Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Inspired By…”

David Versus Goliath


So what is a person to do, when you are positive that you are being wronged, but your pepetrator is not only not your size, but so large in numbers, have infinite resources, and counts on you not to resist?

Much like my days as a child, I faced bullies every day.  I say bullies, because no one ever took me on one by one.  It always had to be a gang.  To this day, I still do not understand why.  I was tiny, I never fought back, I was no challenge.  I was an easy mark for even girls to come after me because I was raised never to retaliate.  Though it was clearly a moral reason as to how I was raised, a clear example of why not to retaliate can be seen in sports.  It is never the first guy to throw the punch that has been witnessed, but the one who throws back is the one to get caught.

My nine years of elementary and junior high school gang beatings accomplished two things.  The first, I have a ridiculous tolerance to pain.  The second, and just as important an issue, I no longer pick my battles, I fight everything.  I surrender to nothing, no matter what.  Neither is necessarily a good characteristic to have.  This behavior often alienates me, misrepresents who I am, and on occasion has resulted in threats of litigative action.

But then again, that negative experience had also prepared me for one of the biggest fights in my life, a battle with Hodgkin’s Disease, cancer.  I did not let it take away my spirit, my fight, my life.

But as I said, I no longer pick battles.  If I even sense that someone is being anything more than courteous with me, anything stronger than a recommendation, I immediately become defensefive.  And with too much time to think about the situation, it is likely that I may feel that instead of working with me, you are working against me.  No matter the size of the issue, if I sense no respect coming from you, I react as if you were one of my school yard bullies.  And I do not mess around either.  Granted, I do not physical, but I will resort to any other tactic to get you to leave me alone.  Some examples…

Imagine, you are a telephone solicitor or even just someone conducting a survey, you have literally just a few seconds to reconsider contacting me before you realize you “dialed a wrong number.”  It may have been the number you saw, or the robot dialed, but it was definitely the wrong call to make.  Every phone call from anyone other than family or friend has an ulterior motive, a strategy, and prepared for my “no.”  And it is the refusal to accept my “no” that sends me back into the “bully defense” mode.  The call is ended shortly after that begins.

Wendy and I bought a dog at a pet store (something we will never do again because with so many dogs that need homes, the last thing I ever want to do is support puppy mills who sell their dogs to pet stores).  When Pollo got real sick as a puppy, as in no breath, tongue out, eyes rolled, and carried him into the vet, as he came back out of the exam room on his own power and tail wagging, I thought I could help the vet by finding out information on his mom and dad to see if there were any cardiac issues.  Their simple refusal to even answer that simple request resulted in my unleashing the PA Department of Agriculture, the USDA, countless news agencies, and even The Peoples Court on them.  There was a good thing that came out of it.  Sadly we found out Pollo came from a puppy mill, but at least now that one was shut down because of all of the investigation.

If you are a manufacturer or retailer that will not back up the product you sell?  You are a bully.

Try to negotiate a labor contract through the media by printing a teacher’s salary publicly (meant to enrage the public?)  You are a bully.  Hence what began my politcal run for the local school board two years ago.

Of course I am a firm believer that a bully in school grows up to be a bully in adulthood.  Instead of the school playground, the environment is the workplace.  But the atmosphere is still the same, bully versus victim, bystanders, and people who do not want to get involved at all.  So in my current job, I spent the first four years fighting against my supervisor who routinely tried to get to work in certain ways, short cuts if you will.  Because I would not, he made things personal with me.  Everyone knew it, but just as bystanders on a playground, no one wants to get involved.  Eventually you take the work home with you, and family and friends no longer want to spend time with you.  But just as I did with my cancer, I survive everything I face and he moved on.

And there are more examples of when I have seen bullying take place in the adult world, most noticeably by our school board over the last few years.  The chances are pretty good that their behavior will show up.  I seem to have taken after a Stephen King character from Storm Of The Century, as I repeatedly quote “give me what I want, and I’ll go away.”  It is that originally posturing that is taken that puts me on the alert, it’s going to be rough.

And now, just as the three rivers flowing into Pittsburgh, I have a similar event occurring right now, unfortunately not as beautiful to watch, but just as dangerous.  Time will tell by the end of the week if I have three more things to deal with, all major.

character from Storm of the Century

A Rough Day (Again)


I do not hide it.  I wear my heart on my sleeve.  I will admit to being calm, cool, and collected in times of crisis, and it is extremely rare that an emotion will be seen from me.  Whether I am sad, angry, happy, intrigued, disgusted, trust me, I will let you know.

As a cancer survivor and cardiac patient, I have an appreciation for all things concerned with the world of medicine.  I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on television, but experience has taught me so much.  In all honesty, I should probably go back to college, and get a medical degree.  I cannot say with certainty as I was never a medical student, but one thing that cannot be taught is empathy.  But it is both my empathy and my experience right now that cause me to have a heavy heart, broken if you will.

For the second time in several years, I found myself in a situation of not just a caregiver, but also clinician.  For the second time, I was able to diagnose and issue that had been overlooked, or willingly ingnored.  Because of the empathy and care that I gave, I do not believe there was suffering, but the ending was still so hard to take.  I spent so much time, so much care, so much attention.  And I know it made a difference.  I could see it every day with improvement, EVERY DAY.

Then I am told to stop what I am doing, that it is not right.  It could cause problems with outside officials.  But the problem is, I was never told.  Not that it would make a difference to me though I would walk right up to the line of insubordination, I would never cross it.  The judgement from keeping me perform my job to the best of my ability and humanity would then fall on the individual enforcing this unfortunate political move.  But they had been given too much credibility because of where each of us rank in society.  I know this for a fact.

So to keep from being punished, which has never been an issue at home or school as a child, nor as an adult, I had to immediately cease my efforts, which still would not provide a certainty that I would not be punished.

Today, I lost him.  He is in a better place.  Everyone knew this day would come.  All I tried to do, and succeeded, was make it better for him.  And simply because someone above me did not like it, he lost that quality of care the last couple of days of his life.

This sucks.

The Waiting


Christmas Eve = the longest night in the world for me as a child, waiting for Santa Claus to come.

The night before Easter = the second longest night for me as a child, same reason as above, just for the Easter Bunny with my basket of chocolate.

The first day of school… ever.

Getting a drivers license… forever.

The end of school… forever.

Freedom to do what I want to do, whenever I want to do it.  I am still waiting.

Having to wait around the doctor’s office, just to be told that you have cancer.

Waiting to hear the words, “Your cancer is in remission.”

Waiting to reach the one year anniversary of your remission of cancer, and second year, fifth year, tenth year, twentieth year.

Now I am waiting to reach twenty-five years cured of my cancer.

Waiting for the paint to dry and the pot to boil.

Waiting to be approved to be adoptive parents.

Waiting for the sixteen hour non-stop flight to be over.

We can hear the children down the hallway.  What is taking so long to bring them to the conference room to be placed in our arms.

Waiting for daughter’s first steps.

Waiting in a dazed state to go to surgery for my first ever open heart surgery.

I hate sitting at home doing nothing.  I want to go back to work.  I still need time to heal.

Waiting for the new season of Newsroom on HBO.

My DVR has a pause button.  I can make the television wait for me.

Phone calls.  Can you hold please?

I have to wait several months to see a specialist.  They know what is wrong and time is of importance for best chance of survival.  A three month wait.

Waiting in the waiting room.  Then I wait so more in the exam room.

Scans and scopes, scans and scopes, scans and scopes.  Results pending.  More waiting.

I do not mind waiting for my daughters to grow up, graduate, get married, have children.

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