“You either get busy living or you get busy dying.”
The Shawshank Redemption
As I pointed out in part 1 of this blog, I had come to grips with the magnitude of my health issues, recognized the fact that I had played “staredown” with my own mortality and did some hard thinking about my life.
My friends and coworkers generally consider me to be a good-natured guy who is always there with a joke or a pick-me-up comment.
I have been known to say such things as “if you’ve made the decision to get out of bed, then try like hell to have a good day.” It’s corny but some look for that stuff to get into a better mood. If that doesn’t work a little self-deprecating humor always does the trick. So when people started treating me a little differently after my illness (looks of pity that I fucking hate, tiptoeing around me) I quickly remind them that I am not dead, I am here and quite happy about it! I don’t do pity or sympathy. When I had my left testicle removed and several rounds of Chemo and Radiation ten years ago everyone treated me like I was dead already. Until one day when I joked that I wished everyone would stop “breaking my ball”. First they looked at me in disbelief and then they laughed like hell. One of my finer moments. So after I recuperated this time I decided to be more upbeat than usual.
The week after I returned to work, friends of the family lost a 3 month old baby. What do you say to someone in that situation. The baby was born with severe birth defects and was not given a good prognosis. But is still stung like hell when it happened. The couple is not doing well, drinking a lot and struggling to maintain a normal life. So I try to offer some nuggets of hope and inspiration. While I have never lost a child I can certainly relate to it, right? I am a father after all. Wrong, wrong and wrong again. It is probably ten million times worse for them than I could ever imagine. So anything I say is going to sound like just words. Sure words mean well, but they are just words. I wasn’t helping but at least I tried. And I am still trying. Through thoughtful acts and generally watching out for them. But someone is always there to counter your efforts with something.
I work with the young man who lost his baby. He comes to work each day and really makes an effort to stay focused. But his eyes are dead and he is very angry. He is not at acceptance quite yet, he is in the anger phase. One day an insensitive ignoramus coworker just said the wrong thing. Miserable bastard that he is he was talking negatively about his younger son. I am not being judgemental here, he really does not like his son and is quite vocal about it. He remarked, in front of my friend, that he wishes his son had never been born (he is 8). Not realizing the insensitivity of his comments, I quickly tried to change the subject. Too late, my friend screamed at him “hey asshole I’ll tell you what, why don’t we trade places. What the fuck is wrong with you!” And he stormed off. If the offending party was expecting forgiveness from me, he was wrong. When he looked at me I shook my head and reiterated “yes, what the fuck is wrong with you? You just wished away a kid to a guy that just lost one!" Idiot.
What am I so worried about, they’re just words. Right?
Next installment: what do you say to a guy with 6 months to live?
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