From Patient to Pirate: Navigating Healing Through Art, Adventure, and Surgery

Life can take us in unexpected directions. I was a normal child of average weight until puberty hit me by force. My body started packing on the weight regardless of my caloric intake. I was incredibly active all my life. Through sports, I was able to channel my anger and frustration

towards my situation. It was an ugly battle, medically speaking, diet plans, countless tests and nothing worked. As my body continued to increase in size, I became more and more desperate to find an answer. Continuing to manage my diet, I was unexpectedly faced with a series of medical challenges due to an antibiotic- resistant staph infection I picked up in the hospital following a routine back surgery. It didn’t respond well to treatment, as I was placed into complete hospital

isolation, my brain couldn’t grasp what was to happen next. Over the next year, I faced four

emergency surgeries, battled kidney failure, wound packing, potent antibiotics with adverse side

effects and a miryad of pain medication. The pain was unimaginable. Each step in the recovery being faced with the most extreme of challenges. Each encounter tested my will and spirit. My daily routine consisted of dressing changes, managing antibiotics, and consuming a range of pain medication at maximum dosages. I wasn’t able to move much, and had very few outlets to manage how I was feeling. I became a walking pharmacy to treat an infection that set up camp like it was on vacation. Recovery took a year and during that time art became my power in healing as my body fought to put out that fire.

Art became my pillar of support during a difficult time, enabling me to express my feelings and thoughts through paintings and drawings. Each artwork I produced mirrored my path to recovery, capturing both anguish and optimism. Engaging in creative expression allowed me to navigate

emotions that words could not convey, revealing concealed sentiments and deepening my self-

awareness. Art provided a secure environment to confront fears, pain, and personal identity, bridging challenges with resilience. Through artistic endeavors, I discovered empowerment and renewal, embracing vulnerability and my anger. Creating art continues to play a crucial role in my ongoing journey of self-discovery and healing, offering steadfast encouragement.

The Power of Art in Healing

Art has been a constant companion in my life, but its significance deepened during my recovery. I learned that creating art could be a profound way to express emotions, allowing me to work through my struggles.

Tip 1: Use Art as a Medium for Expression

I found comfort in sketching and painting. Each brush stroke became a release for my fear and pain. I painted one piece each week to document my feelings over time. It turned into a moving reflection of my healing journey, and one that I can no-longer look at. Whether it's through painting, writing, or any other creative outlet, I encourage you to explore something that resonates with you. Let your emotions take shape, even if some creations will never see the light of day, like mine did. The journey itself was helpful, and the paintings and drawings were not the final product, my healing was.

Spiritual Connection Through Adversity

During my physical battles, my spirituality emerged as a crucial support system. Instead of viewing my challenges as insurmountable, I began to see them as opportunities for growth, and a chance to learn the skillsets for the bigger picture of things I wanted to do. It may have been self-preservation, but I believe I was held in place to learn things to design my character for who I am today.

Tip 2: Cultivate Mindfulness

Incorporating mindfulness into my daily routine helped me maintain balance during turbulent times. I practiced deep breathing, and meditation for 20 min a day. This simple act made a notable difference. Meditation and quiet moments also allowed me to harness my spiritual connection, igniting my creativity and helping me savor the few good feelings I had. It also helped during the insurmountable pain.

A Journey through Weight Loss and Recovery

Years later, I faced a new obstacle when my obesity led to severe back problems. The previous surgeries resulted in my weight to skyrocket, which resulted in 10 back herinations, 9 of which were during a calendar year, and all because my body couldn’t support the weight. It was crushing itself. Something had to be done, and my only option I hadn’t tried was yet another surgery. I was apprehensive, as per previous surgeries didn’t go well. It took 3 years to jump

through the hoops but after undergoing gastric bypass surgery, I lost an incredible 350 pounds in just one year. Despite my concerns, the doctors

were happy the surgery was a success,

however I felt so incredibly unwell. The rapid weight loss brought about heart issues and significant physical limitations that I was not expecting.

Tip 3: Listen to Your Body

After my surgeries, I learned the hard way that recovery isn’t a race; it is a journey. Initially, I was eager for the almost-immediate results. I ignored my internal self, screaming for the weight loss to slow for the excitement that it wouldn’t be a part of my life anymore, however the heart inflammation and issues still were. I shifted my focus to gradual strength-building. Activities like walking for 30 minutes each day and gentle yoga sessions became vital in my recovery, helping me regain my strength without putting too much strain

on my body. The beginning was hard, I had lost consciousness in a parking lot when I should have been listening to my body’s signs. I felt vulnerable and that I wasn’t in control anymore. I faced patterns of low heart rates and arrhymitha that I now felt weighed down by. My body seemed as thought it had malicious intent on making me fail in life. I had just lost the weight, and I felt more down than ever before, a deflated shell of who I was, I had to pick up these scattered pieces and say all was well. That was the hardest part. While people were celebrating the weight that was not there, I felt as if I was dying inside, a slow, miserable and painful death, and yet I craved more from life.

Embracing the Call of Adventure

After dedicating myself to healing, or improving what I could, I dreamed of adventure—sailing and creating art on the open sea. This was the most extreme dream of happiness I could imagine, something that felt it would make all the previous struggles worth it. My dream had always felt somewhat unreachable. The image of my dream boat, became a source of excitement. I envisioned the sails catching the wind, the sun hitting my face and my easel on deck. I would hide in this thought all the time, and though it felt too ambitious for nearly 10 years.

I had spent nearly a decade battling my body, working on gaining my health back, slowly recovering and gaining strength. I learned how to manage my symptoms, eating for my diabetes, and understanding how my arrhythmia played a part, a combination of sleep, hydration, fuel and monitored activity, leaning how to side-step the situations that made it worse. And using each collision to learn what my body can handle, and what it cannot. Adapting a much slower pace, I finally for the first time felt on top of things. And with a newly defined picture of what I can and cannot do, I decided I can sail, with specific modifications to manage my health. And a good safety and support system for when things go wrong.

After a much long discussion with my parents, who continue to be a guiding light, we decided I had enough of life’s ups and downs, and its time for me to sail on my own. Upon my mother’s suggestion of making a list, one describing everything I dreamed of in a boat, regardless of how small and insignificant these items were, she said it would help define my picture in my head and it did and she emphasized one thing:

be specific.

Be Specific.

When I reached out to a broker to help me find a boat, he joked about my ambitious request. It was in the kindest of nature he said I was unrealistic. But deep down, I felt an undeniable pull toward this life and the adventures waiting for me. He kindly told me to look in other countries because the boat I wanted “wasn’t available in Canada”. I dreamed of a 50ft steel cutter, twin keel, with pilot house and electric winches so I didn’t have to strain my body. I wanted a full galley, because I love to cook, a bench seating for all of the times I spent in restaurants with my mom and nana, surrounded by my two favourite woods, teak and cherry. It had to remind me of my cottage with wood paneling and I dreamed of an “engine room” it would have, a full place to store all of my tools and boat parts, because I wanted to do all my work myself, and to have an easy time doing it. It needed to have a large desk for my art, room for my stuff and it had to have a pirate ship feel and it had to be vintage, not new. and it had to be full-steel with no fiberglass. I wanted her twin keel so I could beach her, with full navigation systems, an outside helm and the ability to single-hand her. She needed to have auto-pilot and have her be in Canada, no more than 5 hours away so I could drive and see it, without flying somewhere, and dark in colour. I also wanted it to have a ford Lehman engine, specifically the 4-cylinder model, I wanted the name to be meaningful and I wanted her to have a prestige. My list was not small and my mom's words gripped hard, “if its meant to be it will be”, this dream yet again felt unreachable, my mom emphasized being specific, so I was, dangerously so. And became unwavering in that. I had seen a few of the brokers other suggestions, each inappropriate for my conditions, I had been feeling the insurmountable hopelessness in the reality of it, yet I had this conviction to the packaged idea of it “all” in my head.

And at this time, I was tired of looking at and visiting the wrong boats. Being sent listings for something too small, too large, leaking, needing everything overhauled, sloops over cutters and I felt like an over-stimulated goldilocks. Each time passing on a boat, I thought, maybe I’m on the wrong path for me. I questioned my feelings, this belief in my dream and I asked for a sign. All I

could picture was this blue bird in my head, I thought how unhelpful of a thought it was. I went out for a coffee, exasperated, but this nagging feeling about this bird drawing, I felt in my soul I had to get it down on paper, as I drove, that feeling increased. I drew it out, frustrated during because I wanted a boat, not a bird, and here I was with yet another stupid painting. This was not at all in the life I wanted. And It was depressing. I finished the drawing, snagged a picture and threw it on a shelf in exhaustion, maybe I need to rethink my plan. At this point, I gave up, and essentially said “f&%# it” as I threw my dream on that shelf with my painting too.

Tip 4: Follow Your Instincts

Two weeks later, at 11 o’clock on a Sunday night, my phone rang. My broker called with promising news—he found the “perfect boat”. The level of his excitement was not matched by myself, I had remained unenthuastic, and almost upset at the interruption. Yet as I prepared for my first visit, doubt crept in. Others haven’t been great, I had turned down several boats before, hesitant to commit to the wrong one. Still, my instincts urged me to take a chance. If he wasn’t so insistent I saw it the following day, I probably wouldn’t have went. I mock myself for how much I gave up. After the phone call, I received an email with the buyer’s package about the boat, I put off opening it for a few hours, until it peeked my curiosity. This is when I saw a 54’ steel cutter. The pictures made it look empty, I glazed over them, other pictures have made other boats look good, I was in doubt. I opened the survey when I saw the words:

Boat name: Blue Eden

Type: Twin keel Cutter

Hull: Steel

Model: Blue Bird of Throne

Engine: Ford Lehman

Model: 4-cylinder

I froze, and felt chills as my mouth gaped open. I can only imagine the look I must have had on my face.

The Journey to Blue Eden

I drove three hours to answer the call, my excitement tinged with doubt. After a snowstorm, climbing aboard felt surreal. There she was—my dream boat. Standing before me, Blue Eden finally became a reality. In two feet of snow. In that moment, my heart raced with a mix of thrill and disbelief. I wandered aboard looking in every nook and cranny, filled with my own self-created doubt.

Tip 5: Don’t Hesitate, Take the Leap

Right then and there, I made a bold move and offered the asking price, the words drifted out of my mouth before my brain could make another decision. My next proceeding thought admittedly was, “oh shit.” It was a decision driven by intuition, a nd not one of confidence and I was kicking myself for speaking so freely. And that’s how I officially became the captain of Blue Eden.

The Bond with Blue Eden

Since taking the helm, Blue Eden has transformed into my sanctuary—a haven through storms, both literal and metaphorical. Together, we have created countless memories, painting sunsets and encountering life in extraordinary ways. I have sailed her through the Great Lakes including Georgian Bay, Lake Huron, Lake Erie, 2 rivers, Lake St. Clair, the Welland Canal and Lake Ontario. Replacing boat parts and refurbishing the hull along the way. My fear, has eased.

Reflections on Resilience

Looking back, the challenges have shaped who I am today. Even with a humorous twist—a "mutiny" of sorts from my crew on the first sail—I realized that every facet of my journey has contributed to my growth. I rebuilt my life not only through sheer determination but also through creativity, resilience, and a core belief in the beauty and surprise life has to offer. That we get called to our adventures and eventually, if specific enough, the unrealistic can become reality.

Embracing Ongoing Adventures

My transition from hospital rooms to the open water symbolizes the intertwined nature of art, spirituality, and healing. It serves as a reminder that while life can be challenging, beauty and adventure lie in wait. If you find yourself grappling with struggles—be they medical, personal, or emotional—my hope is that my story motivates you to explore your creative passions and heed the call for adventure. If you are feeling driven enough, it can happen. If you feel it will be, then it will be.

Always remember: healing is more than just the absence of pain. It is about rediscovering who you are, nurturing your passions, and daring to dream. There is a world of beauty ahead—embrace your journey. And maybe, just maybe, you just need a change of view. Yes, I still have heart issues, but now I sail too, and I respect the hell out of myself for that.

Incase I don’t see you,

Good Morning.

Good Afternoon

Good Evening

And Goodnight.

-Kate xo