Today is the first day of the rest of…. I suppose the first day of the rest of my life. Flying into Cincinnati, waiting indefinitely for a liver. The sooner I get sicker the sooner I might get a transplant. I haven’t been sleeping well, dream and thoughts of leaving my wife, kids and life behind. What will they do? What will I do without them? They’re stronger than me. I’m weak in compareision. Dreams of being a burden, how have I burdened my family with the illness over the past few months, years, please let the sun shine on us all on the other side of this experience.
As I sit on this plane, all incase in plastic, metal and rivets covered in clouds at 28,200 feet I imagine the plane unraveling and falling, not unlike I have in recent years of my life. Next to me sits a man who seems completely immersed in the corporate culture of America, I can tell he is slightly annoyed with the idea of getting to sit next to me. Sitting there fiddling with my IPod the jack isn’t plugging into the unit as snug as it should and the soothing sounds of FEARs Let’s have a war are barely audibly violating my row partners personal space. After more fiddling, I’m still failing at quieting my IPod, I turned to the man in next to me letting him know I apologize and if I couldn’t get it to work properly I’d shut it down, “I didn’t want to disturb him.” . He replied, “Too late, you already have.” With that I rudely shoved his arm from the shared arm rest and replied… “Well, if it’s any conciliation, the stench of Homogenized America reeking up the row has offended me as since I sat down.”
My plan for the next few months is pretty basic. I want to re discover the person that was me. I miss that person. He got lost in the world of alcohol and drug abuse, the world of self-absorption, with his career and for whatever reason lost sight with what he card about in the world. I liked that naïve little fucker, he wasn’t terribly strong or thought but overwhelming generous and he had a good heard
A couple of things need to happen while I’m on the stretch. First of all I need to try and get and expel this disease that is ravaging my body and consuming my mind. This in turn presents me from focusing on me. Interferon is the preferred method prescribed by my heopatologist. Hemp oil is another potion from the Fertile Crescent preached to by my cousin and last a coffee enema seems to be my business partners preferred method of detoxification and reaching a cure, even though he himself has never participated in the stinky art.
I’ve traveled through this tunnel before and I’ll stick with the advice of the PR actioners
of western medicine and re-walk down the path again. It’s a miserable road and I think I’ll begin the process tonight or tomorrow. I could come up with a thousand of reasons why another time might be better to start… but then, I’d probably never get started. My brother’s wife is a nurse, so at the very least she gets me off to a running start with my first injection.
After a few days at my brother’s house and reconnecting with some family members I’ll be moving into a seminary. Now, full heartedly begins the quest for faith from an atheist. It’s not that I don’t not believe in god, bit rather I don’t believe in him. I’m open to the possibility. I wish I did believe, the concept of faith I find reassuring. I am a man who has been presented with a series of low expectations my entire life so why should I have nay now in regards to God.
I’ll be spending time with young, hopeful seminarians, these young hopeful gentleman have
invited me to their community and have asked me to participate as much as my health will allow me. I also have a few sessions with a professor of theology a some spiritual directors who can probably lead m the direction of finding my own faith. I’d be very happy if I come out the other end of this a little less skeptical. The last leg of my journery is at Mount St Joseph. Originally a college for producing nuns of the sisters of Charity. More recently they’ve expanded their horizons and numbers and now include men in their members of their student body. My Aunt s a member of the order and sat on some board or held some high felutin job for many, many years. She a woman who knew where her home was and found contentment, if not happiness there. Not only did she assist in guiding the order but her work has taken her all over the world. I remember one incident in particular, she was so excited, and on a trip to Vatican City she was possibly granted an audience with Pope John Paul. Well, as luck would have it, while she was touring and waiting in Rome the Pope up and died. Fortunately she was abel to participate in the viewing which I understand was a very moving experience in its own rite.
So they have a little apartment out there at the mount which the nice Ladies will allow me
to set camp up until I’m called to Indianapolis for my new and improved liver. Maybe I’ll make them a pie
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