One of my favorite people is Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin. I met him for the first time in November 1989 when he was sent by the First Presidency to Rancho Los Amigos Hospital in Downey, California to release me as president of the Irvine, California stake. He and his wife visited with Jo Anne and I while standing around my hospital bed. It was like having your grandfather and grandmother come to visit. He was the essence of kindness and compassion. He told us that he always hated to release stake presidents, but it was especially difficult to release me prematurely, and under such difficult circumstances. Before leaving that night, he gave Jo Anne and I each an apostolic blessing. There was no doubt in our minds that we had been blessed by a modern-day Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ.
For a number of years after that, from time to time early in the morning, the phone would ring and the voice on the other end would say, "This is Elder Wirthlin." Jo Anne would always say, "Really?" He simply wanted to know how we were doing and if there was anything he could do for us. That tells you an awful lot about Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, doesn't it?
He told us if we were ever in Salt Lake City to come visit him in his office in the Church Office Building. One summer as we were at BYU for Education Week, we drove up to Salt Lake City to meet with Elder Wirthlin. His secretary was waiting for us and graciously ushered us into his office. There he sat, hunched over his desk in obvious pain -- he had a bad back -- just working his heart out. His desk was covered with piles of papers and maps. He was chairman of the committee regarding boundary changes in the Church. Every proposed new ward, stake, mission, etc. had to be studied and approved by his committee. It would have been a monumental and daunting assignment for a young man, but Elder Wirthlin was in his 80s and not in the best of health. It was an unspoken object lesson to us of endurance and never giving up.
Seeing how busy he was, I said something like, "Elder Wirthlin, you are so busy, and it has been such a treat for us to just see the inside of the church office building, I think it would be best for us to leave you to your work." He got up from his desk and said "If I don't have time to visit with you, I don't have time for anything."
For the next hour he gave Jo Anne, our 16 year old youngest daughter Jackie, and I his undivided attention. He was delightful. He was so positive, cheerful and upbeat, he made us all feel good inside. For not one second did we feel we were imposing upon him and were any kind of burden.
I knew he had been a star running back at the University of Utah in his youth. I got up enough courage to say, "Elder Wirthlin, what is your favorite college football team?" He got a big smile on his face and said, "Well, with me the Church always comes first, BUT..." Then this great Apostle of the Lord, but also a loving grandfather, proceeded to tell us how his grandson, a great high school linebacker, heavyweight wrestling champion for the state of Utah, and a returned missionary from Australia was not given the time of day by BYU's coaching staff, but was recruited by guess who -- the University of Utah. It was wonderful and refreshing to see this human side of a great spiritual giant.
As we left his office, just above a light switch adjacent to the door, in the most obvious place possible, was a Norman Rockwell type painting of two old-time college football players with the old leather helmets. One wore a BYU uniform and the other the uniform of the University of Utah. The University of Utah football player had just destroyed the BYU player with a bone crunching tackle. Elder Wirthlin said many of the brethren had begged him to remove the painting, or at least hang it in a more inconspicuous place, but he said he never would.
These memories about Elder Wirthlin were stirred up in my mind because of his classic General Conference address in October of this year. The title of his talk was taken from some advice given to him by his mother as he was discouraged and depressed after having lost an important football game. His mother said, "Joseph, COME WHAT MAY AND LOVE IT!" The thesis of his talk was: "The way we react to adversity can be a major factor in how happy and successful we can be in life."
"Come what may and loving it" is the only way to live life. I had to learn that lesson many years ago and am constantly taking refresher courses on the subject. I have learned to appreciate the many ironies in my life that make me laugh frequently. I don't remember signing up in the pre-Earth life to be paralyzed and on life support, but here I am, and that's what I got. There is hardly a day that goes by that I don't find something to laugh about regarding this situation, including seemingly constant life-threatening experiences. It is so easy to be troubled and afraid, self-absorbed, taking ourselves too seriously, filled with self-pity, and just being plain miserable. We don't have to be that way. I haven't said this for many years but it is so true -- Barbara Johnson wrote a beautiful book entitled, "Pain Is Inevitable, Misery Is Optional!" How true that is!
The Lord says it a bit differently, but it is the same essential and eternal truth. There are 12 scriptures in which he tells us to "be of good cheer." And we are admonished to "... submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord." [Mosiah 24:15]
I have discovered that it simply is not enough to endure. We must rise to another level -- the level the Lord expects of us -- to submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
PS. The reports regarding my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Last week I did have a ventilator malfunction but Jo Anne, several policemen, paramedics, and well-trained personnel at our local ER intensive care unit pulled me through. I was unconscious and in a comatose state for quite some time and have no recollection of what happened. I did know that BYU was playing UNLV on Saturday and with short-term memory loss continually pestered the nurses with, "Will I be released in time to see the game?" So you can see my priorities are in proper order. There was some concern I would be brain damaged; I will leave it up to you to decide whether that is the case or not. At least one member of my family (whom I won't mention by name) would give a "yes" vote.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Remembering
Every once in a while, like many of you, I have an unsolicited, unexpected, and spontaneous wonderful experience. It is usually something very simple, but at the same time very profound. I had such an experience the Sunday of General Conference.
Still trying to get over a nagging pressure sore I was lying in bed watching and listening to both sessions of Conference on my laptop computer. I had a scheduled patriarchal blessing to give a half-hour after the afternoon session. As soon as the session was over Jo Anne and my son in law Nathan, got me into my wheelchair and I rolled into my office to prepare to give a blessing to a wonderful 16-year-old young lady. Giving her a Patriarchal blessing was a sweet experience- the capstone, I thought, to a perfectly beautiful Sabbath day.
Our two youngest daughters, Rachel and Jackie, and their husbands Matt, and Nathan and our three youngest granddaughters, ages 4, 2, and 14 months had been with us during the day watching conference. They all went out for a walk while I gave the blessing. You never know what the noise level might be with unpredictable and emotional preschoolers.
We eventually all sat down around the dining room table to enjoy a beautiful Sunday dinner together. Not to give a false impression of an idyllic setting, I must report that after the family prayer the 14-month-old, in trying to climb up a stool fell off, bumped her head, and her mother, Jackie spent much of the dinnertime getting her calmed down. You know how that goes.
And then the unexpected experience came to me. As I was looking at my two youngest daughters and their husbands, married in the temple and with these three beautiful little granddaughters, I had a flashback of memories. It is said that when people are about to die in a traumatic way that their entire life flashes through their minds. I have had a number of near-death experiences and this has never happened to me -- just sheer panic. However, at the dinner table that Sunday afternoon I did enjoy a vivid, warp speed recall of my life with Rachel and Jackie over the years. The memories were sweet.
When I had my accident over 19 years ago now, Rachel was nine and Jackie turned four just days after losing my the battle with the ocean. At the time I thought "Why would the Lord send these two little girls to us to take care of and raise, knowing with his infinite foreknowledge what was going to happen to me?" It took but a short while to realize that, in fact, these were two angels the Lord knew that Jo Anne and I needed to get through the coming challenging years. Without going into great detail, these little girls were my arms and legs and assisted Jo Anne with my care day in and day out for years. They still pitch in and help, along with their husbands now, whenever they are around.
The only dad Jackie can remember is one in a wheelchair. We have a unique relationship because of it. She once said to her mom, "Wouldn't life be boring if dad were normal like everybody else?" Come to think of it though, maybe some of your kids have said the same thing about you. How many drinks of water, nose wipes, suctionings, channel changes, fixing computer problems, helping their mother get me dressed and into the wheelchair, etc. have they done for me over the years? The memories were vivid but the overwhelming feeling was one of gratitude to have lived long enough to see these little girls married and with sweet little babies of their own. It was sort of a payday experience for me, and I felt that if the Lord saw fit to call me home at that moment, I was at peace with myself and that life had not been so bad.
Memories are wonderful things. President Monson often quotes the poet John Barrie who wrote that "God gave us memories that we might have June roses in the December of our lives." Hopefully we will live in such a way that our memories as we grow older will be "June roses" and not regrettable noxious weeds.
For the last several years I have had a project of trying to read out of each of the standard works every day. I am afraid I am a bit like Marjorie Hinckley, who had a similar goal and reported in a talk she gave that after having set the goal she was already three weeks behind. But she also went on to say she wasn't discouraged and would keep plugging away at it having received great benefits from the days she accomplished her goal. It reminded me of the words of Robert Browning who said, "If a man's reach does not exceed his grasp than what is a heaven for?"
As I read the Scriptures in this manner I am reminded of the important truths that I constantly need to remember every day of my life. To me, all of the Scriptures are simply a book of remembrance of the most important truths ever revealed to mankind.
The word "remember," or a derivative of it, is used 240 times in the Book of Mormon alone. My life is extremely blessed as I remember through searching the Scriptures each day that which is worth remembering the most. And of course the most important thing to remember was taught by Helaman to his son's Nephi and Lehi: "And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall." [Helaman 5:12]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Still trying to get over a nagging pressure sore I was lying in bed watching and listening to both sessions of Conference on my laptop computer. I had a scheduled patriarchal blessing to give a half-hour after the afternoon session. As soon as the session was over Jo Anne and my son in law Nathan, got me into my wheelchair and I rolled into my office to prepare to give a blessing to a wonderful 16-year-old young lady. Giving her a Patriarchal blessing was a sweet experience- the capstone, I thought, to a perfectly beautiful Sabbath day.
Our two youngest daughters, Rachel and Jackie, and their husbands Matt, and Nathan and our three youngest granddaughters, ages 4, 2, and 14 months had been with us during the day watching conference. They all went out for a walk while I gave the blessing. You never know what the noise level might be with unpredictable and emotional preschoolers.
We eventually all sat down around the dining room table to enjoy a beautiful Sunday dinner together. Not to give a false impression of an idyllic setting, I must report that after the family prayer the 14-month-old, in trying to climb up a stool fell off, bumped her head, and her mother, Jackie spent much of the dinnertime getting her calmed down. You know how that goes.
And then the unexpected experience came to me. As I was looking at my two youngest daughters and their husbands, married in the temple and with these three beautiful little granddaughters, I had a flashback of memories. It is said that when people are about to die in a traumatic way that their entire life flashes through their minds. I have had a number of near-death experiences and this has never happened to me -- just sheer panic. However, at the dinner table that Sunday afternoon I did enjoy a vivid, warp speed recall of my life with Rachel and Jackie over the years. The memories were sweet.
When I had my accident over 19 years ago now, Rachel was nine and Jackie turned four just days after losing my the battle with the ocean. At the time I thought "Why would the Lord send these two little girls to us to take care of and raise, knowing with his infinite foreknowledge what was going to happen to me?" It took but a short while to realize that, in fact, these were two angels the Lord knew that Jo Anne and I needed to get through the coming challenging years. Without going into great detail, these little girls were my arms and legs and assisted Jo Anne with my care day in and day out for years. They still pitch in and help, along with their husbands now, whenever they are around.
The only dad Jackie can remember is one in a wheelchair. We have a unique relationship because of it. She once said to her mom, "Wouldn't life be boring if dad were normal like everybody else?" Come to think of it though, maybe some of your kids have said the same thing about you. How many drinks of water, nose wipes, suctionings, channel changes, fixing computer problems, helping their mother get me dressed and into the wheelchair, etc. have they done for me over the years? The memories were vivid but the overwhelming feeling was one of gratitude to have lived long enough to see these little girls married and with sweet little babies of their own. It was sort of a payday experience for me, and I felt that if the Lord saw fit to call me home at that moment, I was at peace with myself and that life had not been so bad.
Memories are wonderful things. President Monson often quotes the poet John Barrie who wrote that "God gave us memories that we might have June roses in the December of our lives." Hopefully we will live in such a way that our memories as we grow older will be "June roses" and not regrettable noxious weeds.
For the last several years I have had a project of trying to read out of each of the standard works every day. I am afraid I am a bit like Marjorie Hinckley, who had a similar goal and reported in a talk she gave that after having set the goal she was already three weeks behind. But she also went on to say she wasn't discouraged and would keep plugging away at it having received great benefits from the days she accomplished her goal. It reminded me of the words of Robert Browning who said, "If a man's reach does not exceed his grasp than what is a heaven for?"
As I read the Scriptures in this manner I am reminded of the important truths that I constantly need to remember every day of my life. To me, all of the Scriptures are simply a book of remembrance of the most important truths ever revealed to mankind.
The word "remember," or a derivative of it, is used 240 times in the Book of Mormon alone. My life is extremely blessed as I remember through searching the Scriptures each day that which is worth remembering the most. And of course the most important thing to remember was taught by Helaman to his son's Nephi and Lehi: "And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall." [Helaman 5:12]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friends
I have just finished reading 325 pages of birthday greetings from my family and friends thanks to the efforts of Sharli Cartwright. I am overwhelmed with your expressions of love and the many kind things you have said. My obituary and eulogy have been eloquently expressed in your e-mails and I am now ready to be planted.
Truthfully though, I have shed many tears as memories of past relationships and experiences have been rekindled in my mind and heart. I also have a yearning to see you all, but in many cases I am afraid that will have to wait until we are reunited in the happy hunting ground.
Several weeks ago I was lying in bed waiting for Jo Anne to come down and choose the "outfit" for the day. BYU TV was on and I was privileged to hear a talk delivered by Marvin J. Ashton at a BYU devotional in 1982. (The full text can be found in the September 1982 Ensign) The title of his talk was "It's No Fun Being Poor!" I was immediately reeled in by his opening statement and thought to myself that I could write a book about the truthfulness of that statement.
I thought his talk would be about money and material goods but he immediately dispelled that idea by asking the question, "What is meant by the terms poor and rich? Do they have to do only with material goods?" He then proceeded to give his 10 Commandments that, if followed, would make us rich indeed and help us avoid having to experience the misery of being poor. Interestingly enough, only one of his commandments had anything to do with the acquisition, management and wise use of material goods.
His first commandment was: Thou shalt not lose a friend or cease being one. He then went on to tell us why: "A person is poor when he has fewer and fewer friends. A person is poor when he is friendless...When we lose friends, our strength, as well as our desire, to do good is often totally drained from us...It was the American poet Ralph Waldo Emerson who said, “The only way to have a friend is to be one.” A person is poor when he is friendless, but even poorer when he ceases being a friend. No matter what others may do, we cannot afford to give up our sincere efforts to be a friend."
I consider myself to be a wealthy man beyond belief because of my friends. My only regret is that as I look back on my life I think that undoubtedly I could have been a much better friend in so many instances. Some of you have compared me to Job in the Old Testament. We are not even in the same ball game. When Joseph was pouring his heart out to the Lord in Liberty Jail regarding his trials and tribulations and that of the Saints, the Lord comforted him by saying: "My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high..." [D&C 121: 7-8] Now that is a wonderful message to anyone who is suffering any kind of affliction. However, over the years I had failed to read carefully the following: "Thy friends do stand by thee, and they shall hail thee again with warm hearts and friendly hands. Thou art not yet as Job; thy friends do not contend against thee..." [121:9]
No, I am in no way like Job for many reasons but especially because my friends have been at my side supporting me and blessing me and helping me have the courage to go forward, knowing that this adversity, in the eternal scheme of things, is "... but a small moment."
I just don't think any of us can make it through this mortal probation without good friends. I also believe all of us can probably be better friends. We can be a little more sensitive to others, a little kinder, treat others with more lovingkindness, and be less self-centered.
I have often been touched as I read and reread Moroni's poignant words as he is about to finish his work after the last great battles:
"... I am alone. My father hath been slain in battle, and all my kinsfolk, and I have not friends nor whither to go; and how long the Lord will suffer that I may live I know not." [Mormon 8:5]
Oh how we need friends! And I suppose the ultimate friend we need is our Heavenly Father. Our challenge is to follow the example of our great progenitor Abraham.
"And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, Abraham believed God...and he was called the Friend of God." [James 2: 23]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Truthfully though, I have shed many tears as memories of past relationships and experiences have been rekindled in my mind and heart. I also have a yearning to see you all, but in many cases I am afraid that will have to wait until we are reunited in the happy hunting ground.
Several weeks ago I was lying in bed waiting for Jo Anne to come down and choose the "outfit" for the day. BYU TV was on and I was privileged to hear a talk delivered by Marvin J. Ashton at a BYU devotional in 1982. (The full text can be found in the September 1982 Ensign) The title of his talk was "It's No Fun Being Poor!" I was immediately reeled in by his opening statement and thought to myself that I could write a book about the truthfulness of that statement.
I thought his talk would be about money and material goods but he immediately dispelled that idea by asking the question, "What is meant by the terms poor and rich? Do they have to do only with material goods?" He then proceeded to give his 10 Commandments that, if followed, would make us rich indeed and help us avoid having to experience the misery of being poor. Interestingly enough, only one of his commandments had anything to do with the acquisition, management and wise use of material goods.
His first commandment was: Thou shalt not lose a friend or cease being one. He then went on to tell us why: "A person is poor when he has fewer and fewer friends. A person is poor when he is friendless...When we lose friends, our strength, as well as our desire, to do good is often totally drained from us...It was the American poet Ralph Waldo Emerson who said, “The only way to have a friend is to be one.” A person is poor when he is friendless, but even poorer when he ceases being a friend. No matter what others may do, we cannot afford to give up our sincere efforts to be a friend."
I consider myself to be a wealthy man beyond belief because of my friends. My only regret is that as I look back on my life I think that undoubtedly I could have been a much better friend in so many instances. Some of you have compared me to Job in the Old Testament. We are not even in the same ball game. When Joseph was pouring his heart out to the Lord in Liberty Jail regarding his trials and tribulations and that of the Saints, the Lord comforted him by saying: "My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high..." [D&C 121: 7-8] Now that is a wonderful message to anyone who is suffering any kind of affliction. However, over the years I had failed to read carefully the following: "Thy friends do stand by thee, and they shall hail thee again with warm hearts and friendly hands. Thou art not yet as Job; thy friends do not contend against thee..." [121:9]
No, I am in no way like Job for many reasons but especially because my friends have been at my side supporting me and blessing me and helping me have the courage to go forward, knowing that this adversity, in the eternal scheme of things, is "... but a small moment."
I just don't think any of us can make it through this mortal probation without good friends. I also believe all of us can probably be better friends. We can be a little more sensitive to others, a little kinder, treat others with more lovingkindness, and be less self-centered.
I have often been touched as I read and reread Moroni's poignant words as he is about to finish his work after the last great battles:
"... I am alone. My father hath been slain in battle, and all my kinsfolk, and I have not friends nor whither to go; and how long the Lord will suffer that I may live I know not." [Mormon 8:5]
Oh how we need friends! And I suppose the ultimate friend we need is our Heavenly Father. Our challenge is to follow the example of our great progenitor Abraham.
"And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, Abraham believed God...and he was called the Friend of God." [James 2: 23]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Try and Do
August 1, 2008 marked the 19th year of my accident at Laguna Beach. At this time of the year I always seem to reflect on the accident and things I have learned because of it.
In the spring of 1990, approximately 9 months after my accident, Richard Holzapfel, who was the CES coordinator for the Irvine, California Stake asked me to be the keynote speaker at the Seminary Graduation. I immediately turned him down telling him that there was no way I could prepare a talk and deliver it in my condition. I also was very sensitive about how I would be perceived by these young people as I sat before them in my big power wheelchair and on life support. He said that was fine but that he was going to have my name printed on the program as the keynote speaker and whether I showed up or not was up to me.
Well, for the two weeks preceding the graduation I struggled mightily to prepare a little talk. I felt that my brain had atrophied during the many months I had spent in the rehabilitation Hospital. Jo Anne spent hours working with me each day and I am sure there were times she must have thought it was a lost cause. With no computer or voice recognition software at the time, it just seemed impossible to think creatively and prepare my remarks. Finally however, I had a little talk prepared and was absolutely amazed that the young people actually seemed to listen and enjoy what I had to say. It was such a good experience it inspired me to accept many other speaking and teaching opportunities over the years which has contributed to keeping my brain functioning at a fairly high level, despite rumors to the contrary.
President Thomas S. Monson is fond of quoting lines from movies, musicals, poetry, and great literature. He seems to have a photographic memory and doesn't forget anything. In two consecutive general conferences he quoted a line from the Civil War movie, "Shenandoah." He quoted the words spoken by James Stewart, the star of the movie, as follows: "If we don't try, we don't do, and if we don't do why are we here?" Based on my own experience I know how true that philosophy is. Without trying and doing why are we here?
I have great admiration and respect for people who try and do. One of President Kimball's often repeated sayings was, "Do It!" For years I had sitting on my desk a three-dimensional object made out of foam but looking like marble with those two words "Do It" engraved upon on it. It was a very important daily reminder to constantly try and do.
Several years ago one of my observations was given to a young mother in Texas by the name of Jennifer Lynn. I think her visiting teacher or home teacher received the observation from somebody -- you know how these e-mails get around.
As a 30-year-old, happily married mother of four beautiful children, unexpectedly and with no warning, she had a stroke that left her paralyzed from the eyes on down. The prognosis the doctors presented to her and the family was that there was no hope of recovery of any kind. Since then she has developed the ability to use her right arm and one finger a little bit, enough to write on the computer to a certain extent and drive a power wheelchair.
We have been corresponding from time to time and I am always humbled when I receive one of her messages that obviously has been so painstakingly written in her own unique way.
Jennifer could have given in to her situation and quit trying and doing. The opposite however has been the case. In the September 2008 Ensign she had published an article she has written entitled, "Primary Songs Helped Me!" It is a beautifully written and inspiring story from a wonderful young woman who refuses to give up. If you haven't read the article you surely should. I believe it is on page 55 of the magazine. If you read it and feel so inclined, you may want to write Jennifer an e-mail and give her some feedback. I know it would make her day. Her address is jenannlynn@aol.com.
I think of all the great things that have been accomplished because men and women were willing to try and do, in many cases, the seemingly impossible. The list is endless, of course, and each one of us, with a little pondering, could create our own list of heroes that have been an inspiration to us. We will find some of them in our own families and among our friends. Their examples are priceless.
We read in the Scriptures that nothing is impossible with God. However, we are commanded time after time to knock, ask, seek -- in other words to try -- and only then will He open the door to us and make the impossible possible.
It takes faith to try. This last dispensation came into being because a little boy had faith to try the counsel of James regarding prayer and then to do the will of the Father as it was revealed to him.
No great work was ever accomplished without trying and doing. As James so beautifully taught: "But be ye adoers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves. For if any be a ahearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a bglass: 24 For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner he of man he was. 25 But whoso looketh into the perfect alaw of bliberty, and continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed." [James 1: 22-25]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
In the spring of 1990, approximately 9 months after my accident, Richard Holzapfel, who was the CES coordinator for the Irvine, California Stake asked me to be the keynote speaker at the Seminary Graduation. I immediately turned him down telling him that there was no way I could prepare a talk and deliver it in my condition. I also was very sensitive about how I would be perceived by these young people as I sat before them in my big power wheelchair and on life support. He said that was fine but that he was going to have my name printed on the program as the keynote speaker and whether I showed up or not was up to me.
Well, for the two weeks preceding the graduation I struggled mightily to prepare a little talk. I felt that my brain had atrophied during the many months I had spent in the rehabilitation Hospital. Jo Anne spent hours working with me each day and I am sure there were times she must have thought it was a lost cause. With no computer or voice recognition software at the time, it just seemed impossible to think creatively and prepare my remarks. Finally however, I had a little talk prepared and was absolutely amazed that the young people actually seemed to listen and enjoy what I had to say. It was such a good experience it inspired me to accept many other speaking and teaching opportunities over the years which has contributed to keeping my brain functioning at a fairly high level, despite rumors to the contrary.
President Thomas S. Monson is fond of quoting lines from movies, musicals, poetry, and great literature. He seems to have a photographic memory and doesn't forget anything. In two consecutive general conferences he quoted a line from the Civil War movie, "Shenandoah." He quoted the words spoken by James Stewart, the star of the movie, as follows: "If we don't try, we don't do, and if we don't do why are we here?" Based on my own experience I know how true that philosophy is. Without trying and doing why are we here?
I have great admiration and respect for people who try and do. One of President Kimball's often repeated sayings was, "Do It!" For years I had sitting on my desk a three-dimensional object made out of foam but looking like marble with those two words "Do It" engraved upon on it. It was a very important daily reminder to constantly try and do.
Several years ago one of my observations was given to a young mother in Texas by the name of Jennifer Lynn. I think her visiting teacher or home teacher received the observation from somebody -- you know how these e-mails get around.
As a 30-year-old, happily married mother of four beautiful children, unexpectedly and with no warning, she had a stroke that left her paralyzed from the eyes on down. The prognosis the doctors presented to her and the family was that there was no hope of recovery of any kind. Since then she has developed the ability to use her right arm and one finger a little bit, enough to write on the computer to a certain extent and drive a power wheelchair.
We have been corresponding from time to time and I am always humbled when I receive one of her messages that obviously has been so painstakingly written in her own unique way.
Jennifer could have given in to her situation and quit trying and doing. The opposite however has been the case. In the September 2008 Ensign she had published an article she has written entitled, "Primary Songs Helped Me!" It is a beautifully written and inspiring story from a wonderful young woman who refuses to give up. If you haven't read the article you surely should. I believe it is on page 55 of the magazine. If you read it and feel so inclined, you may want to write Jennifer an e-mail and give her some feedback. I know it would make her day. Her address is jenannlynn@aol.com.
I think of all the great things that have been accomplished because men and women were willing to try and do, in many cases, the seemingly impossible. The list is endless, of course, and each one of us, with a little pondering, could create our own list of heroes that have been an inspiration to us. We will find some of them in our own families and among our friends. Their examples are priceless.
We read in the Scriptures that nothing is impossible with God. However, we are commanded time after time to knock, ask, seek -- in other words to try -- and only then will He open the door to us and make the impossible possible.
It takes faith to try. This last dispensation came into being because a little boy had faith to try the counsel of James regarding prayer and then to do the will of the Father as it was revealed to him.
No great work was ever accomplished without trying and doing. As James so beautifully taught: "But be ye adoers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves. For if any be a ahearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a bglass: 24 For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner he of man he was. 25 But whoso looketh into the perfect alaw of bliberty, and continueth therein, he being not a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work, this man shall be blessed in his deed." [James 1: 22-25]
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Life is for Giving
One of my favorite musicals is "Les Miserables." I have read Victor Hugo's book, and seen several movie versions, as well as Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical production. In fact Jo Anne and I went to see the play in Los Angeles as part of the celebration of our 25th wedding anniversary. Just a week after seeing the play I had my accident at Laguna Beach. The music always tugs at my heart because of the tender memories it rekindles.
A few weeks ago I had an unexpectedly sweet experience with Les Miserables. I am addicted to Turner Classic Movies and especially enjoy movies from the late 30s through the 50s. I noticed that a 1936 version of Les Miserables starring Frederic March as Jean Valjean and Charles Laughton as Javert was beginning soon. I was tempted not to watch it having seen so many Les Miserables productions through the years, but having nothing better to do -- no Dodgers games were on TV -- I decided to give it a try.
I immediately realized it was astonishingly well done. It was very true to Victor Hugo's book and I was caught and reeled into a couple of hours of absolutely mesmerizing entertainment.
There was one scene that had a greater impact on me in this 1936 production than any other of the many I have seen. It was when Jean Valjean had stolen the priest's silver dishes and silverware, had been captured by the police, and brought back to the priest's lodgings. Jean Valjean's life was changed forever when the priest assured the police that he had given the silver to him as a present. The police looked on in amazement as the priest walked over to the two beautiful silver candlesticks above the mantle and told Jean Valjean that he must have forgotten them. He proceeded to place them in the bag along with the other silver items. The priest then said to Jean Valjean in a soft but penetrating voice as he intensely looked into his eyes, "Whenever you look at these candlesticks remember that life is for giving and not taking!" The confused but humbled Jean Valjean stumbled out into the night a changed man. The priest's words that "... life is for giving and not taking" became the standard by which Jean Valjean governed his life from that moment on.
I have done a lot of thinking about that line for some time now. During my lifetime I have been the recipient of countless acts of kindness by many whose lives have been all about giving and not taking. The addition to our home was built by men and women who only wanted to give and give. A good friend of ours, a professional wallpaper hanger and very good friend, just spent the last three days in our home stripping off old wallpaper and hanging some new. Years ago he volunteered to wallpaper our home, which he did, and would not let us pay him. He is a master craftsman and it is a joy to watch him magically transfer a room in, what seems to me, a matter of a few minutes. Jo Anne tried to pay him for his work this time and he said he wouldn't do the job if she did. We will try to find other ways to make it up to him, but of course, that will be impossible. You know when somebody is doing something for you out of love and desire and not just out of duty. His example is always humbling to me. He is but the tip of the iceberg of so many others who have given so selflessly over the years to bless our lives.
The unsettling thought that is always lurking somewhere in the back of my mind is "Am I more of a taker then a giver?" Whenever I go see a doctor or have a nurse come to the home, the first thing they do is take my vital signs. They check my blood pressure and temperature (I always ask them if I am still alive) and if that is okay then they can begin to work on other problems with the realization that I am not in imminent danger of passing on to the other side. We probably ought to do a frequent check of our spiritual vital signs that give us a reading of where we are on the "giving or taking" continuum. If the "taking" is alarmingly greater than the "giving" we may be in imminent danger of spiritual death.
The parable of the Good Samaritan has been expounded by many over the years. My take on it, and it is not original with me, is that it is a macro view of human nature with regard to giving and taking. The thieves that beat the poor man almost to death and took all his possessions had the attitude, "What is yours is mine if I am strong enough or smart enough to take it from you." The mindset of the Priest and Levite was, "What is mine is mine and I intend to keep it and not give it away." The attitude of the innkeeper was, "What is mine is yours if you have enough money to pay for it." And finally the Good Samaritan felt that "What is mine is yours and you are welcome to it, and as much as you need, for as long as you need."
I think we would all like to be like the Good Samaritan, but truthfully at times, because of the natural man in us that is still alive and well, we probably are a composite of all these attitudes. Hopefully by the end of the day we will be more like the Good Samaritan than the other characters in the parable.
Of course, on the broad-spectrum of giving and taking, Christ is on one end and Satan on the other. One is the great "giver" and the other the great "taker." Satan only wanted to take everything from us as well as the glory from the Father. He is still trying to do that through evil people that follow his lead as "takers." What did Christ give? He gave us our agency, and the opportunity to inherit the greatest gift we can receive which is the gift of eternal life. In doing so he gave his life; "Greater love hath no man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends." [John 15: 13]
I really do want to be more of a giver than a taker but I'm not there yet, I'm afraid. Hopefully we all might someday fully realize and implement in our daily lives the truth communicated by the priest to Jean Valjean, "Life is for giving not taking!"
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
A few weeks ago I had an unexpectedly sweet experience with Les Miserables. I am addicted to Turner Classic Movies and especially enjoy movies from the late 30s through the 50s. I noticed that a 1936 version of Les Miserables starring Frederic March as Jean Valjean and Charles Laughton as Javert was beginning soon. I was tempted not to watch it having seen so many Les Miserables productions through the years, but having nothing better to do -- no Dodgers games were on TV -- I decided to give it a try.
I immediately realized it was astonishingly well done. It was very true to Victor Hugo's book and I was caught and reeled into a couple of hours of absolutely mesmerizing entertainment.
There was one scene that had a greater impact on me in this 1936 production than any other of the many I have seen. It was when Jean Valjean had stolen the priest's silver dishes and silverware, had been captured by the police, and brought back to the priest's lodgings. Jean Valjean's life was changed forever when the priest assured the police that he had given the silver to him as a present. The police looked on in amazement as the priest walked over to the two beautiful silver candlesticks above the mantle and told Jean Valjean that he must have forgotten them. He proceeded to place them in the bag along with the other silver items. The priest then said to Jean Valjean in a soft but penetrating voice as he intensely looked into his eyes, "Whenever you look at these candlesticks remember that life is for giving and not taking!" The confused but humbled Jean Valjean stumbled out into the night a changed man. The priest's words that "... life is for giving and not taking" became the standard by which Jean Valjean governed his life from that moment on.
I have done a lot of thinking about that line for some time now. During my lifetime I have been the recipient of countless acts of kindness by many whose lives have been all about giving and not taking. The addition to our home was built by men and women who only wanted to give and give. A good friend of ours, a professional wallpaper hanger and very good friend, just spent the last three days in our home stripping off old wallpaper and hanging some new. Years ago he volunteered to wallpaper our home, which he did, and would not let us pay him. He is a master craftsman and it is a joy to watch him magically transfer a room in, what seems to me, a matter of a few minutes. Jo Anne tried to pay him for his work this time and he said he wouldn't do the job if she did. We will try to find other ways to make it up to him, but of course, that will be impossible. You know when somebody is doing something for you out of love and desire and not just out of duty. His example is always humbling to me. He is but the tip of the iceberg of so many others who have given so selflessly over the years to bless our lives.
The unsettling thought that is always lurking somewhere in the back of my mind is "Am I more of a taker then a giver?" Whenever I go see a doctor or have a nurse come to the home, the first thing they do is take my vital signs. They check my blood pressure and temperature (I always ask them if I am still alive) and if that is okay then they can begin to work on other problems with the realization that I am not in imminent danger of passing on to the other side. We probably ought to do a frequent check of our spiritual vital signs that give us a reading of where we are on the "giving or taking" continuum. If the "taking" is alarmingly greater than the "giving" we may be in imminent danger of spiritual death.
The parable of the Good Samaritan has been expounded by many over the years. My take on it, and it is not original with me, is that it is a macro view of human nature with regard to giving and taking. The thieves that beat the poor man almost to death and took all his possessions had the attitude, "What is yours is mine if I am strong enough or smart enough to take it from you." The mindset of the Priest and Levite was, "What is mine is mine and I intend to keep it and not give it away." The attitude of the innkeeper was, "What is mine is yours if you have enough money to pay for it." And finally the Good Samaritan felt that "What is mine is yours and you are welcome to it, and as much as you need, for as long as you need."
I think we would all like to be like the Good Samaritan, but truthfully at times, because of the natural man in us that is still alive and well, we probably are a composite of all these attitudes. Hopefully by the end of the day we will be more like the Good Samaritan than the other characters in the parable.
Of course, on the broad-spectrum of giving and taking, Christ is on one end and Satan on the other. One is the great "giver" and the other the great "taker." Satan only wanted to take everything from us as well as the glory from the Father. He is still trying to do that through evil people that follow his lead as "takers." What did Christ give? He gave us our agency, and the opportunity to inherit the greatest gift we can receive which is the gift of eternal life. In doing so he gave his life; "Greater love hath no man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends." [John 15: 13]
I really do want to be more of a giver than a taker but I'm not there yet, I'm afraid. Hopefully we all might someday fully realize and implement in our daily lives the truth communicated by the priest to Jean Valjean, "Life is for giving not taking!"
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Pressure sores and repentance
I'm still alive! That's the good news, but the bad news is that I am still battling this little pressure sore. It is amazing to me how such a little thing can alter one's lifestyle so drastically. It has been a problem since May, causing me to spend about a month and a half in bed the past three months. I have learned a great deal this summer because of this new challenge however, and feel as Evita did when she sang, "Don't cry for me, Guatemala!" (Or was it Argentina?)
I have discovered, to my consternation, that I still belong to that large group of people seeking to be cured in the manner described by Elaine Marshall, former Dean of the school of nursing at BYU, who said of the word "cure," that it "... is clean, quick, and done, often under anesthesia." The human part of me would stand in any line, however long it was, to get that kind of a quick fix cure.
Pressure sores are created over a long period of time however, and I know through personal experience that they are not susceptible to the clean, quick, and done cure that I would desire.
I have thought of my pressure sore as a metaphor for sin and repentance. Because of unwise sitting (living) the pressure exerted on one particular part of the anatomy prevents the blood from flowing and nourishing the tissue and it begins to die. Layers of dead skin begin to build up underneath the surface as living, healthy tissue is destroyed. All of this damage takes place without the victim being aware that part of his body is being destroyed because he -- at least in my case -- is "past feeling." When the top layer of skin finally bursts open you are only seeing the tip of the iceberg. The healing must take place from the inside out -- all the dead tissue must be eliminated before the blood flow can begin to nourish and heal the healthy tissue once again.
So how do we eliminate the dead tissue -- sin and its deadening influence on our spirits -- so that healing can take place? The first and most important thing is to eliminate the pressure from the afflicted area which in my case means lying in bed for days at a time. If it is a "spiritual pressure sore" the same principle of course applies -- the sin, the cause of the festering sore, must be totally removed.
As the pressure is removed healing can at last begin to take place. However, how foolish it is to think that it will be cured overnight. In my case, an enzyme in the form of a topical ointment that comes from the papaya fruit is inserted into the wound and causes a reaction that will eventually eat away the dead tissue. Until all the dead tissue is eaten away healing will not take place. How does this apply to repentance? One must perhaps go to a bishop, begin searching the Scriptures, praying with more frequency and fervency, serving and loving others until the layers of dead spirituality are gradually eaten away. These are the enzymes that must be applied daily and over a long period of time. We cannot be "cured" from sin overnight -- a "healing" must take place instead of a "cure." Dr. Elaine Marshall's definition of healing is very important as we consider pressure sores and repentance: "...Healing... is often a lifelong process of recovery and growth in spite of—perhaps because of—enduring physical, emotional, or spiritual assault. It often requires time. We may pray for cure when we really need healing." (April, 2004, Ensign, 57)
I have been so frustrated at times wanting this darned pressure sore to be "cured." Every time Jo Anne unveils it I wait for good news but until just very recently she sadly reports to me, "I'm sorry, but it looks about the same, no worse and no better." It is much smaller now thankfully, and I finally can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it just didn't take place overnight.
I have learned through my life experience that nothing that is of any really lasting value is planted and harvested overnight. As I look out my bedroom window I see a lemon tree, a grapefruit tree, and an orange tree I planted in our backyard in 1975. It seemed like forever before these trees produced any fruit but now year after year we harvest and enjoy this delicious fruit. I do believe the law of the harvest is a true and eternal law and is at play in all our lives." Fear not to do good, my sons, for whatsoever ye sow, that shall ye also reap; therefore, if ye sow good ye shall also reap good for your reward." [D&C 6:33]
As badly as we would like to be instantly cured from our health problems, in most cases, it really is "healing" that we need. This principle of course applies to all aspects of our lives.
The world is full of get rich quick schemes, or how to learn Polish in 10 easy lessons or the piano in 5. The truth of the matter is that most good things come only after we have paid the price of hard work, self-discipline, and the passage of time.
I have also learned, as I had been confined to my bed, how important it is to have daily goals to strive to accomplish. My first inclination when I realize that I can no longer have the freedom even to get up and roll around in my wheelchair is to curl up in a fetal position, watch endless hours of TV, and just vegetate. Thankfully I am able to get rid of that attitude in a heartbeat and put myself on a strict schedule. I spend six to seven hours each day working on my laptop in bed, studying, researching, and writing. I have daily goals and when I finally watch the Dodgers or the Olympics I feel pretty good about myself and the work I have done that day and probably appreciate and enjoy the discretionary time that is left to me.
I think the Lord did intend for man to work and to work hard. Yes, we do reap what we sow -- the law of the harvest is real even in the healing of a pressure sore -- not even a quick fix in this arena!
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
I have discovered, to my consternation, that I still belong to that large group of people seeking to be cured in the manner described by Elaine Marshall, former Dean of the school of nursing at BYU, who said of the word "cure," that it "... is clean, quick, and done, often under anesthesia." The human part of me would stand in any line, however long it was, to get that kind of a quick fix cure.
Pressure sores are created over a long period of time however, and I know through personal experience that they are not susceptible to the clean, quick, and done cure that I would desire.
I have thought of my pressure sore as a metaphor for sin and repentance. Because of unwise sitting (living) the pressure exerted on one particular part of the anatomy prevents the blood from flowing and nourishing the tissue and it begins to die. Layers of dead skin begin to build up underneath the surface as living, healthy tissue is destroyed. All of this damage takes place without the victim being aware that part of his body is being destroyed because he -- at least in my case -- is "past feeling." When the top layer of skin finally bursts open you are only seeing the tip of the iceberg. The healing must take place from the inside out -- all the dead tissue must be eliminated before the blood flow can begin to nourish and heal the healthy tissue once again.
So how do we eliminate the dead tissue -- sin and its deadening influence on our spirits -- so that healing can take place? The first and most important thing is to eliminate the pressure from the afflicted area which in my case means lying in bed for days at a time. If it is a "spiritual pressure sore" the same principle of course applies -- the sin, the cause of the festering sore, must be totally removed.
As the pressure is removed healing can at last begin to take place. However, how foolish it is to think that it will be cured overnight. In my case, an enzyme in the form of a topical ointment that comes from the papaya fruit is inserted into the wound and causes a reaction that will eventually eat away the dead tissue. Until all the dead tissue is eaten away healing will not take place. How does this apply to repentance? One must perhaps go to a bishop, begin searching the Scriptures, praying with more frequency and fervency, serving and loving others until the layers of dead spirituality are gradually eaten away. These are the enzymes that must be applied daily and over a long period of time. We cannot be "cured" from sin overnight -- a "healing" must take place instead of a "cure." Dr. Elaine Marshall's definition of healing is very important as we consider pressure sores and repentance: "...Healing... is often a lifelong process of recovery and growth in spite of—perhaps because of—enduring physical, emotional, or spiritual assault. It often requires time. We may pray for cure when we really need healing." (April, 2004, Ensign, 57)
I have been so frustrated at times wanting this darned pressure sore to be "cured." Every time Jo Anne unveils it I wait for good news but until just very recently she sadly reports to me, "I'm sorry, but it looks about the same, no worse and no better." It is much smaller now thankfully, and I finally can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it just didn't take place overnight.
I have learned through my life experience that nothing that is of any really lasting value is planted and harvested overnight. As I look out my bedroom window I see a lemon tree, a grapefruit tree, and an orange tree I planted in our backyard in 1975. It seemed like forever before these trees produced any fruit but now year after year we harvest and enjoy this delicious fruit. I do believe the law of the harvest is a true and eternal law and is at play in all our lives." Fear not to do good, my sons, for whatsoever ye sow, that shall ye also reap; therefore, if ye sow good ye shall also reap good for your reward." [D&C 6:33]
As badly as we would like to be instantly cured from our health problems, in most cases, it really is "healing" that we need. This principle of course applies to all aspects of our lives.
The world is full of get rich quick schemes, or how to learn Polish in 10 easy lessons or the piano in 5. The truth of the matter is that most good things come only after we have paid the price of hard work, self-discipline, and the passage of time.
I have also learned, as I had been confined to my bed, how important it is to have daily goals to strive to accomplish. My first inclination when I realize that I can no longer have the freedom even to get up and roll around in my wheelchair is to curl up in a fetal position, watch endless hours of TV, and just vegetate. Thankfully I am able to get rid of that attitude in a heartbeat and put myself on a strict schedule. I spend six to seven hours each day working on my laptop in bed, studying, researching, and writing. I have daily goals and when I finally watch the Dodgers or the Olympics I feel pretty good about myself and the work I have done that day and probably appreciate and enjoy the discretionary time that is left to me.
I think the Lord did intend for man to work and to work hard. Yes, we do reap what we sow -- the law of the harvest is real even in the healing of a pressure sore -- not even a quick fix in this arena!
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
ICU experience
A while back I noticed Jo Anne studying my life insurance policy. She informed me that if I were to suffer an accidental death she would receive double the face value of the policy. Then, and this kind of disturbed me a bit, she asked me what could constitute an accidental death for someone in my condition? Without thinking, I blurted out a number of scenarios that would surely do me in and would be viewed by the authorities as "accidental death."
I didn't think much about it after that until a week ago last Sunday evening. Jo Anne was performing a medical procedure on me and inadvertently bumped the humidifier which is full of water and delivers me the moisture I need through a 6 foot long ventilator hose. One end of the hose is attached to the humidifier and the other to my throat. When the humidifier tipped, the water in the humidifier immediately drained through the ventilator hose into my lungs before Jo Anne could do anything about it. Instantly I was unable to breathe, turned purple, and was literally drowning. Jo Anne was doing everything in her power to keep me alive, which was very comforting given our life insurance policy discussion, and was able to dial 911. Within 10 minutes three police cars, a fire engine, and a paramedic vehicle arrived at the scene. They have been here before. These good folks took over from Jo Anne, got some oxygen into me, and we made a mad dash to the ER in Irvine. Once in the ER, I was stabilized; but, thinking that I might get bacterial pneumonia, they deemed it wise to keep me in ICU for a few days for observation and to pump me full of antibiotics.
Wednesday afternoon I was released to go home. Jo Anne and my son Richard got the van all loaded up with me in it and we headed for home with Rich going back to work. We had gone but a short distance when Jo Anne realized we had left behind a beautiful vase of flowers Mike and Richard had given us for our 44th wedding anniversary, which we had celebrated the previous day while in the ICU. She turned the van around and was fortunately able to find a parking spot directly in front of the large main doors of the hospital. She stopped the van; I had her turn on my favorite Robert Goulet CD, and then she made a dash for the hospital to recover the flowers.
Just as she left, I felt I was getting dizzy or lightheaded because it seemed to me like the van was moving backwards. I blinked my eyes in an attempt to clear my head, and then realized that the van was actually freewheeling backwards down the driveway toward a two-lane road that bordered the hospital. I really didn't panic but the thought occurred to me that this may be the incident that will enable Jo Anne to collect on that accidental death life insurance policy. Well, the van was picking up speed, and I guess you would have to be paralyzed from the neck down, unable to turn your head to see where you're going, and unable to do anything even if you could see, to fully appreciate my predicament. Finally, and miraculously, the van and I crossed the two lane road, jumped the curb, ran through a flower bed, and finally was gently stopped when the back bumper came into contact with a small tree. Several nurses and two security guards came running up to see what had happened. They quickly ascertained that I had nothing to do with the escapade and were puzzled as to what had happened. I was as puzzled as they were, and all we could figure is that Jo Anne had put the van in neutral instead of park as she made her run for the flowers. I pled with them to go easy on Jo Anne, no handcuffs, and that it was just simply an "accident."
As Jo Anne walked out of the hospital she couldn't see the van and thought that maybe some foolish person had "quadnapped" me. Then she saw the security guards surrounding the van which was parked some distance away. She ran up extremely concerned, as you can imagine, and the security guards assured her that all was well. They did point out to her the difference between Neutral and Park, for which I was grateful.
All the way home she pled her case -- "Jack, please believe me, it truly was just an accident!" Well, she was pretty convincing but her excuses sounded to me a bit like the excuse Aaron gave to Moses when he was confronted by his brother regarding why he made the golden calf. I can just see Moses rolling his eyes when Aaron said; "And I said unto them [the children of Israel], Whosoever hath any gold, let them break it off. So they gave it me: then I cast it into the fire, and there came out this calf." [Exodus 32: 24]
Don't you think Jo Anne is a good sport to let me write about her the way I do? On a more serious note (and very tender one to me) is that she brought her trusty air mattress into the ICU room and spent all three nights there with me. Based on many experiences in ICU, we know those wonderful nurses simply do not know how to take care of somebody with all of my issues. They just don't see that many patients like me, for which I am sure they are grateful. I was on a hospital ventilator and every time I would doze off, an alarm would go off that sounded like a calliope at an amusement park. One night, at least 20 times, Jo Anne would be getting up, leaning over the bed, checking the trachea system, and making sure I was breathing. On one occasion, as she looked at me my eyes were wide open and she thought, rolled back into my head. She knew I had died. She screamed, slapped my face, and started shaking me. I was wide awake before the slap but now I was very alert! The ICU people went ballistic thinking they had a casualty on their hands. I wonder why they were so eager to help us pack and leave the next day? Multiply what Jo Anne did for me in the ICU those three nights by 19 years of days and nights and you get a little glimpse of what charity is all about.
It was another bump in the road, a broken bow, and life goes on. Speaking of life going on, did you feel what I just felt? It's either the end of the world or an earthquake! Jo Anne just ran in and said it was an earthquake! (5.5 Chino Hills quake) Could she have caused it?
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
I didn't think much about it after that until a week ago last Sunday evening. Jo Anne was performing a medical procedure on me and inadvertently bumped the humidifier which is full of water and delivers me the moisture I need through a 6 foot long ventilator hose. One end of the hose is attached to the humidifier and the other to my throat. When the humidifier tipped, the water in the humidifier immediately drained through the ventilator hose into my lungs before Jo Anne could do anything about it. Instantly I was unable to breathe, turned purple, and was literally drowning. Jo Anne was doing everything in her power to keep me alive, which was very comforting given our life insurance policy discussion, and was able to dial 911. Within 10 minutes three police cars, a fire engine, and a paramedic vehicle arrived at the scene. They have been here before. These good folks took over from Jo Anne, got some oxygen into me, and we made a mad dash to the ER in Irvine. Once in the ER, I was stabilized; but, thinking that I might get bacterial pneumonia, they deemed it wise to keep me in ICU for a few days for observation and to pump me full of antibiotics.
Wednesday afternoon I was released to go home. Jo Anne and my son Richard got the van all loaded up with me in it and we headed for home with Rich going back to work. We had gone but a short distance when Jo Anne realized we had left behind a beautiful vase of flowers Mike and Richard had given us for our 44th wedding anniversary, which we had celebrated the previous day while in the ICU. She turned the van around and was fortunately able to find a parking spot directly in front of the large main doors of the hospital. She stopped the van; I had her turn on my favorite Robert Goulet CD, and then she made a dash for the hospital to recover the flowers.
Just as she left, I felt I was getting dizzy or lightheaded because it seemed to me like the van was moving backwards. I blinked my eyes in an attempt to clear my head, and then realized that the van was actually freewheeling backwards down the driveway toward a two-lane road that bordered the hospital. I really didn't panic but the thought occurred to me that this may be the incident that will enable Jo Anne to collect on that accidental death life insurance policy. Well, the van was picking up speed, and I guess you would have to be paralyzed from the neck down, unable to turn your head to see where you're going, and unable to do anything even if you could see, to fully appreciate my predicament. Finally, and miraculously, the van and I crossed the two lane road, jumped the curb, ran through a flower bed, and finally was gently stopped when the back bumper came into contact with a small tree. Several nurses and two security guards came running up to see what had happened. They quickly ascertained that I had nothing to do with the escapade and were puzzled as to what had happened. I was as puzzled as they were, and all we could figure is that Jo Anne had put the van in neutral instead of park as she made her run for the flowers. I pled with them to go easy on Jo Anne, no handcuffs, and that it was just simply an "accident."
As Jo Anne walked out of the hospital she couldn't see the van and thought that maybe some foolish person had "quadnapped" me. Then she saw the security guards surrounding the van which was parked some distance away. She ran up extremely concerned, as you can imagine, and the security guards assured her that all was well. They did point out to her the difference between Neutral and Park, for which I was grateful.
All the way home she pled her case -- "Jack, please believe me, it truly was just an accident!" Well, she was pretty convincing but her excuses sounded to me a bit like the excuse Aaron gave to Moses when he was confronted by his brother regarding why he made the golden calf. I can just see Moses rolling his eyes when Aaron said; "And I said unto them [the children of Israel], Whosoever hath any gold, let them break it off. So they gave it me: then I cast it into the fire, and there came out this calf." [Exodus 32: 24]
Don't you think Jo Anne is a good sport to let me write about her the way I do? On a more serious note (and very tender one to me) is that she brought her trusty air mattress into the ICU room and spent all three nights there with me. Based on many experiences in ICU, we know those wonderful nurses simply do not know how to take care of somebody with all of my issues. They just don't see that many patients like me, for which I am sure they are grateful. I was on a hospital ventilator and every time I would doze off, an alarm would go off that sounded like a calliope at an amusement park. One night, at least 20 times, Jo Anne would be getting up, leaning over the bed, checking the trachea system, and making sure I was breathing. On one occasion, as she looked at me my eyes were wide open and she thought, rolled back into my head. She knew I had died. She screamed, slapped my face, and started shaking me. I was wide awake before the slap but now I was very alert! The ICU people went ballistic thinking they had a casualty on their hands. I wonder why they were so eager to help us pack and leave the next day? Multiply what Jo Anne did for me in the ICU those three nights by 19 years of days and nights and you get a little glimpse of what charity is all about.
It was another bump in the road, a broken bow, and life goes on. Speaking of life going on, did you feel what I just felt? It's either the end of the world or an earthquake! Jo Anne just ran in and said it was an earthquake! (5.5 Chino Hills quake) Could she have caused it?
Dad/Grandpa/Jack
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