Last week was scary and we both wanted to write about it. This week's blog is a love letter to our friend.
His Take:
This week’s column is one that I didn’t particularly want to write. Not because I don’t have anything interesting to say about the subject, I just never wanted to be ABLE to write about it. A couple weeks ago, I got an email from my very best friend, who I’ve known since kindergarten, saying that he had had a heart attack, and was going to have a cardiac catheter procedure etc., etc.. Yeah, I know, I shouldn’t have ect, anything in that last sentence, but I want to get to the point of this because it’s very important.
I was pretty much speechless when I read the email. I just kind of sat there staring into space. I couldn’t wrap my brain around what he was telling me. I thought that maybe if I read the email again, it would change. Maybe it wouldn’t say heart attack, maybe it would say “the clap” or “Lyme’s disease” or SOME thing else, but not a heart attack, that’s just insane. He’s younger than I am, for crying out loud (by 2 months, but still)!! How could a guy in his mid-40’s have a heart attack? Heart attacks are for musicians who are exactly 27 years old, or people who are 90 years old. Or any of those Chicago Bears’ superfans. I just sat there thinking that it was like 3 weeks ago that us and a friend were having cologne fights in Shopko to cover up the smell of cigarette smoke. Last week I was hanging out at Lee’s Famous Recipe waiting for him so we could go hang out. And it was the day before yesterday that we went to see Batman at Roger’s Cinema.
Anyway, the point was that he was young and he was always one of the skinniest guys I knew. As I sat there, all I could think of is how all this was completely impossible and couldn’t be happening. After I managed to start breathing again, I realized that no matter how much I wanted it to go away, it wasn’t going to. So, I had to grit my teeth, dig my heels in and pray like I’ve never prayed before. I prayed for the cardiac cath to work, for them to find what was wrong, and or them to be super successful in fixing it.
What I haven’t told you is that a little over 4 years ago I myself had a heart attack, and I knew exactly what he was going through. When I had mine, I never really felt like I was in danger of losing my life. For some reason, while I waited to hear from him, I got scared for both of us. You can only imagine how relieved I was when his mom called to tell me that he was out of the procedure, and that with some work, he was going to be just fine. THANK YOU GOD!!
I don’t know what the big take away is from this. There’s more than one, that’s for sure. Never be too busy or proud or stubborn to tell those you love that you do, in fact, love them. Don’t smoke. No, seriously. I know what a pain in the ass the people that harp on you to quit are, but just don’t smoke. Go for a walk once in a while. Not everything has to be deep-fried in beer batter, and finally, live life the way YOU want to. It doesn’t matter if your not doing what everyone else is doing. I find everyone else to be highly overrated, I’m glad my friend is going to live as long as he wants to.
Her Take:
I’ve decided there’s something we’re all missing, something that would make the world infinitely better.. Well, more efficient anyway. Sometime after we turn, let’s say, 25 or so, when our brains are fully formed and we can comprehend how little we actually know, we should be presented with a book. It would be lovingly hard-bound in leather, a real treat to look at even if you’re not a reader, and the title, engraved in gold, would read “Everything You Didn’t Know About Being an Adult” and then.. Probably.. “Volume 12” or “2019 Edition”... whatever works best.
Maybe I’ll start writing that book when I’m done here. Let me workshop some ideas, ok?
One page would definitely have ‘Suppositories, Administering for Others’ along with the simple statement that you may have to do this and, if called to do so, you should make the best of it.
Assuming it’s arranged in alphabetical order, though I’m not married to that idea yet, that same page might feature two more entries:
“Saying ‘Let me know what I/we can do to help’” - which would describe the times that’s an appropriate phrase to use (refer to the entry entitled ‘Suppositories’ for example.)
And
“Saying ‘Let me know what I/we can do to help’, actually meaning it” - which would start with the disclaimer that some of us start SAYING IT before we actually understand what it means to MEAN IT and that’s ok because we’re all just doing our best. But it would go on to say that, if you’re reading this entry, you don’t get to do that anymore so say it when you mean it. When you don’t, consider using a frowny face emoticon or a simple ‘OH NO! That’s AWFUL!’ and slink away because we need helpers, not pretend-to-want-to-helpers.
Maybe that sounds harsh? Nope, check that, I’’m rereading it and yes, I can see that it does. Yet there it sits, still said, because it’s on my mind.
Not that I’m beyond reproach here, friend. I can admit to you, because we’re so close, that there was this whole period in my life where I was absolutely careless on that point. First I didn’t really recognize that I could do anyone any good, so I didn’t offer help. Then I realized I could help, and panicked each time that I might be asked to. NOW… now I’ve finally worked it out. Now I only say it when I mean it so… you know, do with that fact what you will.
Why is this on my mind? Because (and this sounds dramatic, but I think it’s the truth, so bear with me) one of my best friends in the world, a member of my chosen family, just found out that he’s been wandering the earth with a heart like a ticking time-bomb. He’s been going to work, eating his dinner, talking to his cat, watching Rachel Maddow, Tweeting, reading Tweets, Liking Tweets, Re-Tweeting (he spent a lot of time on Twitter), and living life for who-knows-how-long not knowing that he had two COMPLETELY BLOCKED ARTERIES and a heart that could have .. I don’t know, they don’t normally explode… I think they just stop working… BUT IT COULD HAVE DONE THAT at any time. It just didn’t. And we don’t know why.
What we do know is that he went to the doctor, they did medical things to him, a lot of medical things, and he’s home now. Today he Tweeted a GIF of a cat and it made me inexpressibly happy to see it. You have to be a survivor to Tweet things.
Yeah, ok, I’m bringing this all together.
Here’s another entry for the book, maybe you can help me figure out what to call it. It’s that feeling when you realize that you love someone, a friend, a member of your chosen family, so much that the idea of losing them, even if it’s a fleeting idea and you both dodge the bullet for now, is so terrible that your brain shuts down. So, the only thing you can do is tell them (and their family if they’re lucky enough to have one) “Let me know what I can do to help” and you mean it so deeply that you can’t even quite find the words for it.
Ok, that might not have name. How about we start here:
“Family, Chosen - Don’t make the mistake of thinking that all of your friends fit this category. Start with the people that love you exactly the way you are, the friends who you have laughed until your stomach hurts and also cried with, possibly in the same night. Then, give it some time. If those people are still in your life, even when you don’t give them the time they deserve, even when you both say ‘we’ve got to see each other more’ too much and never make it happen, that’s a good sign. Finally, imagine your life without them. If you can’t, they’re family now.”
This one goes out to my chosen baby-brother. I love you Danny.
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