The first time I met David, I was working my normal graveyard shift at the homeless shelter. It was an average night, and I was working away at my checklist for the evening. All of a sudden one of the residents came to my office to tell me his roommate was having a wacky dream because he was rolling around on the ground. I went to the room to check on him, in the crack of the door I could see exactly what was happening. David, our newest resident, was having a seizer. I took a half a second to compose myself and then leaped into action. I rolled David onto his back, held his head between my legs, and called the ambulance. It wasn’t long before David was loaded up and on his way to the hospital.
A few days later, in the middle of the night, David came to my office and told me he couldn’t sleep. He was a little concerned he might slip into another seizer. I told him I would love the company and we talked. For hours we talked. I learned all about David. He was a husband, a father, a former business owner. We talked about politics, traveling, sports, and eventually, our conversation led to the reason David was in the shelter: a long battle with drug addiction.
David pointed to his missing right leg, “That’s the injury everyone sees.” He continued, “What really hurts is my kids hate me, and my wife lost faith in me long ago.” He spoke of how most of his life he had avoided drugs and alcohol. However, life got tough. Bills piled up and he began using as a way to escape the pressure. Soon enough he had lost control. The business was gone, the house was gone, the cars were gone. He was on the streets just looking for his next high, his next opportunity to escape the reality that was his life. David looked at me, with tears in his eyes he asked, “Do you want to know when my whole life fell apart?” Probably looking a little shocked I asked David, “You know when that was? You can pinpoint it?” Almost laughing through his tears, he blurted out, “I bought a truck.” Wait, his whole life was destroyed because he bought a truck. I was curious.
David must have read my thoughts from the reaction on my face because he continued, “Most of my life I was a very giving person. I always seemed to be taken care of so I never needed anything. I was content. Then one day my car broke down and my wife and I were carpooling back and forth. As I finished a long day of work I was waiting outside of my shop near the street. My wife was late and as I waited my employees drove by on their way home. I was embarrassed; I mean, what kind of boss doesn’t even have his own car to drive home. I worked across from a Ford dealership and so I was tired of feeling this way. I had forgotten that my needs were always met. At that time, contentment equaled embarrassment. I actually convinced myself that because I was a giving guy life was unfair. Maybe if I stopped caring about everyone else and I focus on me good things will come my way.” David laughed “When you’re not careful you will convince yourself of anything” he laughed. “So for once in my life, I was going to do something for me. I walked across the street, and in three hours, I drove home with the sweetest truck on the lot. It felt good to do something just for me. Little did I know that pleasure of self-gratification would consume my life. It wasn’t buying the truck that started the chaos it was that I started to make every decision based on what made me feel good. When I had the choice between doing the right thing or personal pleasure, I would always choose me.” David took a long silent pause, he looked down and then back up to me. “Don’t fall into the same trap I fell in pay attention to the small decisions in life, I have known all along that I was making the wrong choice but it always easier to choose me over the right thing and here I am today.” After another long silent pause he said “No that I am here I hope I can finally turn things around. Get back to where I was: content, happy. “
Unfortunately, David never changed his situation. His residency at the shelter was short-lived as he was soon found trying to get high in the bathroom. I see David from time to time begging outside of Starbucks or passed out in the park. I have tried to talk to him a couple of times but he doesn’t remember me. Every time I see him I am reminded of our late-night discussion. I remind myself to pay attention to the small decisions if you mess those up the big decisions will soon fade away.
