The Reason For This All
I did not know until years after my father's death that I was not, in fact his child. His anger at my mother for my illegitimacy was taken out on me in the form of physical, emotional, and mental abuse. Until his death when I was 14, I spent almost every night in fear. However, I knew that some day my mind would give me the tools I needed to be a success and get away from him. Little did I know what would come later.
I worked 60 hours per week to get through college, on my own. Just a few months before graduating, the Crohn’s hit me hard again. Now, I had trouble with it before, but it went away until 1988. But the slew of doctors I saw at the time were clueless as to what was wrong with me. I went on to graduate and start my life as an accountant. But the illness was very bad then. Crohn’s cramps were so bad that I slept on a heating pad, to the point of burning my skin. But just 10 months after graduating, I was too sick to work any more. Still doctors were clueless. I went home to die. My family convinced me to try one more doctor. After running some blood tests, I was admitted to the hospital immediately. My albumin was down to 0.3, which I am told is a record of some kind. Luckily my intestines didn’t rupture until I had been in the hospital a few days. It was then that the diagnosis was made…Crohn’s disease. Like most people I had never heard of it before. At this time, I was told my survival was a "miracle."
I was legally disabled for some time. However, I wanted to work again, but not as an accountant. I wanted a job where I could look at the man in the mirror in the morning. I saw too much dishonesty as an accountant (think Enron). I went into retail management. However, after operation number 6 I was told that my prognosis was grim. I was in the hospital every few months and nothing seemed to work. After this surgery, my first wife decided she couldn’t handle being married to a sick person anymore, so she left and took the only things that mattered to me, my kids. So what did I do? I tried suicide. After all, life was nothing but illness and pain and no woman would ever want to marry a doomed man.
While in the mental hospital in 1997 I was diagnosed as being bi-polar. However, it was there that I decided to make a list of things I had always wanted to do, and do them before I gave up the ghost. One of these things was chat on the internet. In the summer of 1997 I entered a chat room called “Love Stinks” where I met a woman who fascinated me from day one. Over time she came to know my health and what I was up against. She didn’t care. In May of 1998 we met in person for the first time. Honest to God, the moment I kissed her, I knew that there really were such things as “soulmates.” The next few years were spent working with immigration to get her and her son here from Canada so I could legally marry this wonderful woman. In October of 2000 I did just that.
Shortly after that I became gravely ill again. The doctor at the time told me that it was time to stay on disability, that my life as a wage earner was, in fact, over. If I were to keep working, he advised, I would continue to have more surgeries and hospitalizations. Okay, I retired.
In July of 2001 I set another record. My potassium dropped to 1.2. Turns out I secrete it from my colon due to the Crohn’s. Numerous doctors told me that my living was in fact a miracle. Some even said that God must have something very big for me to do in the future. At the time, I thought it was just to be a good father and husband. After all, I was disabled, right?
August 21, 2003 was by far the worst, yet most important day of my life. That day Raine, on life support, dialysis, etc. kept crashing. Every 15 minutes the doctor would come in and say that she could go at any time. Oh I was so filled with rage. “What have I done to deserve this hellish life, God? Is it because I am unclean, the child of an affair? Why have you singled me out for such torture? Why give me the love of my life, only to rip her away from me in such a cruel fashion?” I screamed all of these words to no one in particular. But, this moment is not the end, but in fact the beginning of it all.
A few minutes later, a neighbor of mine stopped by. Let me back up just a bit. Two years prior, I had been playing music for the kids at the local bowling alley, where one girl said she would put me on the prayer list at her church. Fine, you do that, I thought. While I was close with God, I had no time for organized religion. Then about a month before Raine took ill, she was driving down our lane and saw a house with a small Canadian flag on their porch. Raine, being who she is decided to drop in and say hi. The people that lived there were Brandt & Lisa Lyon, Lisa being an immigrant from Canada also. After a bit of conversation, Lisa asked Raine if her husband was named Dwain. Brandt asked her how she knew my name, to which Lisa said that I was on the prayer list every week. See, Brandt is a Southern Baptist preacher. Raine told me I need to go meet our new neighbors. Thanks, but no thanks. I didn’t have time for organized religion. Well, just FOUR days before Raine went into the coma, I happened to be at the bowling alley, and Brandt’s church was there having an outing. I got to meet him and was impressed, he wasn’t preachy at all. I was glad he was my neighbor. Well, he is the neighbor that came by to visit on that very awful day, August 21, 2003. I sat there as he offered words of comfort and thought to myself, “Boy I sure am glad I was lucky enough to have met him 4 days ago.”
Then the epiphany.
Then it all made sense.
Then I finally understood. There is no such thing as luck. There is no such thing as coincidence. God made SURE I had what I needed on that awful day. Nothing was done without God willing it to be so. Then I realized this very important thing.
If I hadn’t been through medical hell, I wouldn’t have had the strength to be there when Raine really needed me. Remember how my first wife left because she couldn’t handle it? Well, BECAUSE of my health, I had the strength to be a real husband. Then I looked back. The abuse in my childhood gave me the strength to survive the Crohn’s. See, God doesn’t punish, he allows bad things to happen to give us the tools we need to live.
The next five weeks I sat by her motionless body. Now I knew that she would live, in my guts. I just wasn’t sure what it would be like. But it was then that I began what I call my mission. I started talking with the families in the waiting rooms, offering them my story, handing out my red noses. Some of them asked me to talk to their family members in ICU. This I was glad to do. See, I have a very unique gift for inspiring the sick. When I tell them my story, it isn’t to gain sympathy, but to show them what I have overcome. I was told then to write a book. Well, the people I want to reach can’t afford self-help books. But most have access to the net.
But how to get people to pay attention to my message? I mean, my writings are great, but I needed to do something “profound.” So I decided that my childhood dream of being a professional bowler would serve God’s purpose. I can point to my life and say, look I was once disabled like you, but now I am a PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE! That is profound. Now I am getting fan mail from people I have never met, telling me the difference I have made in their lives.
One important ingredient has been my friendship with former professional wrestling champion (Ultimate) Warrior. He has helped me get my message out there. He is a good man and has made an enormous difference in my life. His positive mentoring helped turn me from a subsister to a motivator. He has offered his assistance in this endeavor.
I am not doing this for ME. I have been poor most of my life, yet God has seen to my needs, always. Sometimes at the last minute, but I have always had what I needed. I know that those needs will always be met as long as I keep Him the main focus.
No, I am not delusional. I do not think I am some Messiah that God has singled out for this. I am just one thread in the tapestry God wove at the beginning of time. But I would be a fool not to use these tools, for I think not living up to our potential would be an even bigger sin.
I have not been hospitalized since 2001 for the potassium. I had tried every medicine out there before now. It seems like the only thing that works is prednisone. However, I look at what is different from the years prior, when I was in the hospital every few months and now, when I am relatively healthy and I ask myself what is different. Dr. Heine and I both agree, the difference is Remicade. Oh, other things have helped a great deal; Ensure being a good alternative when I can’t eat, managing my pain responsibly, my sense of humor.
Again, my goal here is to educate and motivate. People with any disability need to realize that their dreams are still within their reach.
Oh, there is a happy ending. Raine is herself again. Just three weeks after waking up from the coma, she was discharged. Just three months after that, she was back to work full time. She will tell you that I am the big reason she got better. Well, I will tell you that she is the reason I keep pushing myself. For when I have doubts, she believes in me. Days I wake up in my own stool, she offers that kind touch and loving smile that make every day worth waking up for. Without my Rainebow, I am nothing. With her, I am “Sponge Daddy.”
Be well,
Sponge
08/30/04
