January 19, 2001
Doing what the heart suggests...
As most of you know, one of my touchstones, D, is facing a tragedy in her life, her only child is gravely ill.
Matthew was born with a dysfunctional small bowel. Because of his intestine troubles, his liver has failed. He needs a small bowel and liver transplant to save his life. Besides these awful conditions, a few months ago we almost lost Matthew due to a huge bleeding ulcer and blood clot in his stomach. The doctors were able to remove both and he fought back and beat the odds. Last night, Matthew faced another setback – the bleeding resumed.
I went to the hospital as soon as I heard he was admitted. I watched helplessly as nurses and doctors fussed over him, administering to his needs.
I looked over at D and her husband J. They are a remarkable couple. Through every obstacle with Matthew’s health, they have remained the same loving, caring couple they always were. They are truly each other’s best friends and it shows. It’s a trying time and they are braving it beautifully. They will survive this horror because of their love.
At one point during the evening I looked over at Dolly. She was standing over her baby, telling him everything was ok – that mommy was there. She stroked his head and quieted his tears to smile at him. It was a smile through her tears, but it was as bright as the sun for him. His mommy was beside him and he was comforted.
I started thinking about Dolly, how our lives have been since we’ve known each other and all the smiles we’ve shared.
Meeting at the corner between our houses every day for four years to walk to M’s house to pick her up and then walk the rest of the few blocks to our high school; Eating lunch together, passing in the halls and waving and hugging like we hadn’t seen each other in years. Then meeting after school to walk home, or hang out with friends, but always together. Along the way, all those endless conversations and laughs we’d had over who was cute and who wasn’t; who was a bitch, who was easy, who we wanted to marry and what we wanted to be when we grew up.
Flashes of D running up to me telling me she made Basketball Manager; Cheerleader; Home-coming Court; and Class Officer. Confiding who she had a crush on.
Beaming when she got accepted into U of I – Champaign. Then showing off her first dorm room, then apartment. Beaming even brighter when she got into med school and graduated. My proudest moment was when I phoned her office and they told me to hold on for the Doctor. My D – a doctor? It seemed surreal, but natural and normal.
Gushing when she told me that her and John were a little more than friends. Shyly hiding her left hand only to yank it out and surprise me with her engagement ring then asking me to be a bridesmaid. On her wedding day, she was smiling so much I thought her dimples would burst. Then again when they bought their first house and when they got their dog.
However, I know that perhaps the biggest smile came when she told me she was going to be a mom. Her joy was apparent in every inch of her body. She radiated every moment. When Matthew was born she called to tell me about her baby boy, I could hear the excitement in her voice. A few days later, even after he was diagnosed, her joy never faded. It still hasn’t.
So there I was, looking over at my touchstone and I could see the stress of being a 24 hour caregiver, the worry and the fear on her face. I could see the anguish she felt, her helplessness and her desire to be strong and protect her baby.
What could I do? I try and help as much as possible. I run the website and campaign endlessly for fund-raisers. But what is that? That’s nothing.
I cannot make this situation go away. I can’t make Matthew better and neither can she. We’re asking and praying for miracles and they aren’t happening fast enough. I can’t take away her pain and the anger and I can’t answer the question on everyone’s mind – “Why Matthew?”.
So I did all I could do. I did the thing she needs the most. I did what my heart told me to do.
I got up, walked over to her and hugged her as tightly as I could.
For more information on what you can do to help Matthew, please visit our website at www.helpmatthew.org