Saturday, March 18, 2017

The Darkest Summer


He sat on a bench watching the tableau that is Lava Hot Springs.  People from all over walked up the street carrying tubes for floating down the Portneuf River.  Others carried their tubes in trucks, while still others rode the flat bed shuttles.  But he was distracted, torn from the hustle of the small Idaho town and the crisis within his soul.

Two and a half years earlier he had been diagnosed with type one Diabetes, and this led to a prescription for insulin.  He was out of work at the time, but fortunately he received help from his doctor at the university's Diabetes center who gave him samples.  But then, the previous spring, the center informed him that they would no longer be able to provide the samples.

By now he had a job, but the health insurance plan had a large deductible which had to be satisfied before it would pay for prescriptions and most medical expenses.  With no way to pay for the insulin, he stopped taking it, and with that the darkness began to descend.

The symptoms of Diabetes include weight loss, itchy skin, and frequent trips to the restroom, among others.  But there are additional dangers for those who become insulin dependent.  Untreated type 1 diabetes can commonly lead to diabetic ketoacidosis.  Diabetic ketoacidosis results from a shortage of insulin; in response the body switches to burning fatty acids which produces acidic ketone bodies.

It had been almost three months since he last took his insulin, and the weight loss was beginning to show.  His mouth was usually dry in the morning and in the heat of the day he often felt weak.  Hence he sat on the bench watching the people and the shuttles move up and down the main drag of the resort town.

On top of his health, there were other issues.  It was good to have a job, but he worked in a call center where mandatory overtime was a fact of life.  In the past month and a half he had worked 28 ten hour shifts out of the last 30.  This would have been challenging enough, but the lack of insulin may have made him even more tired than he would been otherwise.  Dry mouth in the morning was another challenge when taking call after call.

A month earlier an old high school friend had unexpectedly passed away, and it affected him rather deeply.  He had met her his sophomore year and had instantly taken a liking to this sweet angel.  Later he would ask her to a dance and first she would say yes, but then she would cancel, which broke his heart.  A few months later they got together to talk about what hd really happened; it was a learning experience that made them better friends.  Now she was gone, taken by cancer, much too young.

Though he had not seen her in many years, he mourned her loss; it was a reminder that life is short and unpredictable.  The unpredictability took on new meaning in light of his inability to pay for the medicine he needed.  How much time did he have left?

The question uncovered another wound.  There was another old friend who, for reasons unknown, had shut him out.  "If thy brother hath ought against thee . . go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother."  But how can one be reconciled when the other refuses to communicate?  Waste no more time because you cannot know how much of it you really have.

The events of the last few months had left him feeling more and more isolated.  It was ironic that, as he spoke to strangers all day, five days a week on the phone, sometimes making brief connections, he felt he could not connect with those around him, or even with those to whom he should have been the closest.  An old friend was gone, and another had built a wall, leading to the building of other walls, but now he carried a secret that he felt he could not share with anyone.

Then there was the anger.  He had become angry for having been diagnosed with Diabetes.  He was angry that he had become dependent on a medication that he could not afford.  He was angry about a job that demanded so mush but gave so little.

And so he sat, watching the tableau of Lave Hot Springs, watching the world pass by.  He was still alive, but he was not really living.  His heart cried out, "what shall I do?"  But he already knew the answer, he just didn't like it.  He knew that he had to swallow his pride and ask his family for help.  He did not want to do it, because he resented the stones that had come with the bread the last time he had asked for help.  Additionally, it was one thing to ask for help when he was out of work, but now that he had a job, working that mandatory overtime, he felt it was expected of him to get by without help.

He knew what he had to do, but still he sat, watching the world go by.  Then a voice within said "Get up and live."  He did not react to it immediately, so it came again, more insistently, "Get up and live!"

So he got up, grabbed his camera and began to take pictures of the tableau that is Lava Hot Springs.  He walked up the street, getting shots of the folks carrying their tubes, of those using their own vehicles, and of those riding the shuttles.  Then he walked to the river to photograph the people as they rode their tubes through the rapids.

Get up and live.



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