It was a typical summer day in Redwood City California in late July of 2014. Well, not so much for cardiologist Dr. Alex Chen and his new patient (newly turned) forty year old would-be cartoonist Charlie Irons. They were making their first formal in office doctor patient meeting since having first met when Charlie – me – had suffered near fatal heart failure and had ended up laid out at the hospital for a number of days.
Dr. Chen sat across from me at his little computer terminal seriously perplexed by my answer; “No, not really. Should I be?” Which is fine because just moments before I had been vexed by his question; “You’re taking this really well. Aren’t you even mad?”
It’s odd when a health care provider is more upset then you are about something happening to you. Of course, don’t get me wrong; it’s definitely been a bit of a blow having to deal with a heart problem that usually strikes folk in the twilight of their days. But how I got here from there is probably the best explanation for itself. You see, in a nutshell, how I see this is that it’s better to have this issue going into your forties than to be a seventeen year old corpse that my mom has to bury.
If you’ve been reading Stuff over at Neverland Transit Authority, you might already be aware that, as part of the long term side effects of radiation therapy I received for my lymphoma, certain levels of tissue damage are now catching up to me. Those who know me directly can, and have always seen the immediate damage; my teeth. (That has been a costly repair that has to escalate with each new patch job.) Other scarring, and such, has been the privilege of a select few.
What can’t be seen is the internal damage to my heart, lungs, throat, and other soft tissues in the treated regions. And for the past twenty five years, this damage has been the root cause of my hyper metabolism; my Tasmanian Devil syndrome, as it were. So when Dr. Chen sat down to discuss with me the initial prognosis – which at the time was very, very poor, he was bewildered to find a still young-ish man who, instead of being angry, frustrated, and in shock, was talking to a mildly pleasant, upbeat, and hopefully guy.
And rightly so; this attitude has helped me not only beat the odds, but make a recovery Dr. Chen has described as “surprising”. (As of this entry I can now run again, and can lift and move heavy weight; things I was told were pretty much not going to every happen anymore.)
For me, handling a less-then-ideal life has boiled down to this kind of outlook. It first took hold of my twenty five years ago, in the office my surgeon Dr. Rush, as he discussed with me and my parents the procedure I was about to undergo. I was a young, angry, and morose black clad kid of seventeen, caught up in a heap of life I didn’t want, and couldn’t shake. As the doctor spoke I looked out the window at little children playing out on the grass and it hit me; this was going to be a journey that would deliver me from the dark place I had stumbled into. Not the journey I would have hoped for, but the journey none the less. (Not even going to try to draw a Joseph Campbell styled parallel between me and myth, but funny how that seems the case for a lot of people in a situation.)
Getting on to a big day, soon, and in having a gander pack down the path of this life, it’s funny how the twists, turns, detours, and flat out dead stops I’ve had to make – either because of happenings, or of my own idiocy (More frequent then I care to admit to.) – have put me into a most interesting location. At twenty I had pretty much mapped out how life should go, and where I was supposed to be. At almost forty two I’m looking back at the actuality of my life and finding it a bit more interesting than had I had had my own way.
In my creative life this has been an absolute blessing. My illustration and story telling skills were rubbish then, and would not have found the voice they have today without life’s experience to guide them; to flesh them out and create real substance from which to speak. Had I not stumbled down the road some, I wouldn’t have ended up on stage, doing internet radio, or had even had the chance to appear on local TV.
And I certainly wouldn’t have had gained the experience that would bear in me strength to handle adversity, and the fortitude and patience to express compassion and understanding.
This might be my biggest divergence from the norm, I guess. Life beat me down, and rather than wallow where I lay, I got back up, squared myself, and got ready for another round; learning where to dodge, and when to defend. But in being honest and open to my ordeals and predicaments, whether by life’s doing or self-made, not only could I learn and grow, I was able to recognize my struggle in those around me. There’s universality in each and every single path we walk through in life. They may not be going all the same place, but may run parallel – or even cross other paths – from time to time. And though not every hill is the same size all the time, we all know what it’s like to have to climb, and how nice it would have been to have a helping hand, on occasion. And, in helping others,we sometimes don’t realize how we may be also helping ourselves. So I also help, when I can. After all, I know what it’s like to have to make a lot of big climbs.
Ultimately it all comes down to an axiom I garnered from one of the many lectures of the late Alan Watts; I have already failed; I am already dead. What that means is, in life, you are bound to make mistakes; it’s part of the learning process – a gift, really. And regardless of how well off or badly life finds you, we all end up the same in the end. Getting past this fear of defeat, in any form, is helpful. Realizing that the twists and turns life takes you in those defeats can show and teach you more, and better, than anything you could have mapped out for yourself is a very liberating and empowering thing; whether in life, love, a profession, or creative expression.
And who knows, that unexpected turn might lead to the most scenic and beautiful journey of your entire life.
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