John Evans: Tick and Thump

After a serious surgery, John Evans shares why we should make the most of our time.

After my open-heart surgery last March, I expected pain, recovery and maybe some clarity. I just didn’t expect the sound.

My new mechanical valve ticks like a metronome—precise, impersonal and constant. It’s not even a tick, really. It’s more like a handful of coins thrown into a well. Centrifugal, echoing and resolving in a whoosh. Over and over.

When I inhale, the sound grows louder. The thump is stronger. I asked a nurse if that was normal. He nodded. “It’s good,” he said.

I’m an optimist. I’ve endured widowhood, divorce and now this, and yet, I hold to the belief that the universe tends toward good. That healing happens. That time itself is a gift.

Still, this sound—this tick and thump—reminds me constantly that time is passing.

I hear it while cooking, while walking the dog, while lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, willing the world and the sound to disappear for a few hours each night, and give me a little peace.

Sometimes, it feels like a taunt: “You are wasting time.”

There were years when I believed I wouldn’t live much longer and thought I’d seen the end.
But the truth is, I hadn’t. I didn’t see the end. It hasn’t come yet.

So, I’m making the most of the time I’ve got. I want to hike the Camino de Santiago with my kids. I’d love to join the Peace Corps again when I retire. And one of these days, I’ll successfully graft a Meyer lemon cutting onto the Navel orange tree in my backyard. And while I do, I’ll listen to those steady, sixty-odd beats a minute. Tick. Thump. Tick. Thump. For now, I’m still listening.

With a Perspective, I’m John Evans.

John Evans teaches writing and leads workshops on memoirs. He lives in the Bay Area and loves hiking with his three sons.