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April Fools 2009

Wednesday, Apr. 01, 2009 - 12:33 a.m.

I was thinking of doing something nutso today because April First is my very favorite day in the entirety of my existence, but instead, I think I'll share one of the more personal reasons it's such a special day for me.

When I graduated from high school in 1982, I was seventeen years of age. About a week after graduation, at the behest of one of my best girlfriends in my senior year, Lisa Brownlee, I went on a blind date with her older brother Michael, who was home on leave from the Navy. He'd brought his friend Walt with him, and she and I and he and he all went to Sacramento for dinner.

There are very few moments in a person's life when they actually think life makes complete sense, and almost none of them ever happen to us before we're of age.

But upon meeting and enjoying and knowing and falling in love with Michael? I thought my life made about as much sense as it was ever likely to make. Now, at the time, I was still seventeen, so Things That Made Sense at that time were drastically different today than they are now. While he trained in Idaho, Mike would drive down to California and we would spend as much time together as possible. Late in the summer, a bunch of us including Mike's little brother Alan all piled into the car and went to Great America for a day.

We grew closer, and even though there were a couple of very bad rough spots that do not bear repeating, we worked things out. The final time he came to California was right before he was going to be transferred to New London, Connecticut. Michael wanted me to come with him, but I said if he wanted that to happen right away, he had to go talk to my parents and see if they would give their consent to allow us to be married.

So he did. I have seen regular people do brave things, but very few things have impressed me with the magnitude of nobility in actions or bearing than sitting next to Michael on the couch, and listening to him ask my father for my hand in marriage.

The Navy will give us a chance to see the world. Brin isn't like anybody else I have ever met. We love each other. I promise to be good to her. I know we're young, but let us do this. Please let me marry your daughter.

And in the tradition of parents with seventeen year old daughters the world over -- they told us no.

The stress of the attempt, its failure, and the realization that I was going to be three thousand miles away from the one person I wanted to be with more than anyone took its toll -- and I got sick. Very sick.

I went to bed in October of 1982 and didn't get up again until February of 1983. This is almost quite literally true. The few times I was able to get out of bed and get showered and dressed, I headed to the library to start reading about Connecticut, and to look at the newspapers there at the library in hopes of finding a job of some sort so I could save up money and head east when I turned eighteen.

But the illness increased its grip on me as the winter months passed. The illness I had was a stress / autoimmune disorder called ulcerative colitis. Usually, people under stress develop ulcers in their stomach. With ulcerative colitis, the ulcers form in the large intestine instead -- and the material passing over the open sores causes anemia that is almost impossible to treat without surgical means.

I was in the hospital from February 1st to February 18th, 1983. I was put on a program of Prednisone to counteract the symptoms, and Azulfadine to bolster my immune system. I felt better, but when I got home from the hospital -- my room was different.

Most of my correspondence and postcards and souvenirs from Michael were gone. Not everything, but a lot.

I later found out, like, years and years after I'd moved away from home, that my parents had intercepted correspondence from him and to him, after I turned eighteen. They just decided that Michael was obviously the source of my stress and disappointment and so they 'disappeared' him.

But when I did get out of the hospital in February, I had been feeling much better than I had all the previous winter months, so I went to the mall and got my hair cut and styled for the first time in an entire quarter -- and while I was there, I saw a friend of mine from High School, Andy Harrison. He asked what I'd been up to lately, and I told him I had just gotten out of the hospital, and he said he hoped I was doing better and would I like to go to a dance with him sometime? I'd known Andy for years as a friend, so I thought this would be nice.

During a rainy night's drive back from the dance -- we were in an auto accident.

I smashed the lower left section of my face on his dashboard, losing and loosening many teeth. I was very lucky it wasn't any worse than it was -- but unfortunately, my ulcerative colitis returned with a vengeance, and no amount of treatment made it go away again.

Worldwide, ulcerative colitis kills three out of every four people who get it.

I was in the hospital yet again from March 17th to April 14th, 1983.

During my stay, I went to code once, which is not *quite* a flatline, but I wouldn't still be here if people hadn't come running.

I also had life-saving surgery.

A colectomy and ileostomy was performed on me on April 1, 1983.

And as I recuperated, I had the strength to do two things. 1. Play a really great arcade game called Crystal Castles, a vintage pristine machine of which is now sitting in Old Buddy Dave's living room, and 2. Sing with one of Alan Brownlee's first bands. I had remained in touch with Lisa throughout my illness, because her boyfriend's mother was a nursing teacher and had herded several classes (and former classmantes of mine) past my bedside to show them what an ostomy pouch looked like or something -- and Lisa had said Alan was looking for a vocalist, and when I was feeling better, to get in touch with him.

My eighteenth birthday came and went on April 7th, 1983, and because I was in the ICU, the candles on my cake could not be ignited.

And obviously my plans to go to Connecticut had changed as well. I had heard through the grapevine that Michael had started seeing somebody, which was okay with me when I heard about it -- and that Andy fellow and I mistook our foxhole romance for something other than what it was, and got married. This didn't work out for various reasons, and life went on for me and Michael, and Alan, and Andrew.

I was so different after my surgery -- I thought of all the things I've done, and good people I've encountered, and knowledge I've acquired.

I would have missed all of that if I'd died from ulcerative colitis in 1983.

And the do-over day for me was and is and always will be April First.

---

It's 2009 now. I am where I'm supposed to be in my life -- married to the amazingly patient John McLaughlin, with friendship and love from Old Buddy Dave and Jamie Lord --

And guess who else!!!!??? Go on, GUESS!

Over on Facebook -- I am now friends with Michael Brownlee, who is married and settled with a beautiful wife and some gorgeous kids -- and who treats me with civility even though our parting was so unpleasant when I was a teenager.

I am currently singing again for Alan, which is an experience I'm still half-expecting to wake up from -- and Lisa and I are in touch and speaking as if no time has passed.

---

Happy twenty-sixth April First to me!!!

I have no regrets about any of my life's decisions especially since the surgery, and gee whiz, it's a real pity Mom and Dad can't see all the niceness and family-like treatment emanating from the Brownlee camp.

And to think, there was a point in my life where my parents actually thought I'd have to be of a certain age to appreciate this kind of thing.

I'm still not quite sure why I'm still on this side of the dirt myself, but at least I have come to understand this much -- love is ageless.

---

Finally, let me share one of my favorite quotes with you all, and say thank you for reading.

When I stand before thee at the day's end, thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.

-- Rabindranath Tagore

That's it. Have a good Wednesday.

---

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