With the hurricanes in the Gulf, we’ve been getting a lot of rain lately. When you have rain in 95+ degree weather, the sun peaks through and you get…rainbows! Lots of rainbows. Traditional Western culture sees rainbows as symbols of renewed hope. Actually, no two people see the same rainbow because they can’t occupy the same vantage point at the same time. (In fact, the rainbow you see one minute is not the one you see the next, since the raindrops reflecting the light are constantly in motion.)
That seems right. Hope is personal and changeable. I really don’t need such spectacular reminders of reasons to hope. In every clinic waiting room at MD Anderson, small, transient communities form which offer support. They share everything from advice about how to overcome effects of radiation or chemo, to amusing stories about doctors or treatments, to jokes to food. (The radiation waiting room typically has the best treats!) Human manifestations of kindness and grace.
A few days ago, we were in the blood testing clinic waiting room, and the tech pushed a heavy-set woman out of the clinic in her wheelchair. The tech asked her if she could make it to her next appointment. She referred to her appointment schedule (these are multi-page print-outs that everyone is given to help keep them on schedule). She said,
“No problem – I can push myself.”
I asked her where she was headed. She told me she was going to the BMT clinic. That’s on Floor 8 by the C elevator. We were on Floor 2 by the A elevator. It would be a bit of a strain for her to push herself. I told her I was headed in that direction (OK – I WAS thinking of running to the car to get something) and asked if I could push her. She said that would be great – and we had quite an interesting talk all the way up to 8th floor and over to the BMT clinic. She confided she was hoping for good news…and also confided that when she told the tech she could push herself, she asked God to help her make it – because she didn’t know how she was going to. I guess I must have heard that prayer. What a wonder it was to meet her and have the opportunity to help her.
I finally got here. A lot late, but I’ve been reading backwards. This is an amazing blog. It’s so good to “hear” from you, Rick. I missed you so much at the reunion. Thanks for keeping this – and with your sonnets and all. You really are amazing.
Rick we all miss these stories and your wit around the office. Get well
Rick – hi, I have been thinking about you a lot and finally am putting some thoughts into writing. I guess I never thought of Tracy’s shoes being bigger than Zachary’s, but I know what you mean.
You know I am not much for prayer, but I am praying like crazy for you. I miss you and your always ready wit. I know the Z-boy (he will always be a little boy to me) is taking good care of you. I am sorry I can’t some down to Houston to visit you.
I am working as a cashier at Smith’s grocery store and am applying for other jobs too. We just need to get caught up here now that GW has made bankruptcy so untenable and even more shameful than it was previously.
I am sorry the job for Randy did not work out in Omaha, but he is okay with his job here and James will have some great music opportunities here.
Randy and James are visiting relatives in Idaho, but should return today or tomorrow.
I have to tell you that you have been in my dreams lately…healthy and hairful and up and around. I totally believe this is a sign. A sign that soon I will see you in that manner.
Please feel my love and the love of Randy and James too. We think of you and pray for you.
You know I love you, my brotha!
Leslie