As the light bust through a-beat-up shade where he was waking up.

All my friends were there, I looked around me and a great feeling passed through my nerves; extending from my neurological response and crossing the physical barrier while applying itself to my bones. I just couldn't believe what was happening though, its not everyday that you are driving on the American coast line in a convertible. Why not have the top down? I looked around and distinctively remember seeing my friends faces, I could make out familiar laughs and comments that only a few could ever make in that tone and sincerity. I laughed at the thought of coming home, everyone had already forgotten what home meant; this was home for us now. I could feel the warm sun kiss my skin, while the cool breeze skim the back of my neck infiltrating from the open window to my left, and as I looked across; the vast coast line opened up to the magnificent blue. The feeling of freedom most prominent;  overtaking every other emotion at the time, and I could feel a great sense of satisfaction. But where does this time go? I could feel a sense of consciousness shiver over me, before I realised the great big turtle statue at least a hundred feet tall. Wait, what? It doesn't matter anyway, I'm with all my friends, I am exactly where I want to be, but I definitely wanted that radio off. Who turned on that song anyway? and why is so repetitive? we all joke about it and blame each other for the poor selection of frequency. Why hasn't anybody turned it off? I decide to lean forward from the back middle seat, over her shoulder, reaching my hand over the brown leather gear stick and out to connect with the dial. Whoops, the volume dial does not change anything except making it louder. Wait, why is there a snooze button on the radio?

My eyes hit the entering light as a look around to find myself in bed, that dam radio still playing that awful pop song that is so repetitive, so I turn the bell charms off. Dam! it's time to get up and work! The rest of the road trip will need to wait at least 18hours. I rise to the cool air surrounding my bed, hitting the shower with sore muscles from last nights boxing session. the body then fuelled before taking the 8minute journey across the Storey Bridge and into the Mater Hospital car park. By this point; things are regular, same area of the car park, the same walk down through the scaffolding of the new hospital being built, across the pedestrian crossing, down the slight hill, into the staff entry with my swipe card, the 46second wait for the lift to pick me up from level two, and the ever so illusion corridor that always tricks me into thinking that the change room doors are closer than they really are. The familiar beep the change room doors swipe access make is comforting in a way, if I'm on time it means I'm here on time, if I'm late, well, it doesn't discriminate. past the naked man that looks different everyday, and down to the scrub trolley to pick out my large top and bottoms; before entering my locker key to retrieve my Nikes. 

Change room talk is on of my personal favourites, exclusive male talk, after we talk about trucks and female body parts, we talk about how much rain we got the night before, farm land, directions and cardboard boxes. All personal I assure you, it's personal because of the underwear in which we speak in. The quick two-minute coffee is the last stop before making my way down the fire stairs and into the main theatre floor. it is here where I complete my daily routine, finished off by signing next to my name; always a nervous time for me, because this is where I confirm to myself that I am on the correct shift, and that I'm not 6hours early. Once that ink leaves the page however, my day begins; it is here the routine regular becomes the unknown; as everything past this point is irregular and unpredictable. Turns out that I am working on the General Theatre list, it doesn't look too bad. Such weird perspectives when you work in theatre, theatre scrub/scouts judge their day by what makes the theatre lists, how long the page is and what procedures are on it; you quickly read the procedures and make a judgement on whether the list will finish on time. The Anaesthetic team reads the list and quickly calculates the age of each patient, whether they are male or female, then look at the procedure to try and determine why they are having the surgery and what complications it could bring airway and anaesthetic wise. Recovery staff read the list in numbers and the visual representation on the page; meaning, if the page is super long, recovery knows it’s going to be a long day. 

As I enter theatre 16, there is the usual sight of the Anaesthetic Nurse/Tech checking and stocking the anaesthetic machine and equipment, always the same; Morning, good morning. the chilling air covering my exposed skin, the cold steel benches and open space; sucking out all moisture and humidity to create a dry cold environment. There is calmness about a theatre first thing in the morning, its quite, people are either fresh or fatigued from the late night at work. I push down the stock trolley with all our surgical equipment, three levels of racket; organised in trays and labelled accordingly. Before long the rest of the surgical team appear, and momentarily there is a communication analysis on each other, each reading one another and determining what the day has install for them.

  

The theatre was full, a small number of medical personnel filled the stage, the walls had seen many before them and will continue to witness the marvel once they are gone. The creaking floor played witness to many blood spills over many battles, the struggle of man portrayed in many styles as to many artists. A great dense historical feel echoing off the walls, as the curtains has closed many chapters and stories, many characters as well as props have also seen the inside view of the stage curtain. The cast of this particular play are both well experienced as well novice, many roles have fallen and many have triumphed,  each and every cast member having a particular role, congregated together to create a symphony of co-operation and brilliance. The energy created on this stage is enough to fill a whole house of brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers, all watching with anticipating eyes; playing witness to the great story from beginning to end. The intermediate breaks filled with late nights, coffee, hope, fear and struggle as the night turns to day and life continues and ends. 

The main character centre stage, stage light shining through the cold air and fixed. Fellow stage members surrounding the wounded soldier playing the role of salvation and redemption; off to prove themselves while conquering their greatest fear. The stage has been set for an inspirational return to paradise, having one last chance to correct the mistakes and misfortunes of the past, a deep thought confronting each and every one of them. Will they overcome this great domineer  to once again return to their loved ones and proclaim their victory. The villain playing the dark host hovering in the background amongst the vast columns. Sword still bleeding the pain of its victim, waiting in the shadows to cast the final blow, and slay his victim to the ground.  The heroic lead having one last stand against his enemy, with no might to match. Eyes weary and skin cold, blood traveling slow and exposed, looking to the light above and having peace, having what he believes to be his last thought. There is love in him, a hope that shimmers amongst the torment of his pain and suffering, but a hero is not to be ruled out. A great energy of an army of thousands descends on the very hill, a saviour among them perhaps.

The hero of the story has no face, no name, but rather an energy contained from past battles and struggles, ones that has been learnt and studied. Many have fallen before and it is only due to the expanding love and care that this hero is able to provide a shelter to the weak, and give everlasting hope for at least one last time. The hero lifting our battered soldier from the depths of darkness, the villain slayed, the pain leaving the body and replaced with life; now, he the soldier must return to the audience and deliver his masterpiece.

I lay in bed, thinking of my dream that I had the night before, I smile, an internal happiness transcend into my thoughts as I think of the adventures I am yet to experience. I decide at that very moment to have those thoughts while I drift away to sleep, confident that I will continue to chase that dream for as long as it takes, and wherever it takes me. For I know that, this world holds a place for me and everyone else who wishes to join me. The radio playing on the background, a cool wind enters the room while I close my eyes tighter, for the wind is too strong. The coast just as beautiful during the sunset as it is sunrise.