A walk beside the heart
It isn’t difficult to see where it all began. However, that is using hindsight. When it was happening, it was easy to carry on as though nothing was wrong. In fact, it was very important to keep up the appearance that nothing was wrong. Even when everything changed. Even when nothing made sense, the expectations were very high. This is reading very vague at the moment. It’s to be expected. It’s a long story. The real ones usually are long and detailed. And they always start at the end.
This one starts at the end. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end. As the song says. Sometimes the end doesn’t look like the end. But I think that’s a human thing. It’s about hope. Hope can kill you. It’s seriously potent. It becomes evident about half way through a calamity. Then there’s long term hope. That’s the thing about hope. It shows up when least expected and sometimes overstays.
That last part sounds like giving up. It’s not about giving up. Hope prevents that. However, that doesn’t mean hope has common sense. It just means that hope, doesn’t know when to quit. Or walk away. I think that is part of the human condition as well. Maybe that’s a good thing. Humans are notoriously dense. Present authors included.
A Long Walk
Once upon a time I was a dad. Then I became a grandpa. It was a blessing to be part of a traditional life. Furthermore, I led a traditional life. With a wife and four children. I married young, and started my family before my career. Therefore my family became my career. Those were younger days, but even then the deterioration of the modern family was well underway. I couldn’t see it. Thankfully. But to my own disadvantage.
Two of my children had serious medical conditions from birth. Therefore, the medical establishment became an everyday fixture in our little family. From a debilitating heart condition, to type one diabetes, my two oldest children were challenged from the start of their lives. Type one diabetes becomes a horrible monster the longer it lives. It literally kills. Except that it ravages the body first. Then it kills.
I know that last part from personal experience and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. I know what type one diabetes does when it gets thirty five years to live. Supposedly they were searching for a cure long before my experiences with the disease. Now my son is gone from the effects of diabetes, and the disease remains. Not one cure. Not even any interest in a cure. Just more outrageously priced, long term treatment options, that are only available by prescription. Best have the insurance worked out, or it’s no meds for you. Even if you got the money honey. Walk the other way.
Beside the Heart
Ever been there? Watching your kid suffering from a terminal condition, and right inside that store is the medicine to save them, but you can’t have it. However, you have the money. The four hundred fucking dollars for the tiny little bottle, but you can’t have it. Because no doctor wrote a prescription for it. Where’s your doctor? Seriously? You’re seriously going to ask that question in America? My son was white and male. He was at the bottom of every list.
Doctors would not accept him. He was a type one diabetic, and he was blind. Furthermore, he was in stage four renal failure. Therefore he was on dialysis. Three days a week, four hours each time. For the rest of his life. Let me say, I wondered where a doctor was too, for a long damn time. Every fucking minute of every fucking day. And this small paragraph is nothing compared to what he went through. However, he still managed to maintain and keep his courage, and his beautiful heart.
It’s interesting now to see how many people from other countries are now in America getting the best health care. I’m happy for them. After all, I’m helping to pay for it and it’s good to know that the money isn’t going to frivolous things like funding terrorism, or child mutilation causes. I was born and raised in America. In the South no less. I’m among the worst of the worst. White, male, a dad and grandfather. I believe in family. Especially traditional families.
Walk
Hearts are the only thing we have that truly belong to us. Additionally, each one is uniquely beautiful. It’s how we were created. Unique and beautiful. It’s things like anger and greed that corrupt hearts. There is so much backstory to the details in this accounting. For example, my son was diagnosed with type one diabetes when he was three years old. He needed daily insulin injections from the start. It’s not easy. Especially when they’re little.
When he went blind there was no help from institutions. We applied and were denied and on it went. Sometimes it wasn’t worth the heartache. We paid for an eye exam from a retina specialist. It was about hope. Maybe there might be something to work toward. Things were hard. We needed hope. It wasn’t there. That wasn’t where hope could be found. It was silent but it took the wind from our sails. From his sails. I was still on the sideline watching my beloved son suffer and unable to change anything.
The interesting thing about this story, is that it’s a story we used to talk about. All the time. Every day. My son is the one who was convinced there was no real interest in a cure. His weekly diabetes cost was at one hundred thirty respectively. That’s using generic everything and that’s as cheap as it can get and still have a chance at survival. Insulin syringes, blood sugar test strips lancet pens and needles for the lancets. Blood sugar machines, and in his case, machines that could talk, because he was blind.
Heart
I may have mentioned earlier in this story that it’s a long one. This is the tip of the iceberg. This description. It is very minimal. For example, my son went into renal failure at the exact same time as the pandemic began. We spent the first six months of the pandemic in and out of hospitals. We had a reluctant front row seat and a slow walk. And the crazy thing is, all this is only part of the main point of this story. It starts at the end. I suppose it needed a small introduction. Let’s go from there. End part one.
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