A Constant Reminder

Dear Friends,

I believe it was Hemingway who borrowed from a John Donne poem when he utilized the statement, "Do not ask for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee." I went to my October 5th battery of tests for the Clinical Trial I am on and the results were very positive. Liver, kidney, lung, and heart functions all positive. 14.1 Hemoglobin! Resting heart beat in the '70's, blood pressure great. After looking at all the results, Dr. Matt Taylor said, "I've got nothing for you." Meaning, "I cannot find anything wrong." I said, "You just gave me everything." He smiled and we hugged. I was blessed to have my son-in-law Steve Arnst with me as the family now divides up the escort service since Donna went back to work. I want everyone in my family to meet Dr. Taylor whose positivism is clearly a factor, along with your prayers, in my the success so far in my journey and battle with cancer.

The constant reminder came when Steve and I were walking to my appointment and a woman was laying on the floor in one of the hallways being comforted and cared for by a number of health providers at OHSU. She had become weary on her trip to the office and had to lay down. She was slight, bald, and cancer had obviously been very, very hard on her. When you get to the 7th Floor at the Center for Health and Healing at OHSU,  we all have something in common. I looked in her eyes as I went by. Pre-cancer, I used to walk by the Oncology Department at the Corvallis Clinic and not look in because I did not want anyone to think I was staring. At least that is what I told myself. In retrospect, I likely thought if I didn't look in then I would never be there. Now, I looked down at her because I did not want her to think that I thought there was something wrong with her, she looked funny, or I didn't see her.

Three weeks earlier as I sat on the 3rd floor waiting for my blood draw, a woman sat in a wheel chair in the corner waiting to be scanned. I get a CT scan every six weeks so I knew what she was waiting for because she was drinking from the world's largest glass of water. The only way to explain her to you was that she looked like the people who we have seen in the Concentration Camp survivor films from World War II. She was painfully emaciated, all skin and bone. Three sips of the water and she had to bend over to rest, which she could do from the waist down nearly flat because she was so skeletal. It was was heartbreaking. I could have picked out the 7th floor people on the 3rd floor because we were the ones looking as positively toward her as we could. The other folks, quite understandably, looked away, like we often do with homeless people, as if she wasn't there. My son JJ was with me that day and he was visibly moved as was Steve this trip at the woman in the hallway.

The Dark Voice said to me, "What if that is you one day? Can you handle it? Will your children be able to handle it? Will anyone come with you? Will you want to live like that?" I do not want to be offensive to any of you who do not believe, who are not theistic. I respect your strength and courage to be able to face and live on your own. I mean that. I am not that strong and I went immediately to God and asked for comfort, guidance, health, healing, and a miracle for me, and the women I was seeing. I asked God to silence the dark voice and used the statement that Jesus made to Peter when Peter tried to get him to avoid Jerusalem. Jesus said, "Get behind me Satan." In other words, "Shut the fuck up. I am trying to live my life here. I am trying to fulfill my destiny." The constant reminder to me is that while I am doing great right now, I may not be doing great later. And even if I am battling and the medication is working, it is not working right now for someone else. Since I believe we are all connected, we need not ask for whom the bell tolls, it toils for you and me and all of us.

I shared what I had seen with Dr. Taylor and told him that sometimes I feel guilty because I am doing so well. He said he didn't allow any Survivor Guilt with his patients, and that I was something he could hold up to himself and his staff in the midst of the terrible week they had experienced the week before. Steve said on the way home, "Gee, I wonder what a terrible week is for an oncologist like Dr. Taylor?" A great question from a great son-in-law who took a day off work to face the music with me.
Again, the lesson seems to be, "Get in the moment. Seize the day. Be present." We all behave as if we will always be here, the future is secure, and we have control. Control is such an illusion. We are all one phone call away from our knees. Perhaps we should all get on our knees more often when things are going well for the times to come when they aren't going so well. Practice makes perfect. As my friend Geoffrey Canada of the Harlem Children's Zone said, "The thing about faith is that you have to have it before you need it."

Yesterday I met with the boys and girls soccer teams at Corvallis High School to talk with them about the death of former boys coach John Callahan. JC was beloved and the players were really reeling. Further, they played their rival Crescent Valley that night. 500 shirts were given to all the players from both teams, alumni, and anyone who had been coached by John. He would have wanted them to play the game he loved with all his heart. As you can likely discern, he died of cancer. I talked to them about the rain falling on the just and unjust alike. I told them that I could not prove to them the existence of God, but I could guarantee JC's immortality if they would always remember him, his lessons, his love of them and the sport, and then live each moment with passion and presence. I reminded them of the four student athletes; Beamer, Bingham, Burnett, and Glick who took down the terrorists on United Flight 93. Rick Reilly said they did what all great athletes can do: Keep their composure amid chaos; Form a plan when all seems lost; and Find the guts to carry it out. Lives were lost but many more saved on the ground because they looked death straight in the face and carried on.
I asked the young men and women soccer players to do the same, and through tears they said they would.

And that is exactly what I am trying to do. I am scared to my core that I will wind up in the corner wheel chair on the 3rd floor. Please don't let my outer profile completely hide my inner fear. But I am trying to look at it square in the eye and not look away. I am trying to use the time and health I have right now to do some good for someone else. This also gives me hope and purpose. I pray every night for all cancer patients, their families, and their Doctors, Nurses, and Researchers. I am not asking you to look directly at your mortality, but I am pleading with you, begging you, asking you with all my heart to look at your opportunities to be the person you have always wanted to be, help others on their journey, and tell the people you love that you do love them. As Coach Bruce told JJ and his football teammates shortly before cancer took him home, "Boys, it's all about love. Love is all that matters. Love each other as a band of brothers." Bruce was right. Jesus was right when he said, "Love your neighbors as you love yourself."

My current health is the result of great research, excellent doctoring by Dr. Taylor, good meds, your love and prayers, and the healing power of God to look into a person and cast out the demon diseases within. Let love, not the fear of the future, be the constant reminder that life is good, life is hard, and the love we give one another makes the road less bumpy, the pain more bearable, and the good times even better. Here is your Constant Reminder for today: I love you all!

Will