Nearly 30 years ago, aboard the U.S.S. Lexington, Rick was coming up a ladder at the same time a hatch was coming down. Hatch met head and the result has been three decades of increasingly debilitating seizures. After marrying an incredible woman (my sister), and trying every kind of therapy and medication available, he was accepted as a candidate for a temporal lobectomy at the VA hospital in Madison. He begins with a procedure tomorrow that is designed to open the skull and insert a device designed to make intracranial EEG recordings that are then used to determine exactly where the surgery should be performed. He could emerge seizure-free, but there are obvious risks. It's brain surgery.
Rick has a talent for changing the way those around him view the world. Mostly, he messes with you by refusing to engage in predictable conversation. He is always ready with a one-liner or an odd perspective, delivered in his droll near-mumble. He never responds, "I don't know" to a question. Maybe, "Don't make me lie to you," but never a conventional reply.
If someone begins to rub his shoulders, he is likely to give them the sharp rebuke, "You have exactly 30 minutes to stop that."
And if you mistakenly drink from his water glass, expect to hear, "Don't worry about it, these sores mean nothing."
He is partially responsible for turning me from an insufferably self-righteous apologist to a rhetorical beggar that masquerades a little less frequently as a Pharisee. One summer afternoon, about 20 years ago, when I was at the height of my "I-got-me-some-religion-and-it's-better-than-yours" stage, he stood in my parents' kitchen and declared, "It's not what you're saying so much as how you're saying it." He was right, and I started making changes. I use that line with my students now.
I even wrote a song about him, that will be on a new CD (available soon).
I have a brother who lives down south
He's taking it on the chin
The rug was pulled out from under him
He doesn't know where to begin
He doesn't know
What he's gonna do
His hands are as rough as Mexico
And his dreams are falling flat
He lives next to a Texaco
He swears he'll make it back
To where he wants to be
Sometimes he doesn't see
That he's shaken, not broken
Taking the things unspoken
And making them true
And with a heart as big as Texas
He'll make room for you
He wanted to teach like anything
But the seizures get him down
He likes to hear Bob Dylan sing
And he knows where he's bound
If he weren't around
I don't know what I'd do
Well, he's shaken, not broken...
He smokes without a filter
And he loves without reserve
When things are out of kilter
He's got a belly full of nerve
To do the math
Off the beaten path
Well, he's shaken, not broken...
Saturday evening I stood with Rick on the shores of Lake Mendota, having a chat while he smoked one of his trademark unfiltered Camels. It was a good talk, but what struck me about it was the utter lack of desperation or avoidance. There was no anxiety about the conversation. We had always been honest with each other, and we had never witheld affection on account of machismo. There was no call for a relational crescendo. We had reached fortissimo with a fermata...no stopping us until the Conductor directs otherwise. It was a good way to leave him.
I had no end-of-life epiphanies. I don't think you should have to "live like you are dyin'." You don't need to go skydiving, or Rocky Mountain climbing, or try to go 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Manchu. You just need to live with the kind of reckless passion and honesty that, when you face the end, leaves you strangely, yet comfortably, quiet.
Before we left Madison, I took a couple of shots with the digital camera. I wasn't fooling anyone. The pictures were to preserve his image for us, should he not survive the surgery. Rick just grinned and said, "Ahhh, Americans and their gadgets."
Gadgets indeed.
8 comments:
Best wishes to Rick, your sister, and your whole family. These random tragedies always seem to come crashing down on the truly remarkable among us. Or maybe that's not true, maybe it's just that we feel it more when it's someone we love desperately.
Anyway, he sounds like a hell of a guy, the kind who has the intestinal fortitude to stay brave, stay positive, and fight like hell. I'll keep him in mind and prayer.
Nothing more that I can add except more prayers for you and your family.
The word from Madison this afternoon (6/15) is that Rick came through the initial procedure fine. He now has wires coming out of his head, connected to a monitor, that will pinpoint the location of his seizures.
Thanks for the prayers.
Brain surgery hits very close with me and it is funny (not ha-ha but more coincidental) because I was just thinking about writing a story about my father and his happenings. Anyway, that to say my prayers are with Rick and your sister.
That's a great smile he's got there. I also like the "no bullshit" attitude he seems to have. I second tool's statement of him stayin' brave, positive and fighting like hell!
Skip, I would encourage you to write about your dad.
Annie, we are holing up in the studio next week to try and put a caboose on the cd train. Hopefully, we're looking at a late summer release. Speaking of songs, I'm liking what I'm hearing of your music as well. What's the plan for getting more of it heard?
Thanks Reacher, I just finished.
Just in case any of you get the wrong idea from Reacher's post, Rick's a pretty great guy but not a god by any means!! The Incredible Woman (oh how I love being a superhero) got home from WI Friday night. Slept all weekend. Brain surgery makes for a rough week even if it's not your brain. The monitoring process is progressing as desired and the team appears to be getting the info they need in anticipation of the "for real" surgery on 6-29. I'm home all week and will go back to Madison on Saturday for Part 2.
Thanks to all for the thoughts and prayers.
If Rick isn't a god, I guess that means I don't have to bow toward Texas five times a day?
Hey, then you need to return all the livestock and virgins I have given to your family as guilt offerings.
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