There are two things no commander—and no human being—can ever control ... You cannot control the decisions of others, and you cannot control the actions of God. An intelligent officer will try to anticipate both of those things and allow for them, but a wise officer will not blame himself when God comes along and screws up a perfectly good plan with no warning at all ... it's that God has a very peculiar sense of humor . . . and an even more peculiar sense of timing.
-- David Weber, Echoes of Honor
Occasionally, I am prone to waxing philosophical. When the mood strikes me, I wonder about the meaning of life, why we're here, what we're supposed to be doing, what's for dinner, and the fact that I have to replace my flat spare tire. Okay, not all the thoughts are about big ideas, nobody's perfect. But, I will share some of my more philosophical thought with you.
Albert Einstein once asked if we believed that God played dice. Does God Have A Sense of Humor? Or, is God a practical joker?
First and foremost, I wonder if there is a God. Is there some benevolent creature with a white flowing beard sitting up in heaven watching us like so many guppies in a fishbowl, going about our daily routines, busily oblivious to the universe outside that fishbowl. Do we exist merely for God's amusement?
Perhaps watching us is the celestial equivalent of watching soap operas on television.
Or, is God a sadistic SOB? Does he set up there in heaven watching a stub our toes and skin our knees, while some of us, through sheer dumb luck, become billionaires, find the love of our life, have beautiful, brilliant children and live happily ever after?
Is it a game? Winner take all and get into heaven. But then, who's the winner? Is it the person who dies with the most toys. Or is it the person who suffers, in this life, the most. Though suffering and self-flagellation really get you into heaven? Personally, I doubt it. As the 1980s rock band, Blood Sweat and Tears, once said, "I swear there ain't no heaven and I pray there ain't no hell." I'm not saying that's how I actually feel. So don't get angry with me now. It's just one possible point of view. It's worth examining.
By the way, where is heaven? What are the celestial coordinates?
Is God real, a figment of our imagination , or a self delusional joke? Is the whole universe a random burp that flashed into existence out of absolute nothingness? Did you ever think about absolute nothingness? It's hard. There is no time or space, no existence. It's a difficult concept to get your brain around.
Did all this always exist? Do you buy into the concept of the eternal Big Bang? Can you even get your brain around the concept of eternity or infinity? Does the universe cycle through being smaller than a pinpoint and hotter than hell, exploding, cooling, congealing, and eventually dying out in freezing only to be sucked back together again by gravity into that tiny dot of hot, massively dense stuff scientists call plasma.
I have to talk about one more thing. Science tells us that our world, our universe, follows the law of entropy. The law of entropy tells us that the universe and the world in which we live go from a state of high order and organization, and increasingly becomes more disorganized over time. Entropy tells us that the world around us decays over time. For example, this certainly explains why our shiny new car eventually, over time, becomes a decrepit, broken down wreck. It
tells us why we, as humans, become old, feeble, and eventually pass away. It tells us why the pyramids of ancient Egypt are starting to crumble and why the sphynx lost his nose over the ages.
However, it doesn't account for the genesis of a new baby, a new life, which flourishes and grows to middle-age before it declines. It doesn't tell us how we can mine iron ore, create steel, and form that steel into a car to begin with. Birth, metal refining, building and construction, the creation of the world around us, are all processes which are counter to entropy.
What are we missing here?
Okay, enough waxing philosophical. What I'm really trying to figure out is why there are billionaires and paupers. Why do some live to a ripe old age and others go to their eternal sleep as innocent children? Bottom line: Is there a reason that I am here? Is there a reason my life has taken the bizarre, twisting, life-changing turn that it has? Am I starting a new chapter in my story? I think there is some relevance to that notion. After all, despite events, I'm not dead! And, very easily could have been. In fact, I very nearly was.
You see, on September 14, 2008 I had a stroke, a blood clot in my brain. During my rehabilitation and my months in the hospital I lost everything. Before the stroke, I was a successful, upper middle-class entrepreneur. I started a business with a partner. When I had my stroke, George Bush was still President. The economy was still chugging along. The business my partner and I had started was still keeping me fed.
But on that day, for me, the world changed. I went from normal, middle-class active guy to a near vegetable in a matter of hours. I nearly died. In fact, they told my kids to come and visit because I might not make it.
Well, despite the odds, despite the massive trauma to my brain, I'm still here! And, I am no longer confined to a wheelchair with my right side paralyzed and useless. Oh, sure, there are some lasting physical side effects. I haven't been able to work in nearly 2 years. But I'm here, I'm alive, and I have a new found mission. And that, my friends, is the story of this book.
...
It was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any minute. And it was not without warning. The first sign, the first tics of the bomb, the first symptoms actually started in 1999, and I had no idea what was happening. But the signs were there. The changes were there. Slowly, it started to make subtle changes in my personality. It made subtle changes in the way I thought. But then, in a crescendo, what was happening to me became evident on September 14, 2008. I guess you could say that that was the end of my life as I knew it. However, it was also a beginning; A beginning of a new phase, new chapter to be experienced and explore.
…
This would normally be an ordinary story of an ordinary man with an ordinary wife and three ordinary children. Ordinary, some would even say boring. It started out that way. But it changed. It changed in a very dramatic way. But it didn't happen overnight. In fact, in retrospect, it started several years before, in 1999, and nobody understood, least of all me. In my wildest imagination, I wouldn't have guessed what was happening inside my brain.
What's very disturbing is that this could happen to anybody, anyplace, anytime. If so, this is my story; but it is also a story of thousands of other people, and a lesson to you and those you love
about things you should look for. It is the story of a stroke, or “a heart attack in the brain” as it is often called. It is my story about the fragility of our lives. It is about understanding what is important to us. It is about the choices in our lives.
I always thought strokes for something that happened to the elderly. Although, in retrospect, my friend, Bob's, mother died of a massive stroke in her late 50s. I should've known better. When I was in the rehabilitation ward, I met a young lady, 25 years old. This was her fourth stroke! I was inspired by another woman who returned to the ward to visit her therapists. She was in her 40s. She, like me, had been partially paralyzed and confined to a wheel chair. Now, she was up, walking, and talking. I thought at the time, maybe, just maybe, that could be me someday. Then of course, there were the classical elderly people who suffered brain trauma. But I never, neve imagine that the stroke ward would contain so many patients my age or younger.
xxxxxxx
...
It was a Sunday like any other. I was, in retrospect, a creature of habit -- on the way to my mother’s house to do some chores and to take her for lunch just like I did almost every Sunday. As always, I made a couple phone calls on the 30 minute drive there I had to make a couple of more on the 30 minute ride home. The only thing different about today was that my contact lenses were bothering me, or so I thought. I just made a mental note to call the eye doctor on Monday and have it checked out. It wasn't a big thing. I didn't even mention it to my mother or in my various phone conversations.
Mom and I chit chatted for a bit. She told me about the latest book she was reading (mom is a voracious reader). We decided to go off to lunch. It was the usual, One of the three or four restaurants in my mother's neighborhood. We talked about work and neighbors. The usual stuff.
I bought her lunch and we headed back to her house. It was a nice place. A two-bedroom condo that she and my dad remodel before he passed. There were always a couple of chores to do on the weekend. I did my chores, gave mom a kiss, and headed back home.
Again, other than the contact bothering me, there wasn't any real problem! The only symptom of the time was the blurry, blacked out vision to my right. So home I went, making my usual calls.
...
I arrived at home. I was going to do a half an hour's worth of work or so. I was a partner in a small business, there was nothing resembling a real day off.
I looked at the computer screen and remember being frustrated, perplexed. I could see the characters on the screen. But they were just that, letters and numbers. They steadfastly refused to resolve into words. It didn't matter how much I stared. It didn't matter how much I concentrated. But it certainly was frustrating. Instead of words, the letters and numbers just made pretty little pictures on the computer screen. I walked downstairs and into the living room I knew something was wrong, but I didn't think it was serious perhaps I was tired. Perhaps I needed new contact lenses. Perhaps I needed new glasses.
I wandered downstairs to tell my wife, Tara. We were supposed to watch some television together after I finished my half hour or so of work. When I got there, I started to tell her about the problem with my eyes. I was probably just tired. Tara seemed visibly upset. She told me to lie down on the couch. But, I didn't want to lie down on the couch! I wanted to talk to her. Again, she insisted that I lie down. I couldn't figure out why, but clearly she was overreacting to something! So I laid down. Well, I lay down for a minute or so. Then I set up. I was really aggravated. She wasn't sticking around to listen to me! The next thing I know, she had called an ambulance. Great. Just what I needed. But I went along with again. They asked me questions, poked and prodded, and bundled me onto a gurney. I wasn't quite sure why. Well, it wasn't the first time I've been to hospital!
I vaguely remember expecting to be home fairly soon. I think Tara said she was going to call the kids. But since I expected to be home soon, I told her not to tell them I was going off in the ambulance. I didn't want them to worry. So, taking me at my word, Tara kept my trip to the hospital quiet.
…
I clearly remember the arrival of the ambulance, the poking and prodding of the attendance, and the fairly chatty ride to the hospital. I even remember being wheeled in to the emergency room. At that point, other than my vision, everything seemed to still or your, at least it seems so to me. In retrospect, that was probably not correct. There must have been some outward signs of which I was then, as now, unaware. That is the last thing I remember as the world went blank.
I woke up.
It was as ifI had stepped into a parallel universe. It was like a science fiction novel, one of those about alternate reality. The scenery looked familiar. The sounds were recognizable. But something was off. Something was wrong. Before I fell asleep, my right side worked! Now it didn't. No matter how much I tried to will it, the arm would not lift, the fingers would not curl, the leg would not move.
“My God,” I remember thinking, ”I soiled myself!” I couldn't even get up to go to the bathroom. Something was definitely, definitely wrong.
...
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