A Lesson from the Hospital Bed
Embracing Resilience and Lessons from Pain
Sometimes we get so caught up in our own struggles that we forget how vast and varied human suffering truly is. Just days before Christmas in 2015, I was in that place, overwhelmed by pain, frustration, and a deep sense of helplessness.
What started as a stubborn stomach ache turned into five days of agony and hospital visits. Painkillers only dulled the edge. Eventually, the doctors told me I needed surgery. “It’s not life-threatening,” they said. “You can live without this organ.” Still, the idea of going under the knife filled me with unease.
As I lay on the operating table, a doctor asked, “Are you ready, Sir?” I nodded nervously. Then came the syringe - and darkness.
From total darkness, I woke up in a place I never expected to be.
I found myself walking through a beautiful garden, peaceful and green. Beside me was a kind, fatherly presence, we spoke quietly, as if I’d known him forever. I was about to sit beneath a tree when I heard a voice calling me back.
“Wake up, Sir Ulysses.”
I opened my eyes to a recovery room buzzing with activity. Pain pulsed through my body, but something inside me had shifted. That brief vision, whether a dream or something more, gave me a sense of calm I couldn’t explain.
Later, resting in my hospital bed, I caught a news segment on the war in Syria. The story focused on a man who had lost everything: home, family, safety. Standing among the ruins, battered and broken, he shared a prayer that stunned me: he asked God for the gift of death.
He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t bitter. He was simply tired. And yet, even in that moment, he clung to faith.
His words humbled me. While I was complaining about surgery and discomfort, this man had endured the collapse of his entire world. And still, he chose honesty and prayer.
I realized then how often we take life for granted. How easily we focus on what’s missing, our fears, our losses, instead of seeing what we still have. My pain was real, but it was temporary. I had family, shelter, love. I had another chance.
Those days before Christmas reminded me of some things profound:
In bad fate, some are left begging for their end, yet many of us are so worried about losing it, clinging even the last chances of keeping alive.
This life is a gift from God, a gift that’s far too easy to overlook.
And I’ll never forget that garden and that man in the rubble.
Both reminded me that even in suffering, there’s something sacred: the strength to keep going, the grace to be thankful, and the faith to trust that even in darkness, light still finds a way in.
"God give us a gift of life and it us up to us to give ourselves a gift of living well." - Voltaire