My first batch of fundraising support letters went out today which is a good step. I probably could have held onto my letter and tweaked it probably 100 more times but I decided to go ahead and send it out so at least people can have my blog information. It’s tough asking people for money. I have done it before in the past but my total amount to raise has never been so much, but I also have never gone to 11 countries in 11 months either with all the travel, visa costs, food, lodging and training I’m amazed that it is as cheap as it is. For the rest of the week, however, my mind isn’t going to be on the World Race but instead on my family as I fly back to Seattle where I lived for a few years to see extended family.
My grandpa recently died, quite suddenly so the visit with be bitter sweet. It all started with some swelling and fluid retention in his feet and calves back in January, which isn’t life threatening. He was diagnosed with sleep apnea (which I could have diagnosed just from my grandpa’s very loud snoring) which is also not life threatening. He was prescribed oxygen and was told his lung capacity was a little low, so he and my grandma dutifully toted around an oxygen tank and he practiced breathing into a machine while at home. (I shook my head and wanted to ask the doctor, he’s almost 80, what’s his oxygen supposed to be?) He tried to keep his feet raised for the swelling and took a water pill which didn’t seem to help. He and my grandma bounced from appointment to appointment and it seemed they got referred to another specialist with the one they had just seen scratching their head. Was it his kidneys? No, couldn’t be. Was it his heart? No, his heart was strong. Maybe it was his circulation or blood clots. Nope, he didn’t have a problem there. Maybe it had to do with swollen glands the Nephrologist found, except the oncologist couldn’t find the swollen glands. The oncologist went ahead and did an MRI and found what seemed to be a baseball sized mass in his liver. They weren’t sure if it was cancer or not but fluid from around the liver didn’t contain cancerous cells which was a good sign.
I have worked in different areas of the medical field for the last 5 years and I can’t even tell you how frustrating it was to just sit on my hands. I was ready to put them both on a plane and fly them out to Tennessee so they could see the doctors I work for. I work for high risk OB specialists so bringing in my grandpa would have been comical but it still seemed like anything would have been better than all the waiting. The swelling traveled up into his thighs. My mom went to go be with them and was there a few days before the swelling was then in his stomach and they couldn’t even button his pants, he also seemed confused so they took him to urgent care. After draining the fluid they were able to do a biopsy. The results dashed our hopes. The cancer had actually started in his pancreas, was in his liver and also in his lungs. When delivering the prognosis the doctor gave my grandpa 3-6 months. We were all devastated. We bought a ticket so I could fly out to see him, I would arrive Thursday the 4th. My grandma started the process so their house would be ready for him to go home and have full time care. He didn’t qualify for hospice because 3-6 months is “too” long. He had a few really bad days while in the hospital so my parents and I discussed if I needed to change my ticket and go sooner but the doctor said my grandpa would be with us until his birthday in May but probably not much longer. My grandpa went home Tuesday afternoon and died early Wednesday morning, April 3rd, 1 week after we got the biopsy results back.
After the oceans of tears and almost crippling sadness, some sensibility returns. We are so thankful that other than some discomfort he never suffered. We are so thankful for the time we had with him, for the wonderful person he was. Then I can also remember the little things. We used to play catchphrase at family gatherings and he was absolutely horrible at it, guessing for the wrong team, saying out loud the word we were supposed to be guessing…he had us all in stitches with stomach cramps and tears rolling down our faces from laughing so hard. He and my grandma would go on walks everyday and though his shoe of choice was a penny loafer, he bought some tennis shoes. Gosh, you’d have thought they had springs in them for how much he boinged down the driveway; bo-ing, bo-ing. He would also hand write letters or send a news article or comic that had made him think of you. The letters were always on yellow lined paper; he always mentioned the weather and since they live outside of Seattle there was usually rain and/or fog. Since I’m a duck and they were Husky fans there was usually something in there about which team had won or lost. I’m sad to admit I took those letters for granted. I still went out to visit, even though I had missed his passing and spent some much needed time with my grandma. We window shopped, took silly pictures, and spent time with my Uncle and his family. We talked about my grandpa, what we would miss, and how so many people had mentioned to my grandma just how much those notes on yellow lined paper had meant to them.
At church this last Sunday we were in Mark 2 where the 4 friends take their crippled friend to Jesus and lower him through the roof. Jesus, who is the main character of the story, heals the man, and tells him to take up his mat and go home. Many of us have heard the story before. The pastor, however, asked if maybe the secondary character is not the healed crippled man but the 4 friends. Friends who didn’t let the crowd of people or even the roof stop them from getting their friend to Jesus. The pastor also pointed out that none of the 4 friends are named, probably because the point isn’t on recognizing them individually but instead focusing on their act of friendship. And the challenge was this, are we willing to be that friend?
This weekend I dug through the garbage next to my desk that I hadn’t emptied in awhile, desperately looking and in the end finding a letter written on yellow lined paper. I actually found a few of my grandpa’s letters. One he talked about the swelling in his legs but otherwise it was about unimportant things like Seattle being the fog capital of the world, or the Husky team had lost again so he was contemplating finding a new team to root for (not seriously, take heart, he was a loyal Husky fan.) To anyone else they are insignificant pieces of yellow lined paper with some writing on them but to me they are ties to a wonderful grandpa that I lost too quickly.
Friendship comes in both forms. From digging through a roof to get help for a friend who desperately needs it, to a simple hand written letter that told me I am loved, letters I only missed when I stopped receiving them. Are we able to recognize which one our friend needs and are we willing to give it? Are we willing to go to far lengths, give of ourselves and our time in huge ways and not be recognized for it? Not all of our memorable moments will be big, though those are important too. Sometimes they’re just simple words on yellow lined paper.
