me, happy to see me needing help, as I don’t show my needs often to other people, or show it in a very bad, demanding way. So the help was just given, freely, happily, and not something like me being a hassle to other people, something I often feel.

And of course on the background there was still some noise about the ‘money thing’, that I couldn’t afford this when I was being pampered with all kinds of tests and x-rays and medicines prescribed, an overdose in my opinion, coming from another culture, and again, expensive. But somehow I started to realize, to feel that I needed this pampering, that I needed this attention, that it was a good thing, that things were coming to me, that I needed to accept. And that this was indeed the answer to the little prayer I sent out earlier. And that the answer was much bigger than I could have ever imagined. And that my only job was to just listen to the answer and receive it. And just believe.

And that many things are just a matter of perception, of how you think about situations and things. Like focusing on the attention or the money (being taken care of in an emergency room or just by your family doctor). Or focusing on the abundance or the shortage (the medicines in this case).

So thank you, all people being there for me, when I was really in need, even though it’s sometimes still hard to accept. And thank you, Lord, for listening to my prayer, and answering it in a way, way bigger way than I ever would dare to ask for.

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