November is upon us. That means we here in the States are starting to
look
forward to that very special family holiday of Thanksgiving. It will be the
beginning of
the season when most of us reflect on what we have to be grateful for during
the past
year. I've doing a lot of that earlier than most. Nearly dying from a
cerebral
hemorrahage in the middle of September can do that. On Thursday, one day short
of seven
weeks since my hemorrahage, November 1st, All Saints Day, my 67th birthday, in
the
neurosurgeon's office following a follow-up CTA scan, I received the best
birthday gift
I've ever been given. After emphasizing that I am a "very, very, very, very
lucky man,"
with a smile on his face, the surgeon told Susan and me that while no one can
say other
than "a non-artery blood vessel" hemorrhaged or why it occurred, I do not have
any
aneurisms in my brain. I need not worry that it will happen again. Susan's
smile made a
Cheshire cat look like a scowling grump. The doctor kicked us out of his
office and, with
a hand shake and surprising hug, said he never wanted to see me again. And
although I'll
have an uncomfortable stiff neck for a while because of what he called a
"chemical
meningitis" caused by the free blood in my brain and around my spinal cord, he
said the
scan showed the blood was gone, he released me from all restrictions, took off
Susan's
ankle monitor, told me to wean myself off the doses of Motrin, gave me
permission both to
go back to classroom next semester and to go to China during Maymester. I can
slowly--
very slowly--start getting my energy back and getting things back to the way
they were.
Well, I really can't.
Three weeks before Thanksgiving, I continue to be embraced by an
overwhelming
feeling of thankfulness. I'm here, having beaten the 50-50 odds that I
wouldn't be.
I'm here, unscathed, having beaten those 10-1 odds against me that I would be.
I am
overwhelmed by the "thinking of you," "you're in my prayers," "miss you,"
"anything I can
do for you" cards, phone calls, e-mails and "get well" gifts from students.
Some have come
over to the house to visit; some have helped Susan with such mundane but
necessary things
as shopping; some have offered to clean the house; some have even cooked
dinners for us.
I am grateful to the support of my department chair, the department secretary,
the
department student helpers, and to my four colleagues in the department who, in
spite of
their own busy schedules, have been unhesitatingly assuming the extra load of
covering my
classes. All the generosity from so many people who kept checking on me and
Susan, all
those friends and family who made prayerful and thankful charitable donations
in our name,
help us out by mowing the lawn or taking out the garbage or piddling around the
house or
bringing over dinners or just being there without hesitation whenever Susan or
I had the
slightest need. I am overwhelmed by something a dear colleague told Susan and
me
yesterday that we have heard before from others, "You have been on a lot of
people's
prayer list. You are loved around here."
I'm thankful for learning what almost not being here has taught me. As
a friend
and fellow cancer survivor just e-mailed me, "We all know a lot of people who
ask with
halting, self-pitting moans and groans, 'why me,' and stop there." That
reminded me of a
real conversation I had with my neurosurgeon's nurse about six weeks ago. It
had been a
few days since I had been released from ICU. We were struggling to regulate
the regimen
of my night meds so I could get some sleep. Out of the blue, she asked me, "Do
you want
an anti-depressant?"
Caught by surprise, I replied, "Why would I need that?"
"Well, you almost died. Most people in your situation get so depressed
and need
something to get them through that."
"But, you just said I was a lucky guy, a very lucky guy. I didn't die.
In this
case, I figure 'almost' doesn't count. I'm not going to think about any 'what
if' or
'could have been' death. I'm focusing on a 'what is' of continued living. I'm
gratefully
looking at being one of those rare '10 per centers' who has come out of this
untouched.
Besides, this hemorrhage has given me a more intense feeling for life, almost a
feeling
that there is a lot more for me to do."
"You sure do have a good attitude that most people don't have."
"I've learned attitude is virtually everything. It's a powerful force
that I can
use to take me in any direction to anywhere I want to go. And, it's my choice
of which
attitude to have. So, I'm picking a good one."
I went on to tell her that we ought to thank heaven for our
disappointments,
difficulties, and misfortunes. It seems it's so often the best chance to shake
us out of
our take-it-for-granted complacent-ness, to transform the ills from barriers
and quagmires
into opportunities, to see misfortune in a different light as good fortune, and
to put
them in a different place for having placed us in a better place. The world
we imagine,
be it an office or a classroom or whatever, is the world we experience and the
life we
imagine, be it professional or personal, is the life we live. It's not a
matter of
drawing upon some secretive magic or supernatural power. It's simply a matter
of us
choosing what to imagine, of how to direct our creative energy that is our
life, and of
living it.
Whether it is in the face of a life-threatening disease or a possible
rejection or
a challenging student, we shouldn't wallow. Instead, we should be thankful it
is us. I
said that and wrote about that when I had prostate cancer and when I didn't
really believe
my life was threatened, and now I say it even more strongly and compassionately
in
response to this hemorrahage when I "knew" at the time I was a stroked-out
goner. While I
can't take back the hemorrahage, I can use it to make room for a greater and
deeper
understanding of my life's purpose and meaning. I'm thankful for that. Let me
tell you
something. It sure is better to be holed up in house under virtual medical
house arrest
for seven weeks than be in a hole under the ground for an eternity, and it sure
is better
for me to receive a house plant and get-well messages when I'm here on leave
from the
classroom than a floral arrangement and condolences after I've left this world.
It may at first seem ridiculous or impossible to feel good when things
are not
going well. Actually, though, feeling good is really quite pleasant. It's that
teaspoon
of sugar that makes the medicine go down. I may sound like Mary Poppins, but
being
positive it's a lot better than being negative and feeling lousy. Yeah, so if
I have to
have any attitude towards this situation as I must, I'm kind of thankful for
this
hemorrahage. Wish it didn't happen and wish it didn't have to put Susan, my
sons, my
family, and my friends through the ringer. But, it did happen and there's
nothing anyone
can do anything about that. But, like anything else personally and
professionally, how I
deal with it and live my attitude is something I can do.
No, I can't go back to the way things were. Now my moment to moment
awareness of
things both great and small is so much more sharpened. In this dark moment, I
can see so
much light. It's here, not around the corner, not in the next moment, not out
there in
the cosmos. It's here. Today. This moment. Now. Life can be made stronger
by the very
things that might destroy it--if you let it. If you take each moment to let
life touch
you, and reach into you, it will delight you. I'm not talking about reaching
for the
stars, for that better position, for that next grant or publication, or for
that longer
resume. Life's real treasures can come in such unassuming chests: the breath
in my
nostrils, the light in my eyes, the sound in my ears, the touch on my skin;
it's in my
Susan, my sons and their wives, my grandchildren, other members of the family,
those who
call me friend, my colleagues, the students. It's the daily bread that is the
sweetest
thing in life.
Make it a good day.
--Louis--
Louis Schmier
http://therandomthoughts.edublogs.org
Department of History http://www.therandomthoughts.com
Valdosta State University
Valdosta, Georgia 31698 /\ /\ /\ /\
(229-333-5947) /^\\/ \/ \ /\/\____/\ \/\
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hills" -/
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