Its Christmas time 2008 and this year I’ve gotten the greatest gift I’ve ever received – a second chance, an opportunity to do things differently, and after several years of attempting to blog I’ve got something to write about. So this is going to be my chronicle of breaking patterns that I’ve had all my life and trying to forge a new life out of the ashes of the old. I hope that someone reads this and maybe, just maybe, it makes some difference in their own life
So what the what the hell am I talking about? Just before Thanksgiving this year I was sick. Now I’ve been sick before and really understanding now what was happening I think I’d been sick for quite a while. This time though I felt terrible. Days before I found myself gasping for breath walking from the parking lot to the front door of Moore College of Art where I teach. On the walk back after class though I was fine. So my thought was that I had bronchitis. Several people I knew had it and I thought I’d caught it from one of them.
Now you have to understand something about me – I’d never been to the doctor. Not that I was scared of doctors it was more that I was confused about my insurance and I think half convinced that I was invulnerable. After all I’d gone some thirty years and only needed to go to the doctor four times – once for pink eye, once for bell’s palsy, once for a broken leg, and once for an extremely bad cold. I just didn’t get sick, didn’t have all of the little pains and complaints that seemed to plague most people I knew. In fact I was pretty proud that here I was pushing fifty, looked much younger, and didn’t have to eat this big pile of pills every morning like many of people I knew. When I did get sick a couple of days in bed and some over counter medicine always took care of it. I didn’t call out from work. I didn’t cancel classes. I wasn’t broken so therefore didn’t need fixing.
Looking back at it I took better care of my car than I did myself. When I did my taxes every year I literally never had anything to deduct for health care. Luckily though I’d always paid for health insurance even though I never used it.
So that Thursday I got a call from Bruce Claypool a good friend and photographer I work for telling me that he was sick. I remember telling him that I was also sick and really couldn’t come into the office. Bruce asked what I was going to do about it and when I said “well nothing” he called me an idiot and told me to get to a doctor. It was at that moment that Bruce saved my life. Ask him and he’ll tell you that I’m being overly dramatic but if he hadn’t insisted I would have never gone and I’m quite convinced that I’d now be dead. So whether or not he believes it or will take credit for it Bruce saved my life for which I’ll always be grateful. Thank you Bruce.
Next: I go to the doctor and get some surprising news.