Bass Doctor

Holidays...

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 19:35:00 +0000

I haven't posted in a while due to mainly apathy and things like Twitter and Facebook being much more convenient and less time consuming. But I know there are about 3 people out there reading this, so I should probably update it every week, so I don't have Mickey Mouse on the top of my blog forever.

So Thanksgiving is over and Christmas season is upon us and Adrianne and I are struggling through as well as we can. It's strange not looking foreward to decorating the Christmas tree or hanging stockings this year. In some way it gives me the ability to focus more on the real meaning of Christmas rather than all the nostalgia wrapped up in the American traditions of Christmas.

The three fingered bass player

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 04:42:00 +0000

This weekend I had a great time playing for the worship service at the Grove with my friends Scott, Adam, Mike and Carolee. We have so much fun musically and I really could feel God working through us this weekend. Maybe it was just being closer to the front of the stage where I can feel the energy of what's going on in the room. Hopefully my "bass player face" was not too distracting to anybody this weekend.

What probably nobody but the band and my wife knew is that my 5th finger (pinkie) was not working. While training for this weekend's Redlands Triathlon (I know I'm crazy but that's for another post) I developed Ulnar Nerve Palsy while doing a 22 mile training ride. Now for some real bass players like this one and this one that may not be a big deal, but I learned how to play upright bass by using my pinkie a lot. It was kind of weird trying to re-learn my routine "go to bass lines" while feeling like I had a carrot tied to the end of my hand. To make matters worse, we had a gig at Coffee Depot at the plaza with Quick Before Sinking on Saturday night and my injury rendered me helpless to play my upright bass due to needing the reach of the pinkie to get to the wider note spacing and longer scale of the instrument. (I just realized that I think this paragraph wins the award for most links on my blog)

Well things are slowly improving this week as I'm adjusting to my finger and I'm looking forward to finishing my first triathlon. My father-in-law Charlie has been excited about getting Adrianne and I involved in triathlons since he caught the triathlon bug 5 years ago or so. He's an amazing guy and is so passionate about the sport. He is going to be competing with us at the age of 64 and I don't think I can beat him even though I am 30 years his junior. My swimming technique is best described by the name of my band. Flap your arms quick before sinking, so I'm just hoping I don't drown. Wish me luck.

Running...

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 02:02:00 +0000

It's been a while since I've posted. It's been a little bit of complacency and a lot of doing other things including running a lot. It feels good to get the blood pumping again. I am working towards getting my 5k time down to the respectable 21 minutes I was running 1 year ago right now. Three weeks ago I competed in a team relay with my wife and a friend in the LA Triathlon. I ran the 5k on zero training in 30:36 which would have been an easy training run last year - pathetic. Needless to say, it will take a little work.

Today at the Grove we had guest preacher Bryan Loritts, an amazing speaker with an incredible gift to inspire with his stories and beautiful communication style. I still remember his message from over a year ago about Wilbur Wilberforce and needing to go and be a light in our own workplace and through our own circumstances to stand up for those who are oppressed.

Today he spoke on 1 Corinthians 9:24-27 on finishing the race of life well. He used the analogy of a marathon and spoke of "the wall". Anyone who has run a marathon will probably tell you that if they give it their all there is a time - usually about 20 miles - when you want to quit. All of the glycogen (the fuel used by your muscles for exercise) in your body is spent and you literally have to "dig deep" to finish. Some people are able to train hard enough to get through this moment, but if you are running to be competitive and not just to finish you will hit the wall, it is just a matter of whether you can push through it mentally and physically or if you will perform a "death march" to the finish line.

In June 2007 I ran my only marathon the Rock and Roll Marathon in San Diego. Although I did not compete in this race to win, I am competitive with myself. I had a goal to finish in less than 4 hours. I was on pace through 18 miles and remember seeing my brother and sister in law at mile 18 and thinking "if I can keep this pace for 8 more miles I will finish right at 4 hours." Unfortunately, I did not meet my goal. Despite missing my time by a few minutes, I distinctly remember three moments from those last 8 miles.

First was trying to climb a little bridge at mile 20 which seemed like a mountain at that time. I remember having the overwhelming urge to stop. I just told myself to push through it and it would all be over soon.

Second was hitting mile 22 and seeing my father-in-law Charlie. He ran with me for the next mile or so and I remember just talking with him and telling him how much it meant to have him run with me. As I left him behind to finish the last 3 miles the band was playing "In the name of Love." One of my favorite U2 songs - just a surreal moment. I still get chills thinking about it.

The final memory I have is the last mile. The marathon finishes in the Marine Corps Recruit Depot and I remember seeing the marine guarding the entrance with his M16 and realizing I have less than 1 mile to finish the race. My pace quickened and the last mile didn't hurt any more. I remember looking into people's faces in the crowd and just smiling realizing it was finally over.

The finish line is an incredible place. I know the feeling of finishing strong and it feels like you are on a cloud (or perhaps it's just the low blood sugar). It is worth the pain you endure. My prayer is that I can finish strong in the race of life. I'm not sure if I've hit the wall or not. Maybe losing Karissa is just a little hill and the worst is yet to come. Every time I think that life can't get worse I find out it can. I need people to come beside me and run with me. I know in my heart God has an incredible finish line for Adrianne and I. My goal is to keep pressing forward even though it hurts.

We are the champions!

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 21:46:00 +0000

I got a call last week from my buddy Josh to invite me to play in the Grove Shoot-out and of course I said yes. Even though I had to work late last night, I found out that I had the most sleep of all of my team which was 4 hours. Josh had put together a stellar team of Mike Lance and his other friend Mike (don't know his last name). Our team managed to shoot an 11 under par 59, which was just enough to win the tournament in a tie-breaker. Tom Lance's team of course had the low score, but they had a pro so it didn't count. I had an incredible time and I played pretty well which was a bonus. My blogging has been sparse lately. I've been worn out. I will get back to it next week. Stay tuned.

Firsts and lasts

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 06:29:00 +0000

I love playing golf. It's a perfect game for me because it does not require me to find someone to play with. I'm a natural introvert and never really good at getting a bunch of people to play sports with me. As a kid, I spent hours playing baseball in the front yard by myself. My friends on my street didn't wake up until noon and I would just hit the ball as far as I could and chase the ball around the yard. The neighbors probably thought I was psychotic, playing with my imaginary friends. When I finally discovered golf in medical school, I realized you could hit the ball over and over again and not chase it. It's called a driving range.

I just realized I haven't played a round of golf since the day before my daughter Karissa passed away. That was just 8 weeks ago. I made a tee time to play with my father-in-law tomorrow morning. He's been taking golf lessons and had been looking forward to playing with me with his new and improved swing. It seems like there's more and more of these firsts that are happening, and yet there are more to come that I'm not looking forward to. Of course it's a normal part of getting back to living life after tragedy. As a doctor I have spent many nights memorizing the stages of grief, learning the DSM-IV classifications for grief, learning how to treat it with medication and listening and trying and put myself in the shoes of people who are going through the death of a loved one. I know it's normal to commemorate these little milestones. It's just hard to have it happen to you. It's more difficult to watch it happen to your spouse.

Time usually passes quickly for me. I normally look at the calendar with amazement as it seems like months just pass me by. For some reason, the last time I played golf seems like 2 years ago. I don't know what it is but it seems like time has just slowed to a standstill. It makes me sad to think the memory of that last day of her life is passing away as well. I've been sitting here trying to remember everything I can about that day. What follows is the stream of consciousness that came out of my brain as I was remembering as much of that day as I could.

I remember taking Karissa to her special preschool that morning, excited to play golf for the last time before I had to get back to work after vacation. I took her backpack and her lunch box and set them on the counter, she just started playing with the other kids unaware that I was leaving. She never was much for separation anxiety. I walked out the door and saw another parent walking in and smiled. I played at a new course in Lake Elsinore that day. I don't remember what I scored, but remember needing a par to shoot 39 on the back nine. Instead I quadruple bogeyed and was cussing at myself. I had a tuna sandwich at the clubhouse (a big deal because they didn't have any vegetarian food). I remember picking Karissa up at preschool and she had been changed out of her clothes because her clothes got wet. She played in the water her last day of life. She loved the water. She was tired on the way home, staring out the window, but didn't sleep. Adrianne was so excited to see her when we got home. It was the first time she had been to school in 10 days and Adrianne always felt uncomfortable being that far away from her. She was kind of disappointed that Karissa was in somebody else’s baggy clothes. Adrianne just loved having Karissa in cute clothes and I must admit these were pretty ugly, but I didn't really notice. I was worn out and sat at the computer reading the news about the Tour de France which had just started and caught up on my lab results and x-ray reports from the last 10 days so I wouldn't have to do it at work in the morning. I know Karissa had a bath that night, but I don't remember much else. I was kind of in my own world. Adrianne gave Karissa her medicine and I remember sitting at the computer and hearing screaming downstairs. I ran down and Karissa had put a bottle cap in her mouth and Adrianne couldn't get it out. Adrianne was frantic and said she's going to "choke to death." It seemed kind of an over-dramatic reaction at the time. I pulled open Karissa's mouth and removed the cap and Karissa and Adrianne calmed down. Karissa went to bed at 8 PM or so and woke up at 10 PM babbling for a few minutes and fell back a sleep just as quickly. Adrianne went to bed and I stayed up reading. When I went to bed at 1 AM, Adrianne was having a hard time sleeping and went in to check on Karissa, who was sleeping peacefully. I fell asleep listening to Mike Gallagher speaking about the emotions and difficulty of doing his first radio show after his wife passed away on June 29, 2008. That's the last moment of my life that I remember my daughter alive.

I Heart Barack Obama

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 03:20:00 +0000

A year ago I told my friends at work I thought Barack Obama would be the next president and they all thought I was crazy. Remember Hillary was the inevitable candidate and Rudy Giuliani was the favorite among GOP circles. That was back when John McCain was polling at 10% nationally among Republicans. I watched an Obama campaign speech and remember how he was so inspiring and was such a charismatic speaker. Well I watched tonight's speech and he hasn't lost his ability to inspire. Now, as most of you know, I don't agree with him much in terms of policy, but I must admit I wish I did. I love the idea of an African American president simply because it shows how far we have come in this country. It gives me chills to see him speaking as a presidential nominee just 45 years removed from Martin Luther King's famous "I have a dream" speech.

Although I disagree with his political prescriptions, I would be proud to have Barack Obama as my President. I just don't believe in calling people ridiculous names and assigning evil motives to all politicians who disagree with me. One year ago in September, I saw Bill Clinton leaving our hotel in Chicago while I was preparing to run the Chicago Half Marathon. I remember waving at him and thinking how cool it would be to tell my daughter that she once was just a few feet from President Clinton. In the end as different as our philosophies are, we are all still Americans and most importantly humans, created and loved by God our Creator. I sometimes get the feeling that many Democrats literally believe that George Bush is evil and wants to eat your children. The campaign ad from John McCain today which congratulated Obama on the nomination, is the tone I wish could be used more often in our political discourse. Oh well, I'm back to watching re-runs of the speech with tears in my eyes.

Thanks

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 06:49:00 +0000

Well all of us had a great time at Dos Lagos. The venue was definitely the biggest we've played as a trio and we were excited to see so many people there. I stole this photo from Bill's photo blog. Bill is a great bass player in his own right and I have to admit I get a little nervous playing in front of other bass players unless I'm playing Dvorak 9th Symphony and then good luck keeping up with me.

Afterwards the band had a fun dinner with our wives at TAPS and closed the place down. It was just awesome to spend time with our friends outside of the musical and church realm. Since Karissa passed away we have really felt the love and prayers of our friends and family. From the fellowship around dinner tables, to meals showing up on our front door, to sitting on the front porch with us laughing and crying into the night, to pedicures and spa dates, to working in the yard, to hundreds of cards and conversations in the hallway at church and work, Adrianne and I appreciate it all.

To everyone who is helping us through this difficult time. If we haven't said it to you and you read this, thank you. You don't know how much it means to us.

In 25 hours...

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 00:35:00 +0000

The moment we've all been waiting for. All of the Inland Empire will finally be exposed to the incredible sound that is QBS @ Dos Lagos Amphitheater. On Friday August 22, 2008 at 7:00 pm, musical history will be made. Don't miss it! I think all of you know what to do. Now make it happen.

By the way, I love this montage of pictures especially mine because I look like I'm sitting on the toilet with my bass after eating too much sushi. Unfortunately Jon didn't get the famous "orgasm" face which my sister loves to tease me about. Oh well next time.

First rule in new social situations: Never talk about religion or politics...

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 04:07:00 +0000

OK so I'm going to start breaking the rules here. Something has been on my mind since I started this whole facebook and blogging thing a week ago, which was probably why it took me so long to start doing it in the first place. One of the first questions asked on facebook.com is your political views. I actually wrestled with what to write there for about 10 minutes. I had (in no particular order) Republican, Libertarian leaning Republican, Conservative, Classic Liberal - deleted and re-written several times before just settling on Libertarian. Now understand that I am a lifelong Republican, but not in the way most people think of Republicans. I am definitely not a lock-step stereotypical right wing evangelical who tries to paint all Democrats as the anti-christ. I hesitated writing anything because I knew somebody would start reading about Libertarian philosophy on Wikipedia and I worried they would attribute all of these views to me out of context. I find that I am sometimes too hesitant to let people know what I really think because it seems so easy to misconstrue the true meaning of words on a computer screen. It is all too tempting to paint political viewpoints with broad stereotypes and I don't like making enemies.My sister knows better than anyone how I do not like to get into arguments. Much like my buddy Adam, I am a "lover not a fighter" when it comes to these political discussions.

People who know me know I am politically conservative. I would say over half of my close friends are politically liberal (that's what happens when you're a musician) and I have really enjoyed the dialogue about politics with my friends lately. Over the past year or so through trying to better understand my friends' views, I have spent a lot of time reading blogs and books about all things "emergent" and liberal. From Anne Lamott to Donald Miller to Rob Bell to Dan Kimball, I have been truly challenged and fascinated by their perspectives. I was surprised at how much I agree with many of the themes of these authors, but dismayed because there seems to be a misconception that these ideas are incongruent with having a politically conservative viewpoint. There seems to be an underlying current of disdain for conservatives and much of it is probably deserved. My liberal friends are, quite admirably, concerned with equality, helping the "least of these" and "social justice." I think at the most basic level as Christians we are all called to be personally liberal in this sense. These ideals are undeniable in Scripture. Unfortunately, the devil is in the details.

The problem becomes when we are told at the point of a gun that government should mandate social justice by ever increasing taxation, government regulation and government spending. See I believe God gives us free will to make these choices willingly. It is not the government's job to force these ideals on the citizen. There is no other choice in a free society but to allow the freedom to make these "liberal" choices with our time, money and talents. I have definitely been guilty of falling short of God's will in this manner, and I continually strive to be more focused on His goals for my resources than my own selfish plans. However, to mandate my obedience to God's plan by government fiat defeats the purpose of willing personal sacrifice.

So why did I settle on Libertarian in my facebook profile? Despite the labels that get thrown around about libertarian philosophy as being selfish and greedy, at the heart of the philosophy is the principle of liberty -- liberty to make good or bad choices with our time, money and talents. It mirrors the free will I believe God gives each of us to choose to follow Him. I guess I'm pretty fed up with both parties right now. Neither conservative “hot button” issues nor liberal causes excite me at this point as they are both used to manipulate the masses, and often to take away freedom and liberty. I don't believe government is necessarily the answer to what ails the world in general or America in particular. I think God calls us to be in community with believers and focused on bringing the broken and hurting and fallen people into relationship with Him. It is within this bond of community that I believe powerful work will be done to change the world. And that is neither liberal nor conservative.

Official Stew Made photos

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 03:42:00 +0000

Just a couple quick "official" photos from the man himself. Let me tell you this bass is just awesome. Playing it for the first time today it was so smooth. Anyhow I need to get back to draining abscesses and trying to figure out why a 35 year old male would be vomiting blood. Oh the joys of being a bass doctor.

Bass fishing

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 08:33:00 +0000

So I was thinking I might get a few more people to read this thing if I could get some bass fishermen to start finding me through Google. Unfortunately I have never gone fishing, much less bass fishing so I figured I'd give a quick preview of the new addition to my bass family. It's kinda like bass fishing only more expensive and doesn't smell as bad. I am now the proud owner of a Custom Stew Made Mark Ashley Signature J-5. It has been 5 months in the planning and building stages and I will be debuting this beauty at the Grove this weekend. In case you are considering asking Dave Stewart to build a guitar I really highly recommend him as he pays so much attention to every detail and really knows his stuff. On top of building great guitars he takes all my x-rays for me in Urgent Care so I have to say nice things about him.

(Sorry about the photo quality as a few people have noted I'm not a real photographer.)

So this brings my total bass count to six and I have performed with all but one of them in the last year so that is a pretty good ratio I would say. I'm very excited to see how it sounds with the band as this weekend is gospel weekend. Hopefully my fingers can keep up with how sexy this thing looks. I promise I will get back to posting 20,000 word essays very soon, but I'm too tired right now from screaming at Nastia Liukin and Shawn Johnson to beat that 10 year old Chinese gymnast. I'm sure both of the people reading this will understand.

For Karissa

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 09:34:00 +0000

Pictures, snapshots in my head of your first day at home

Resting in your bassinet I can recall the view like yesterday

Of dolls and soccer and graduations and a wedding

Your pretty purple pajamas – Daddy’s perfect little lady

Perfect lasted just 2 short weeks and then it started with a scare

Daddy could not find God in it all, just fear and despair

Tubes and beeps and needles and a cold room

You began to give us a new view of the world – Patience Daddy

A reprieve and then more seizures and hospital beds

Doctors have no answer for you and it is frustrating

Swings and smiles and strange food and walks hand in hand

Expectations have become simple prayers for a miracle – Daddy loves you

Pictures, nightmares of that first moment of the rest of my life

Heart pounding fast and then a resigned ache of sadness

Screaming and sirens and tears and people everywhere

You are healed and God will be found in the details – Daddy misses you

Hello world...

noreply@blogger.com (Mark) — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 17:47:00 +0000

This post was written in October 2007, when I was just starting to read blogs and thought it would be fun to blog myself. I subsequently decided I really didn't think people cared what I had to say and I have a hard time keeping up with stuff like this. This post has been sitting on my blogger since then. I thought it would be interesting to post it as life has changed a lot since then and yet it hasn't really changed much at all.

I am finally entering the blog world as the last member of the band to do this blogging thing. I guess I'm also the second member of the family, so I'm pretty much just succumbing to peer pressure at this point. I rarely can think of interesting things to say to anonymous people or strangers so there is very little hope that this blog will be all that exciting. I mainly wanted to have a place to vent my thoughts about the things that go on in my life and see where it leads. While I don't necessarily think my life is particularly exciting or newsworthy, as I've been reading others blogs and I realize that can be fun to read about your friends, family or anonymous stranger's lives. So here goes...

I am a doctor and a bass player; the two passions I have spent most of my life pursuing, hence the name of the blog. I have always loved music from the time I was a little boy singing Neil Diamond. I grew up playing upright string bass in classical orchestras, and studying for hours each week to become as good a bass player as I could be. Since then, I have enjoyed music as an outlet for stress and an instrument of praise and worship, but my focus moved toward medical school about my 7th grade year when I got a C in PE and realized I better get myself together or I wouldn't have the grades to get into medical school. I know that sounds crazy, but I actually thought that. I cannot remember a time when I didn't want to be a physician. The voice inside my head was always calling me to be the best at everything I did, which was the burden I remember carrying until I made it to medical school and realized everybody else there had the same exact voice in their head (yeah...medical students are crazy) and I didn't have the energy (or brains) to compete for the top of my class anymore...so I took up golf. The rest is history.

God has blessed me with a beautiful and incredible wife Adrianne, who is the love of my life. We met in college at APU, we were married and began attending the Grove in 2002. We tried unsuccessfully to get pregnant and found we needed IVF to have a biological child. This was when I can look back and see how life began to change for us. Until that point we were kind of living the "American Dream" and life was on what seemed to me like a "normal" trajectory. How comfortable it was.

I would never give up the experiences we have had since, for I can see God working in me even now through the tough times. After months of injections for Adrianne and surgical procedures which included ovaries the size of softballs, we found out we were having a baby girl. Our lives would be forever changed. I've delivered probably 50-60 babies in my life, but I had never truly appreciated the wonder or the overwhelming pain of it all until I saw the look in Adrianne's eyes when the contractions got intense. I can still see it like a photograph in my mind. Her eyes were showing the pain, but there was more than that -- a bond which is more than words can describe. Our miracle daughter Karissa was born March 29, 2005. It's amazing the immense hope you have when you bring your child home for the first time. The first day of school, the piano recitals, graduations all were flashing through my mind as I scanned her nursery with a video camera that first day.

Two weeks later I was playing a gig with Adam, Mike and Scott at the Grove Grille. We brought Karissa home after a particularly long drive due to the 91/215/60 interchange construction and took her into the kitchen in the car seat. The next 10 minutes are like a bad dream which I can't get out of my head even 2 1/2 years later. I took my 2 week old daughter out of her car seat and she was blue and stiff like a plastic toy doll and my medical brain told me "she's dead." She wasn't breathing. She was staring straight ahead with her arms extended. I can't count how many pediatric life support classes I've taken in my life. I can put an IV in an infant's tibia bone. I can put a tube down their trachea to breathe for them. I can give them the right drugs and doses to keep them alive, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what to do with my own child. All I did was yell "you can't be dead!" over and over. Adrianne called 911 frantically and the paramedics were there in 2 minutes, but it seemed like an hour. I managed to listen to her chest for a heartbeat (not the correct answer on the test just for those medical professionals in training) and heard her heart racing along at about 180 beats per minute. I heard her take a big gasp of air and slowly her color came back and she began moving again. The paramedics arrived and they took her to the hospital.

The hospital is a cold place when you're a patient. I never noticed that until I was one. It's also unbearably slow when you are scared. And we were. We were in the hospital with Karissa for about 4 days and did not find a cause for her seizures. I remember a conversation with Adrianne we had when grandma and grandpa were watching Karissa and we had a few moments alone. I remember the pain when she said God has a plan for this. I said "I don't believe in a God who would cause our daughter to have seizures," I was angry. We had so many friends and family who were there for us, but I felt empty and alone. Adrianne wanted me to pray for her and I did, but I don't really think I meant it.

Sad you can grow up in the church and have all the support in the world, but somehow that doesn't mean much if you can't call on Him and know that He is there. It's all about relationship and at that moment I feel like my experience of God was the one who helped me get through medical school and get married to the right girl and buy my house at the right time. The "god" of the "American Dream." It wasn't about a relationship that God wanted to have with me and share with me it was about God on my terms, in my own image. I am finding out what I always knew in my head that Jesus came along side and loved the broken people, the scared people, the sad people. He didn't really get all excited about the people who had it all together. I needed to be humbled and although I still don't believe His plan was for Karissa to be sick, He uses these moments to give us pause in our own plan and bring us back to relationship with Him.

Karissa is growing up now she's a 2 year old and has had several hospitalizations for seizures since. We have come to realize she is developmentally delayed due to having seizures and being on anti-seizure medications. She has a part of her brain (the temporal lobe) that is overactive and she still has some small petit mal seizures, but has thankfully not had any of the more dramatic partial complex seizures in almost 6 months. Adrianne at times feels overwhelmed with taking Karissa to physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, special education preschool classes and doctors appointments. It is tough right now but we are surviving.

I don't pretend to know everything in medicine. In my short career I've certainly made my share of mistakes, but I think I've also been taught a really important and practical lesson through all of this about being a good doctor. It kind of ties up the whole of my story in a nutshell. It happened a week ago I was talking to a man who was experiencing severe abdominal pain that had been worsening over about 3 months. He had so many tests to figure out what was wrong, but the specialists were unsure. We had a feeling it was cancer, but none of us knew for certain. He was having one more test that day which would be definitive and I could see he was angry and scared. The man was frustrated because he continued to be treated like he was seeking narcotic drugs, but his pain never got better. Drug seekers are like lepers in the medical community, they are considered unclean and treated like garbage. Jesus listened to these type of people and I made it a point that day to listen to his story. He had just adopted a 6 year old boy and was taking care of his elderly father who was the founder of the plastic company which my patient was now running. He said he wasn't afraid to die because he knew Jesus and he knew where he was going. But he was worried about his adopted son and his elderly father. He told me he didn't know how his business would survive if he died.

He was very proud of what he did and began to tell me that he once told his dad that he learned how to be good with making plastic from the movie Caddyshack. I promptly finished his sentence for him and said "Be the ball." The guy smiled and said "how did you know I was going to say that?" I caught myself tearing up (I do that a lot) and said, "because I play golf and I know Caddyshack. And besides in my business the most important lesson I've learned is to be a good doctor you have to 'be the patient'" With that the man cried and he thanked me and I gave him his pain medication.

He came back to see me yesterday. He wanted to let me know he has incurable stomach cancer. He has less than a year to live according to the specialist. I just sat and listened to him express his anger about why it took so long to find out. I don't have an answer. Medicine is a tough business. I just know that God is with me to fill the void of the tough spots and the anger and the frustration. I know that now.