Man Up

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While I still wish most days that the cancer would come back and finish the job, it is more that there is little reason for my feeble existence and that I am so obviously out of place on this decaying rock, than the fact I am unhappy with life.

Finishing up a sales call the other day the contractor noticed my cane (I do my best to hide it from my boss and clients), and asked me why I had it. It seems he is going through some health issues dealing with not one, but two, helicopter crashes he was involved in while serving our country.

I thanked him for his sacrifice, and told him about my PLS, my false ALS scare, and the cancer that I should have let end me. His condition was a mass that had grown, is growing, around his spine, and that there is a chance the operation may leave him paralyzed, and that if so he’d put a bullet in his head.

“So you have no family?, I see a wedding ring”

“Yeah, wife and 2 kids, and 2 more from my first marriage” he replied

“So that their father and husband was a pussy - that’s the legacy you want to leave them?”

At this point I kinda thought this marine was gonna deck me.

But he just replied “no” and spoke of all the things he wouldn’t be able to do, with me replying “me neither” to many of his complaints.

“How much more would your family and friends respect a man who fights through all those things”

I then said two things (maybe should have said more)

You need to go volunteer at the V.A, and work with guys like you , but who don’t even have a home.

And, would you mind if I prayed for you?

Both seemed to humble him a bit, as they did me, and I do pray he finds strength to be an amazing example for those around him, and if anyone reads this, would you please pray for him too.

Yes, I also realize that this was a bit of the Holy Spirit speaking as much through me, as to me.

Amen.
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Prayers please

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I have been, until now, rather silent about the not so great events surrounding my life at present, but thought it best to ask the blogosphere to please take a moment to say a prayer for my family.

My father is in the late stages of ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease), as well as suffering from Alzheimer's. My poor stepmom, who has been trying to do a lot of the care giving (we have just started home hospice), is now herself suffering from pneumonia (they will hopefully celebrate their 2nd wedding anniversary in April). My sister who normally lives with them, has Downs Syndrome, and is temporarily living with my other sister (who has enough on her plate, as she has two teenagers), until we can set up a permanent room in my humble lil' house.

Please , please mention us in your prayers, that the Peace that surpasses all understanding would flood our lives, lending us the grace and wisdom to help and support each other through a stressful and sad time.

Thanks and God bless,
mike

Johnny Cash Walking Stick Blues

I am embarrassed to say that it took me several months before I started using my cane in public, and even longer before I started telling folks the reason. I had even switched from daily mass to only Sunday mass, and even missed a few of those when I had a bad fall or two the week prior.

Now that I am out of the closet about my illness I have been so richly blessed with the chance to have others tell me about their experiences, as well as the illnesses that they too hide from most of the public. Also I get allow folks to feel a sense of service and charity for easy things like letting me pass in a line, or picking up my keys or walking stick (or whatever else I drop . . . and I drop everything). Every time I fall to the ground I can lift up my sufferings for another, and every time I suffer one of the many embarrassments associated with ALS is another chance to suffer in exchange for grace to be given to another.

Yep, I'll never be a husband or Priest, never be a dad or a Father, nor will I have to worry about retirement or social security. I can instead be thankful for the knowledge that so many folks ignore, that a successful career doesn't matter to God unless those successes are given up to Him, that a big house is vile in a world while others are homeless, and that serving others even in our own sufferings is the only true joy.
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ER visits, Faux Heart Attacks, and the Return of the Musical Monk

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I was talking with a customer the other day, and started to feel both a bit flushed and dizzy. I also noticed a lil' tightness I had been feeling in my upper chest had started to intensify as it centered over my heart. It started to feel as if a large weight was pushing on my chest.

As usual for my type of stupidity, I continued to work through the day, and instead of hospital, I ended up at home with the hope the pressure would subside after laying down a bit. . . it didn't, so I went down to Frederick Memorial and was soon hooked up to all kinds of fun machines (by one of the nicest and most professional staffs I have ever encountered).

Thankfully, all of the tests came back negative, and it seems the heart attack will have to wait until I get the bill (O:

Why am I babbling about this if it was nothing but a lil' damaged muscle?

See, pretty much since leaving NoBe I have had a fairly constant ending to my bedtime prayer
"Please Lord, let me not wake in the morning"

Being now 50, with ALS and no real future other than a wheel chair and assisted living, I have fallen into a very private hell of self pitty, and worse. I know that our Lord loves me, but the knowledge that I will die without a human loving me is a very hard thing to live with . . . granted, I have the full knowledge there is little about me to like, let alone love.

My illness and the death sentence that comes with it, is kinda like knowing there is some maniacal killer out there coming for you, and you have no way to stop him, and no knowledge of when he'll arrive . . . so the stress of waiting starts you trying to find him and get it over with. Mind you, not suicidal, but just oh so ready to leave this place where I never really belonged anyway.

wah, wah, wah, poor lil' me

Like you imaginary reader, God had thankfully had enough, and decided to give me a taste of what I thought I wanted, as me thinks it was his hand pushing on my heart.

He wasn't trying to stop it, but trying to remind me that it was there and that it was His.

I was not put here to be a Father or a Husband

I was not put here to be successful or rich

I was not even put here to be loved

I WAS put here TO love, to show His love, to share His love!
and until I got sick and so full of pride (which self pity really is) I was actually pretty good at that (by His grace).

While I take comfort that many old testament prophets also asked God to take their life, I take greater comfort that He always said "No!" and had them go on to do great things for Him, and for love of Him.

Dear God please forgive me for ever forgetting the so great gift of my life, and my life with the knowledge of You - for that is a gift so many will go to their graves without (but I pray that You use me to decrease that number a bit).

I am not here to be loved, I am here to love, and I better get back to work!
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