Things I’ve Been
Told
My
grandmother always used to tell me that God had something in store for me. And
so I waited and waited and … waited. Nothing ever came of it, so I moved on
thinking nothing would ever come of it. Along the way, I figured that God,
either, had something/everything in store for us all or He had nothing in store
for any of us whatsoever. It just seems to me He’s one of those guys – all in or all out – not one of those kinda-sorta-may
be-in-between guys.
See,
on October 5th, 1985, I was diagnosed an acute form of leukemia. I
had been sick for months, but had been diagnosed with slurry of infectious or
contagious diseases that had kept me home from school in the days leading up to
my diagnosis. On October 4th, I had been home having breakfast and a
conversation with my mother. After about thirty to forty minutes at the kitchen
table, I stood to bring my dish to the sink, but … I couldn’t straighten my
right leg. The inside of my thigh was painful and the vein running from hip to
knee was a bright pink-red. None of this was present when I sat for breakfast.
I
was immediately taken to the local hospital, but, was only kept overnight. They
didn’t seem to want anything to do with me …suddenly, the current diagnosis of
mono and ‘kissing bandit’ moniker dissipated as my illness took shape as
something much more dire and serious than anyone had thought. The doctors
transferred me to Children’s Memorial Hospital in Chicago the next day, October
5th.
The
doctors and Children’s Memorial already knew what I had (probably) before I
even got there, but, ran the tests as procedure. It was about three p.m. when
the hematology/oncology doctors, my parents and I crammed into a small white
room containing a smaller bed and an even smaller desk for the end result. I
had A.L.L. – acute lymphoblastic leukemia, a blood cancer. The pain and red
vein in my right thigh were a result of my advanced illness. I was so filled
with cancer, it was filling my blood vessels, capillary by capillary, vein by
vein; it had nowhere else to go. So, what did that mean for me? I may need to
have the right leg amputated at the hip, but, let’s not get too far ahead of
ourselves … I may not even get to see Christmas. I was told that it would be a
true gift if I made it through the holidays.
A
few hours later, I was finally admitted – officially. It was about 6:30 p.m.
when I, at long last, settled into my room for the evening. My mother stepped
out to the cafeteria for some coffee or something, leaving me in a precarious
and dangerous situation – alone with my pops. Being caught alone with him is
dangerous because it gives him free reign to do or say whatever he wants with
no one to bear witness to his deeds – a great tactic. So, he seized the
opportunity like a crocodile wrapping its’ mighty jaws around a gnus’ neck to
draw out any chance for escape and drown any possibility of hope.
Now,
keep in mind, I’m thirteen and had just found out I may lose a leg and might
not make it to Christmas, much less any life beyond. He seized the opportunity
to tell me that ‘… if it doesn’t work out, not to worry about it [he] has
another son to carry on the last name.’
That,
in a nutshell, is the relationship I have with my father, and mother.
I
went into remission November 5th, 1985 – all parts intact - and have
never looked back.
I’ve
had lots of time to think about what I heard – nearly three decades. I had
always wondered what God had in store for me, when I’d receive it and why it
would take a near death experience at the age of thirteen to bring that on. Is
that what it takes to put ‘what God has in store’ into motion? If not, what
would it take?
I’ve,
sorta, come to figure that it isn’t so much about God and all the angels in
Heaven as it is about the human condition. Cancer happens every day. People are
born. We live, we die; life goes on here on earth and in Heaven (depending on
your beliefs). But, what remains is how I’m left wondering; How do we handle
the life we’re given? How do we handle the sunny days? How do we handle love?
How do we handle the job we always wanted and didn't get? How do we handle crisis, when
bad news is wrapped in tragedy?
Sometimes,
perhaps always, life is about the next guy.
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