Extraordinary

All week long, I’ve been struggling to come up with a topic to write about.  This is only my third blog and I’m having trouble already?  Pathetic, I know. 

I had initially said that I’d blog about writing, book stuff, and everyday stuff.  Although I always try to do what I say I’m going to do, sometimes I can’t.  Well, I could, I guess, but right now I don’t want to.  When I come across something that interests or inspires me, I gotta go with it.  Today, I was inspired by a post I saw on Facebook.  So instead of writing about something everyday/ordinary, I’m going to write about something extraordinary.

The post I saw was a cartoon.  I would put it up here, but I don’t know how all that copyright stuff works and I’m not trying to break any copyright laws, so I’ll just explain it.  It was two people riding on a bus that was traveling on a mountain road.  One guy was sitting in a seat on the side of the bus where the windows were facing a mountain, so the view was just one big wall of rock.  He was looking out of his window and he looked absolutely miserable.  The other guy was sitting in a seat across the aisle from the miserable guy.  He was enjoying the view from his seat – a nice view of the surrounding mountains and valleys – and he looked happy.  There were plenty of empty seats on the side with the nice view, but miserable guy chose to sit on the side with the rock view.  The caption said, “Every single day you make a choice.”

Now, before anyone gets riled up and mad at me, please know that I understand that some people suffer from depression and I feel for them – depression is a horrible thing.  Clinical depression is not what I’m talking about, here.  I’m talking about mentally healthy people who consistently choose to look at the bad rather than trying to see the good, which was the gist of the cartoon.  It had a wonderful message, but it wasn’t the cartoon itself that inspired me; it was the person who posted it…my cousin, Russ.

Russ is in his forties.  In his late twenties, he was diagnosed with cancer.  He fought it and it went into remission, but then it came back.  It came back not just once, twice, or even three times.  Like those annoying door-to-door salespeople that just won’t take no for an answer, it keeps coming back.  This last time makes nine times.  This week, he’ll go get blood work done to see if it’s in remission.  So, if you’re the praying sort, feel free to pray for that mess to be gone and stay gone.

Throughout the 20+ years that Russ has been battling cancer, he’s somehow managed to do some extraordinary things that very few healthy people I know have accomplished.  He opened and ran his own restaurant for twelve years.  I’ve been there several times.  The food was out of this world and the restaurant was gorgeous.  He helped raise two boys who he met through church when they were just little guys.  Both boys grew into young men that any parent would be proud of.  In fact, the youngest just left for boot camp.  Russ has always helped his parents, his family, his friends, and even helps complete strangers.  He’s a giver, plain and simple.  Every incredible thing he has done, was done while not only going through chemo treatments, but also while dealing with the types of difficulties that we all go through at one time or another.

About a month ago, I got an email from his mom, my Aunt Betty, letting me know that he’d had his second heart attack, was in the hospital, and was scheduled to get triple-bypass surgery that Monday.  Surprisingly, he wanted visitors, so my sister and I drove to Richmond to see him.  I expected to walk into his room and find him lying quietly in his bed.  Normally, you’d find someone in need of a triple-bypass resting, and trying to avoid any type of unnecessary excitement.  Not Russ – he was sitting up, joking and talking.  And, as usual, he was concerned with everyone else’s welfare (making sure we all had a place to sit). We stayed for an hour or two and the whole time we were there, people were coming and going.  At one point in time, there must have been ten people crowded up in there (which I think may have been against the rules, but the nurse pretended not to notice).  You would have thought the hospital was giving away free wings and beer that day.  Who knows how many people showed up after we left.

The number of visitors at the hospital tells you a little about what kind of person Russ is.  The guy’s got a heart of gold and honestly, I’ve never seen him in a bad mood.  On top of that, he’s hilarious, so it’s not hard to see why people are drawn to him.  I’ve been around him during sad times, and because he’s just naturally funny, I almost forgot I was sad.  When you’re around him, you just feel good.

I was happy to hear from Aunt Betty that Russ’s surgery went well.  He is currently at home recovering.  They cracked his sternum to get to his heart (OUCH), so he’s in a lot of pain but that doesn’t stop him from getting on Facebook and posting funny memes, funny videos, and inspirational posts.  When I saw the bus cartoon he posted, I wondered how on earth someone who has been dealt so many crappy hands is able to stay so positive.  If I stub my toe, I’m whining about it ten minutes later, so why, after nine rounds of cancer and two heart attacks, is he so freakin’ happy all of the time?  I decided that instead of wondering, I would just ask him.  I did, and here’s what he said:

Ok, this is sort of how I think.  Life is going to throw stuff your way.  You can choose to be a victim of life or a student of life…bitch and moan about everything that comes your way, or learn from it.  Go into every bad experience as a learning experience…a new adventure.  I won’t go as far as to say ‘excitement’, but sometimes it can be exciting.”

A student of life.”  I love it, and from now on, instead of throwing myself on the floor and having an adult-sized tantrum when things aren’t going my way, I’ll say, “I’m a student of life,” out loud, and repeatedly, until I feel better.  (FYI: I don’t really throw myself on the floor when I’m upset, but I will admit to uttering a few cuss words here and there.)

Like everyone, I’ve had my share of not-so-great stuff.  But for the most part, I’ve had a pretty easy go of it, especially when it comes to my health.  And because I’ve never had to have chemo or have my sternum busted wide open, it’s easy to walk around with a little skip in my step.

I think that when the bus is traveling merrily down the road, the choice to sit in the seat with a nice view is really kind of a no-brainer – a choice that any ordinary person would make.  But when the bus appears to be heading off the edge of the mountain, and the view has changed from nice to terrifying, only an extraordinary person would stay in that seat and continue to enjoy the ride. 

The point of all this isn’t to try to chastise anyone for the way they feel when things go south.  We’re all human and we can’t be happy 24/7.  I get it.  The point is to share my cousin’s philosophy:  Choose to be a student of life and choose the seat with the nice view.  Choose to think like Russ, who in my opinion, is nothing less than extraordinary.

P.S.  I asked Russ for permission to write about this, and he gave me the okay to do so.  The only thing he asked was that I mention that he’s got 3 adorable, sweet kittens that need good homes, if anyone is interested.  Imagine that – he can’t even lift a gallon of milk, yet he’s worried about finding good homes for the kittens.  Yep, that’s Russ.