It always comes unexpected

Summer 2008, after the company I was in charge with got scammed, and I became unemployed, lost all my savings, buried my 49-year-old father, and just before I left my apartment because I couldn't afford it anymore and moved back to my mother and grandmother…

I burned out for the first time…

Depression and hopelessness snuck into my life and replaced ambitions and motivation, as if these never existed in me.

The feeling that life is not worth living.

I was 26 and for months, whenever I tried to fall asleep, I had this feeling as if someone was choking me, breathing suddenly became impossible.

It became so bad, that most of the nights I jumped out of the bed screaming, gasping for air like a fish on dry land, moments before I realized that I can breathe again.

After hearing me scream every night, my mother finally managed to convince me to go to a full checkup, just to make sure that there is no medical issue causing it.

Since, frankly speaking, I was smoking 3 cigarette packs a day, and was more often drunk than sober, while my physical activity was reduced to a walk to the bar and back home, so a medical problem was rather probable than possible.

The day I met Bobo

I had a major fight with my girlfriend two days before the checkup.

No wonder though, I was broke and she was 200 km away and still going to school. So, in order for us to meet, I had to wait for my mother to get her salary, or some relatives to send us some cash over.

As someone who used to earn a lot in the past, I couldn't stand it to wait for someone to give me the money I needed for a trip to visit her, and further to have to ask someone, anyone to sleep in their apartment while visiting her city…

So I started a fight and she broke up with me.

It was hard, but, deep down a part of me was relieved, because,… Well, lets face it, I was a wreck and I was pulling her down.

All the potential I had was gone, and at that time I was just waiting for the police to come and get me, or someone who was scammed by the company in which I worked, to come and kill me…

Not quite the situation you want to bring someone you love into.

During the checkup there were no irregularities with my respiratory organs, my heart nor my thyroid gland

Some good news at last.

But the checkup found something, which I haven't expected to be there:

A 2 cm long compact gallbladder stone, which I from there on called Bobo

Bobo in a bag. Banana for scale

Stoned living

Bobo, was also the reason my former girlfriend (now wife) came back to me.

She was scared when she heard about it, we talked, we came back together, and never broke up again.

In retrospect… I would not be here without her, she pulled me up when I was down, stood to me when everyone left, defended me when everyone was against me.

And love, friendship, thankfulness and a deep understanding keep us still together.

Bobo was not a bad “Body-mate”, I actually barely knew he was there.

There was some food I had to avoid, like Goulash which he didn't like at all, and I had to cut down on alcohol, which wasn't so hard. But, in all the years we spent together, he attacked me only 3–4 times with some nasty inflammations.

Which, if you never had one, feel like someone is stabbing you between your shoulders and into your liver every couple minutes for a few days. Plus, you have an urge to move for no reason, and feel that, if you could just take a good dump it would all go away, but it doesn't.

So you spend these days sleepless, and mostly on the toilette.

Bobos´ final strike

Fast forward to Autumn 2015. Bobo was in a shitty mood, and he struck me so hard that I was out of commission for 5 days.

It felt different this time though.

I had gallbladder inflammations before, but I never felt so drained. That week I barely ate, barely smoke, didn't drink any coffee… I just slept the whole week, and the few moments I was awake I looked and behaved like a zombie.

In the following weeks, my intestines behaved differently.

Being bloated became a 24 / 7 thing, my afternoon coffee made me feel nauseous. My stomach felt heavy, but I ate only minimum amounts.

The doctor couldn't see anything, all my results were clean, so I waited for a while just hoping that it will go away.

But it didn't. Bobo had to leave.

Gallbladder stone removal is nothing special. Laparoscopic gallbladder surgery is made with 3–4 small incisions, and leaves almost no scars. There is even a method called “Da Vinci Method” which requires only one cut, and that one is in the bellybutton.

I made my arrangements at work, which means I told my clients (I am an inbound marketing freelancer ) that I will be unable to work for 2–3 weeks. And prepared everything at home for a maximum of one month of income loss.

The surgery was scheduled for a Friday 13th, which was not a good omen. I was calm when I left my home, but the closer I came to the hospital, the more afraid I was.

What if some complications happen?

What if I cant work for a couple of months?

What if I die?

I have a small son. He was 11 months old at that time. My wife is freelancer too, but she doesn't earn enough to support herself and my son. I had, and still have no savings. Past 3 years I was just building up my life again from zero, and everything I earned went either in my debts, or as investment into our home.

The fact that scared me the most was:

If I would die today, my son would have nothing which I achieved for him. No security, no own home, nothing. I would leave my family unsecured.

I quickly wrote instructions to my wife as an SMS draft in my cell phone. Instructions with my important accounts, my contacts, my clients, people who can help her to grab the ropes fast, and try to retake my work.

My good friends in the industry who could help her in the first few weeks, or at least I hoped if worst became reality, that those two people would help her.

But it didn't give me any ease

Friday the 13th came

I woke up from the anesthesia with burning pain in my side, a throat as dry as the Sahara, and a feeling that I have to stand up immediately. I tried for five times to get up, but it hurt as hell, and when I fought the pain I was just pushed down by some hands which I didn't recognize.

I begged for water, but didn't get any.

I tried to place myself in a comfortable position, but there was no such.

And then I passed out.

For 3 days I couldn't sleep…

The only times I was sleeping were actually the times I passed out, either from painkillers or exhaustion.

When I finally came to my senses, the doctors explained me what actually happened:

I was weeks, maybe days away from dying in the streets without knowing that something is this wrong with me.

It was a standard procedure, one surgeon, one assistant, one anesthesiologist and 40 minutes of estimated surgery time.

Three incisions were made, and the doctor proceeded to open the gallbladder. What he didn't expect was, that instead of gallbladder acid the only thing coming out of my bloated gallbladder will be puss.

He made a full cut, cleaned the area, and asked his assistant to call the 2 other surgeons to help him.

The gallbladder became necrotic, the tissue over it was trying to protect the body by enclosing it. They had to clean the tissue, remove the gallbladder, and make sure there are no leftovers of the necrosis.

Instead of 40 minutes it took almost 3 hours, instead of one surgeon, three had to work on me.

The doctor admitted that, if he knew upfront what he would find there, there is no chance he would have opened me in this small hospital, but what was done was done.

I survived, but am I smarter?

No day passes that I don´t think about making some difference in my life. I had so many great ideas, which could have made me a rich man, and secured my son for a lifetime, which I just couldn't or didn't follow up on.

I keep Bobo on my work desk to remind me that every day is a gift.

Sounds cheesy, right?

But it is true. Every day I can spend with my wife and son, every great talk I have with clients, colleges or just smart people. Even all the people we met in our life and which had an impact on it.

Everything was and is a gift which I try to cherish more.

I started my first own project: A marketing blog and business experimenting platform Geekups.com , it is not yet fully there, but it is much better than nothing.

I tried to connect with all the people I lost contact with.

The past few days I spent talking to friends which I saw for the last time in 1997, before leaving Germany. And a girl I met for the last time in 2002, and she used to be my best friend for a long time.

I play more with my son, talk more to my mother, my grandmother, my brother.

I try to be the best husband to my wife, to help her, support her, love her.

I apply for jobs outside of Bosnia, since I know that my son will not have the possibilities here to reach his potential.

The result of these applications were two rounds of interviews with HubSpot for the position of Content Manager DACH area, and 2 still open testings for other companies.

I don´t want to regret not being my best self when the day once comes in which I take my final breath, it feels like shit knowing that you could have done better.

Thank you for the time you spent reading this, I hope you will not have to meet death up close to think about your current place in life.