showing up
I was at the airport yesterday morning, waiting to catch a flight to DC for the annual meeting of the American Academy of Religion, when Dr. Iqbal called. She had seen the CT-scan, and it confirmed that cancerous cells were scattered throughout my abdomen and chest. With chemotherapy and good living, I could possibly survive this for up to four years, but, barring something utterly unusual, there are no longer two possible outcomes.
Originally, my trip was to include four weeks in Philadelphia leading up to the convention. The day before I was to leave, I decided to stick around long enough for a biopsy. Then, three days before my second departure date, I got the biopsy results back and decided to cut out the Philadelphia segment altogether. Now I was on the phone with Karla, telling her the news and deciding whether to miss the convention as well.
Hard to categorize what goes into a decision like this: Of course I'm not going to Washington, I just found out I'm dying. I'm scheduled to meet with the man who wants to publish my dissertation, and I'd be a fool to back out of that. I just want to be with Karla right now. My trip has been funded by the National Association of Baptist Professors of Religion, and if I don't show up I'll feel obliged to reimburse them for the travel stipend. I need to think about what life could look like over the next couple of years, and the connections I make at this convention play a role in that. Karla needs me to be with her tonight. She says she wants me to go. I've always been able to trust Karla to tell me whether she needs me or not, and right now she says she'll be okay. If the tables were turned, and Karla canceled a trip because she thought I needed her to, that would bother me a lot. What kind of jackass drops news like this on his wife and then abandons her for four nights? We just bought 2 new shirts and ties for the convention; it would be a shame not to wear them.
A book I'm reading quotes a one-hundred-year-old grocery clerk in San Francisco: "You stop showing up for stuff, things begin to fall apart."
So here I am in Washington, having a mostly good weekend, interspersed with sad phonecalls and the recurrent challenge of determining whether to sidestep questions about what's happening in my life or just answer them directly.
It's about 45 degrees and the cold air on my face is exhilerating. Cirque du soleil is in town, and its music seeps out of its tent and creates an energetic background hum. At this moment, it feels good to be alive.
posted by scott becker @ 4:49 PM
14 Comments:
Thank you for sharing these thoughts. Of course you had to go to DC. Of course you had to be at home with Karla. I know that it was an extremely difficult decision. And I belive that the two of you made the wisest one. I agree with the character you read. We do have to continue to show up. Looking forward to seeing you at Christmas. Love you, Mom
From Mom: Hey Sweetheart (This time I identified myself first because I didn't want you to get into trouble with an unidentified entity calling you Sweetheart) This may not be the appropriate venue for this, so you may fuss at me later. Just in the event that you and Karla have been wondering what to do for Christmas for your many sets of parents . . . Have a protrait taken. We all know what chemo does. And right now, you look soooo good. We will get plenty of pictures later with no hair. This is another "Show Up" opportunity. Love you, Mom
Hi Scott, Look what the internet can do. If nothing else, depending on how the cold weather affects your appetite for cold treats, you should take some time in Philly to find a gourmet gelato shop called Capogiro Gelato a couple blocks south of City Hall. Had a grafefruit+Campari gelato there in 2005 that was incredible. If you don't know what Campari is ... well then google it! Hopefully it fits into your definition of good living (it sure does mine).
We're all praying for you at Bethany. See you in a couple of days.
Yours, Ben
Of course I just made the comment about a place in Philly when you're actually in Washington. For some reason I was thinking those two were close. Well, scratch that idea but hopefully you can find something close as good in town before your flight home ... Yours, Ben
PS: Is there another convention in Philly that I'm getting this messed up with??? Ugh ...
Mr. Becker,
Very sorry to hear about your diagnosis. My wife was diagnosed in May, 2001, with a 6-inch cholangiocarcinoma in her liver. But: she's still alive, and the cancer is showing up only in sporadic metastases that are being cleaned up as they show up. She's been through a lot (three liver surgeries, three lung surgeries, 3 years of chemo, one brief bout of radiation, and RF ablation), but she is able to live a normal life and work, feels fine, and is going to be around for quite a while longer, God willing.
The key is not giving up, and finding the absolute best doctors you can possibly find--and to do whatever it takes, to be as aggressive as humanly possible, in fighting the disease. We were fortunate to find two of the top five or so liver surgeons in the world, and also to find the oncologist who very likely has had the most success in the world with cholangio and pancreatic cancer.
I don't want to plaster their names all over a blog and invite spam to their doorsteps, but if you want to drop me a line (rmt at umcs dot maine dot edu), I'll be happy to give you contact information. Don't give up -- fight the thing for all you're worth, and good luck.
Scott,
Damn it! Okay I had to say that. I'd like to say something encouraging, but fear it would come out platitudinous. So, I'll just say "keep showing up." As Woody Allen says, "80% of life is just showing up." If you show up enough, you defy the "fell clutch of circumstance."
My thoughts and prayers are very much with you and Karla. I hope you feel surrounded and upheld, and I look forward to many more years of playing cards and seeing bad movies with you guys!
Love,
Deb
Scott, it's heartbreaking to read these updates, but somewhat less so because you seem so accepting of your apparent fate. I'm wondering whether you went through a "Dammit, this isn't fair!" stage at some point, as most of us would if we were in your shoes. Perhaps that's a subject for a future post?
No.
Just no.
Hey Sweetheart - this isn't your Mom, although we love you almost as much. This is crappy news, but we won't let you go without a fight. Susan was with your lovely bride tonight, and we - like hundreds of others - hope to see you in the next few days. We love you, we love you, we love you. --Tom et al
Well, I don't know what to say and yet I do not want to continue to read without offering some response.
The word ringing in my mind is "Gideon!". Is this from God or a false faith on my part? I pray that He will conquer this cancer, though everything we are told by man says that it is not possible.
I love you, Scott, and look forward to seeing you in a few days - wouldn't miss it, even if this cancer stuff was not an issue!
Scott & Karla,
I'm not sure what to say other than we're praying for you guys, and even then it's hard to know exactly how to pray.
I'm so bummed that we'll miss seeing you over Thanksgiving - we'll be with my family in Walla Walla.
Thanks for keeping a blog/journal and allowing us to share in your journey.
Margaret & Jeremy
Aw man, bummer, total bummer. You and Karla are in our thoughts and prayers. -- Lars & Allie
Hi Scott,
I'm so glad that I never had my email address removed from the Poiema list, although I moved away from Seattle five years ago, because otherwise I would never have known about your blog. I am sad that you and Karla have to go through this, but there will be prayers going up for you from central Virginia too, and I hope that helps in some small way.
I was at the AAR this weekend (I bailed early for Thanksgiving), and I had vaguely thought I might see you there. Now I really wish I had. If you're ever in the general mid-Atlantic area, drop me a line and we can get together for coffee or something (my email's in my blogger profile). My husband (!) and I have friends in several eastern cities (including Philadelphia) we can always use an excuse to visit.
I'm glad you have a blog, because you're a very gifted and sensitive writer (and preacher) and I know I'm going to enjoy reading it.
Juliet Crawford
"He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."
This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver.
She called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities.
Thinking about God holding us in such a hot spot she thought again about the verse that says: "He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver."
She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.
The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?" He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy -- when I see my image in it."
We love you VERY much.
Mark & Kathleen Davis
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