Philo of Alexandria was quoted as having said, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.”
I believe that every human being, at some point and to some extent in life, encounters and struggles with a mental, physical, emotional and/or spiritual disability.
Whether it was a blessing or a curse for me, I wrestled with them all. And, I still do.
If you have ever been afraid, you may want to read my memoir, “I’m Afraid”.
If you have never been afraid, you may want to read it twice.
Welcome to my world.
Do not be afraid.
Introduction
Chapter 1: I’M Afraid
Chapter Two: Childhood Changes Friends
Chapter Three: Changes
Chapter Four: An Old Friend
Chapter Five: Hope
Chapter Six: You Can’t Go Home Again
Chapter Seven: Learning to Crawl
Chapter Eight: Second Opinion?
Chapter Nine: Mecca
Chapter Ten: Back To Reality
Chapter Eleven: Seems Like Old Times
Chapter Twelve: Anger
Chapter Thirteen: The Poetry of Anger
Chapter Fourteen: Try Anything
Chapter Fifteen: The Funeral of An Old Friend
Chapter Sixteen: So…What Do I Do Now?
Chapter Seventeen: Big Things and Little Things
Chapter Eighteen: Reflections
EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 3
On December 3, 1988, my wife, Laura, and I attended an annual dinner dance honoring the outgoing president of our local dental society. At the time, I was the Secretary of the Board of Directors of the Scranton District Dental Society, and local director of Continuing Education credits for the Pennsylvania Academy of General Dentistry.
In previous years, I had served as a chairman of Children’s Dental Health Month, an active member of the Academy of General Dentistry, an inductee into the Pierre Fauchard Academy, an international dental honor society, and president of the Lackawanna Unit of the American Cancer Society.
As did many of my colleagues, I donated my services performing free oral cancer screenings for the general public, and free dentistry sponsored by the Jewish Family Services at the Jewish Community Center in Scranton.
In January, I would become president‑elect of the Scranton District Dental Society and serve as president in 1990.
Although I was honored to be the president-elect of our Society, I was reluctant to accept the position. I was afraid that it might consume too much of my time, time that I should be devoting to my growing practice and my young marriage.
Faced with such a decision, I did what I always did: I tried to think of every possible inability, inadequacy, or incapacity that would, could or should disqualify me for the job; I tried to imagine every possible scenario that would, could, or should cause me to neglect my wife or my practice; and, finally, I tried to determine if, but mostly how, I could, would, or should deal with any or all of these potential problems or situations.
After putting myself through this tedious and convoluted mental exercise, I proceeded to do what I almost always did: I accepted the job. The next few years promised to be busy, exciting, and, of course, worthy of worry.
The morning after the dance, a Sunday, Laura and I went to a health club that we had joined before we were married. That night I felt sore, achy, and slightly feverish, but I attributed these signs of discomfort to my less than religious devotion to exercise.
By Monday morning, my symptoms worsened and were accompanied by chills and a fever of 101 degrees. I assumed that I had the flu, and that my body was simply telling me to slow down and rest for a couple of days. After Laura left for school, where she was a reading specialist, I called Dorothy, my receptionist, and told her that I had the flu and would not be seeing patients for a few days.
I made a cup of tea, poured a glass of orange juice, took the aspirin bottle out of the medicine cabinet, and made my way to the bedroom. I placed everything on the night table, turned on the TV, and crawled into bed. I was ready to do battle with the flu.
When Laura returned from school, my temperature was one hundred and two degrees. The next morning, she took me to see Dr. Eisner, our physician. I had a life-long history of strep throat infections, one severe enough to hospitalize me for five days, two weeks before our wedding.
Since my throat appeared normal, and my lung sounds clear, Dr. Eisner believed that I had a routine case of the flu. He prescribed some medication, and told Laura to call him if there was any change.
Late Wednesday afternoon, my temperature rose to one hundred and three degrees; Laura called Dr. Eisner. On Thursday, the thermometer read one hundred and four. Dr. Eisner told Laura to take me to the lab for blood tests the next morning, and bring me to his office in the afternoon.
By Friday, my throat was inflamed, but my heart rate, blood pressure, and lung sounds were normal. The doctor changed my prescription, and said that if my condition did not improve over the weekend, he might need to admit me to the hospital.
Laura made sure that I always had a full glass of juice or water on the stand next to me. Around ten o’clock Friday night, I reached for the glass and knocked it over. Laura replaced it with a fresh one. Two hours later, I reached for the second glass; I knocked it across the room.
Early Saturday morning I staggered to the bathroom, hoping that a shower would revive me. When I got there, however, I was too weak and unsteady to climb into the tub. Using the hallway wall for support, I made my way back to the bedroom. Laura woke up and saw me standing by the bed, weaving back and forth. She helped me to the living room couch, called my mother, and asked her to drive us to the hospital.
The two of them helped me out of the car and into the emergency room. After he examined me, the emergency room doctor called Dr. Eisner; I was admitted.
Blood was drawn, and a chest x-ray was taken. I was wheeled to my room; intravenous medication was started; and, an oxygen tube was inserted into my nose.
Laura, who was standing by the bed, held my hand and asked me how I was feeling. I tried to answer her, but only garbled sounds came out of my mouth.