A Sudden Change

This last October, I was scheduled to attend a conference in Austin, TX with one of my co-workers. We were given a work vehicle, and were supposed to pick it up from one of the other supervisor’s in our building the Monday before we left. This particular supervisor has worked here for around 30 years, and has contributed in several ways to our department. He is a no-nonsense type of man, but does have a good sense of humor, and is compassionate. The day I went to pick up the keys for our vehicle, I had several days’ growth of beard (which is fine while not working, but if working, is a serious no-no.) He looked at me funny and said, “What’s this shit?” as he rubbed his face. I answered, “Don’t worry Lieutenant, it will be gone before the conference starts,” and shot him a smile. He asked me a couple of other questions about our trip, but still seemed stumped and confused, like he couldn’t get past the beard. After getting the keys, we left for Austin and began our conference, which was a welcome respite from the daily drudges of our office lives.

The next day, I checked my work e-mail from my laptop. There was an e-mail reference this particular supervisor. Apparently sometime that evening, he had been at home, became very dizzy, and fell, slightly injuring himself. He had been taken to the hospital and they were running some tests.

Prior to this, there had been about 3 cases of people that I work with or members of their families having brain aneurisms, and I made the joke to my partner, “My beard freaked out Lt so much he had a brain aneurism!” (‘cause cops are just such dark humored people, we chuckled.) Little did I know.

He was later diagnosed with stage 4 Glioblastoma multiforme, the most common and most aggressive type of primary brain tumor in humans. He and his wife have made trips to the Mayo Clinic in hopes of finding treatment options, however, patients with Glioblastoma usually have a very poor prognosis. Information that we have gotten through e-mails from his family is that the left side of his body is paralyzed. He has returned home, and has begun treatment for the cancer.

This morning an e-mail showed up in everyone’s inbox at our department. It was informing us that he is now under Hospice care. He is alert, drinks well and has somewhat of an appetite, and is comfortable. The hardest part of the e-mail is the comment made by his wife, “I don’t know what kind of time frame we are looking at.”

Which is interesting and one of those “ultimate truth” statements. Here is a man that is one of the hardest workers in our department; a husband, a parent, a community figure, a good man. The last time I saw him, he was in a meeting with other leaders of our department, joking with me, and wishing us a fun and safe trip. In the time it took us to drive to Austin, get settled in to our hotel room and find a bite to eat, his entire world had changed. His entire families world had changed.

I’ve heard of people being diagnosed with terminal illnesses. I’ve heard of horrible accidents happening to people’s loved ones and the affect it had on them. But seeing someone moments before that life altering event, and then feeling the void that is there can be life altering in itself.

It should instill a fear. It should light a fire. It should remind you that even though you accomplish monumental things and are important in the small world in which you have spun for yourself, in the gigantic scheme of the universe and world, you are not so important, and could be gone within a matter of seconds, altered with words spoken, or tests run, or steps taken. So one should be filled with an urgent need to experience things, people, emotions, and places, to say they’ve lived. One should seek to make the experience important, the story of your life important, the differences and impact you have on people, place and thing important. Not to prove to the world how important you are, but to realize how important the world is to you. For it will be here long after we have come and gone.'

What kind of time frame are we dealing with? What does it matter?