I wrote this post a few days ago. My sister wrote the most beautiful response, which I’ve included here. Please read and watch the video and go to dyingwithstyle.org to find ways that you can help me change the world. … Continue reading
Last night I had another dream where I could walk. I’ve had several in the past month. I don’t really know what to think about it. The thing is that I might be able to walk. Not now. My legs … Continue reading
First of all, I am a little offended that you all didn’t think I went to a strip club on our first date. What, I’m not good enough to frequent strip clubs? What a bunch of judgmental bloggers…
Anyway, you were right, no drunken strip club that night.
In the interest of not boring anyone, how long do you think we dated before I was diagnosed with MS?
I don’t really know what to say.
Okay…I don’t know exactly how I got to the point that started this whole thing. I could say that I was on a million drugs and they helped me not to feel. They helped me take narcissism to the next level. I think a lot of bloggers are a tad narcissistic in general. Sorry if that offends anyone reading this, but if it does offend, you are probably a narcissist.
Anyway, even if no one else is, I was selfish. Muted emotions helped me to justify whatever I felt like doing. The problem with that way of thinking, other than the selfishness of it, is that you don’t care who you hurt. (I am not saying that everything is the medication’s fault, but it did play a big part). Now that I backed way off the medications, I still struggle with selfishness, but I recognize it…at least some of the time. Feeling things is pretty horrible now, but it will be good in the long run.
So, I guess this post is an apology. I’m truly sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry I didn’t really care. I do love you, and I want things to work out between us. I keep thinking that it is too late, but maybe it’s not. It is worth trying.
Night H.H. , (those initials stand for Hobbler’s husband, if you were wondering) I hope you are having sweet dreams.
You would feel the same way if you saw the look in your kids’ eyes. When you can’t tell who is in more pain, you, or your wife watching helplessly. I know the arguments. I know the reasons. I used to believe them too. Believe them…hell, I preached them…
“Your life is not in your hands! It is appointed unto man once to die. Does that say it is appointed unto man once to feel sorry for himself? It is appointed unto man once to feel some pain? If God wanted you to take your life, he would have put an “easy” button on our bodies so we could check out any time the going gets rough. GOD is the one who decides. He can heal or destroy. Blessed be the name of the Lord in sickness and in health.”
Oh yeah, I believed it alright. I’ll never forget the pained look in Stephanie’s eyes after she talked to me about her mom…
“Pastor Bill, what if someone is hurting…scared…”
“You must believe. You must have faith. There is a reason that she is still here. Don’t give in to the temptation to take the easy way out. I know that it is hard, but God can heal! You can’t forget that. He can take her mind and make it sharp again. If he can stop the mouths of lions, don’t you believe he can give your momma some peace?”
“I know he can. He could…you don’t understand though. She doesn’t know who we are. She is scared of the nurses, driven to madness by the constant beeping. If she has a clear moment, she begs us to take her life. The only reason she is even alive now is because of the medications they pump into her.”
“I am sure it is hard. She needs you to be strong…”
We never did finish that conversation. That is the problem with being a pastor. There is always someone waiting in line to shake your hand and tell you “nice sermon”. She probably didn’t think I cared. I know I didn’t fully understand…
I do now though. How the accident happened, I still can’t remember, but I will never forget the look in my kids eyes when they realized I had just lost control of my bowels. The fear in my wife’s face as she realized that the church would only cover the immediate costs from the accident, not the costs of a few months of inpatient care, and a year, if I’m lucky of home health. “Health” in which I will be lucky to remember who my wife is, as the internal injuries slowly kill me. No one should have to watch their kids wipe their dad’s ass or watch their wife give up her life to care for someone whose “life” isn’t really living at all.
Hobbler’s note: I need to know any objections to assisted suicide. Also any views for it. I wrote that story as fiction, but there are many people in far worse shape than anything I can imagine. Please share your opinions. I was born to take this debate to the next level, and this is your chance to make a difference.
Here is the video I kind of compiled for my 10 year MS anniversary: