the pathos less traveled
the past few weekends we have been visiting charlotte's dad. he has lymphomic leukemia; and although he has been doing really well for the past 7 or 8 years, he is currently very ill. this is my first experience with md anderson cancer center in houston. i have always heard that they are the premier oncology experts in the world, and i hope this is the case. charles seems to be feeling better even if his kidneys are still not functioning and he isn't really getting better...yet.
sitting in the hospital for hours on end gives much time for reflection; and even as a visitor, i have had some time to remember and consider life.
on 13 august, 2004, i was involved in a fire. i was burned over half of my body, and spent a week at brook army medical center in san antonio. fortunately, we live very close to this world-renowned burn facility. fortunate for me because they are the best, and unless you really know where to look, and for what; most people would not be able to recognize any differences in my skin. it really is amazing. spending a week in the hospital is pretty grueling. the boredom is rampant and the onset of depression is a real thing. even though i was only there for a week, and i knew i was soon to return home; even i began to feel these harrowing effects. anger is also a symptom common to long-term patients. the literature and talk concerning the warning signs and remedies for these phenomena are ubiquitous on certain floors of all hospitals.
one week after returning home (i spent almost all of that week in bed, also) my 15-year-old dog, zazu died in her sleep. it was a depressing day. i began the day pretty excited as it was my first day to leave the house. i was walking out to take jackson to school when i found zazu lying in the spot in which she had died overnight. after calling charlotte, and dropping j-man at school; i came home and began to dig a grave for my friend. remember, i had just recently gotten out of the burn center, and i was forbidden to get any direct sunlight on my body. in the hottest part of the summer, i was out digging a huge hole in jeans, a long-sleeve turtle-neck, gloves, and a bucket hat. the heat, coupled with my having been on my back for two weeks was exhausting. what should have been a difficult task was made infuriating due to my fatigue, over-heating, and nausea. i loved her, so i kept going until i was finished.
the very next morning, charlotte and i returned to brook for a checkup at the hospital. on our way there, we got the message that my sister-in-law had taken a horrific fall and was critically injured. it seemed impossible for us to believe that anything fatal could have occurred, so we decided some facts must have been misrepresented. they were not. during my examination, charlotte received the phone call telling us that rhonda was dying. it seemed surreal that while these physicians were analyzing my skin's recovery, and attempting to predict the degree of permanent scarring i would have, i was completely disinterested in what they were telling me. we hurried them through the appointment; but, we didn't make it back to austin until after rhonda had died. her injuries were massive, and i hate that the last time i saw her, she didn't look like anyone i had ever before met.
those two weeks taught me a lesson that many before me have learned much sooner than i did: life is fragile, and no one can know when it will end. freak accidents, long term illness, and old age are strangers that pass us every day. often we don't notice them, because we are so focused on the trivial matters of life that we make into urgent action items. often we don't notice them because they are not yet ready to reveal themselves to us. there is no avoiding the introduction that awaits us, there is only preparation for the reception.
i know too many people who pass up opportunities to experience fun, or newness, or excitement. they hoard their time and money and emotions as if they were items which can wish to be unused. i wish this were not the case. i have always been a person to enjoy spontaneity and levity; but the events of last summer reminded me that living is more than just working, paying bills, and going to crappy parties you wanted to skip. now, we skip them. i have other things i'd like to do. things i'd like to do with my family, and what few friends i have.
one of the things i hope jackson takes with him into his life is his memory of the fun we had together - doing things that were extraordinary, seeing places that were beautiful and exceptional, and laughing and having fun though it all. the knowledge i have and the experiences we have together are the only really lasting things that he can take from us when he goes off to live his life. i hope i give him enough to fill his mind with illumination. i am sure going to try.
sitting in the hospital for hours on end gives much time for reflection; and even as a visitor, i have had some time to remember and consider life.
on 13 august, 2004, i was involved in a fire. i was burned over half of my body, and spent a week at brook army medical center in san antonio. fortunately, we live very close to this world-renowned burn facility. fortunate for me because they are the best, and unless you really know where to look, and for what; most people would not be able to recognize any differences in my skin. it really is amazing. spending a week in the hospital is pretty grueling. the boredom is rampant and the onset of depression is a real thing. even though i was only there for a week, and i knew i was soon to return home; even i began to feel these harrowing effects. anger is also a symptom common to long-term patients. the literature and talk concerning the warning signs and remedies for these phenomena are ubiquitous on certain floors of all hospitals.
one week after returning home (i spent almost all of that week in bed, also) my 15-year-old dog, zazu died in her sleep. it was a depressing day. i began the day pretty excited as it was my first day to leave the house. i was walking out to take jackson to school when i found zazu lying in the spot in which she had died overnight. after calling charlotte, and dropping j-man at school; i came home and began to dig a grave for my friend. remember, i had just recently gotten out of the burn center, and i was forbidden to get any direct sunlight on my body. in the hottest part of the summer, i was out digging a huge hole in jeans, a long-sleeve turtle-neck, gloves, and a bucket hat. the heat, coupled with my having been on my back for two weeks was exhausting. what should have been a difficult task was made infuriating due to my fatigue, over-heating, and nausea. i loved her, so i kept going until i was finished.
the very next morning, charlotte and i returned to brook for a checkup at the hospital. on our way there, we got the message that my sister-in-law had taken a horrific fall and was critically injured. it seemed impossible for us to believe that anything fatal could have occurred, so we decided some facts must have been misrepresented. they were not. during my examination, charlotte received the phone call telling us that rhonda was dying. it seemed surreal that while these physicians were analyzing my skin's recovery, and attempting to predict the degree of permanent scarring i would have, i was completely disinterested in what they were telling me. we hurried them through the appointment; but, we didn't make it back to austin until after rhonda had died. her injuries were massive, and i hate that the last time i saw her, she didn't look like anyone i had ever before met.
those two weeks taught me a lesson that many before me have learned much sooner than i did: life is fragile, and no one can know when it will end. freak accidents, long term illness, and old age are strangers that pass us every day. often we don't notice them, because we are so focused on the trivial matters of life that we make into urgent action items. often we don't notice them because they are not yet ready to reveal themselves to us. there is no avoiding the introduction that awaits us, there is only preparation for the reception.
i know too many people who pass up opportunities to experience fun, or newness, or excitement. they hoard their time and money and emotions as if they were items which can wish to be unused. i wish this were not the case. i have always been a person to enjoy spontaneity and levity; but the events of last summer reminded me that living is more than just working, paying bills, and going to crappy parties you wanted to skip. now, we skip them. i have other things i'd like to do. things i'd like to do with my family, and what few friends i have.
one of the things i hope jackson takes with him into his life is his memory of the fun we had together - doing things that were extraordinary, seeing places that were beautiful and exceptional, and laughing and having fun though it all. the knowledge i have and the experiences we have together are the only really lasting things that he can take from us when he goes off to live his life. i hope i give him enough to fill his mind with illumination. i am sure going to try.
posted by cm at 1/24/2006
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