57 comments/ 62611 views/ 33 favorites What Would You Do To Save A Life By: Slirpuff Hi, my name is Steve and I'm an asshole. Sounds like the opening line out of an AA meeting doesn't it, but it's not. That's what my ex-girlfriend Carol called me when she walked out last month. "Steve, you're a self centered, selfish asshole." were her exact words. And the worst thing about it, she was right. "Babes, please don't go, I can change," I said as I begged her to stay. "Give me one more chance and if I screw up, I'll even help you pack." "Steve, look around you, I've all ready moved my stuff out if you haven't already noticed, besides I'm sick and tired of hearing your sorry ass excuses. It's the same old bullshit you've been flinging for the last year. You gave me the same song and dance six months ago, last month and tonight, I just don't believe you anymore. It's always me, me, me, whatever happened to us? The only reason I'm even here right now is because I've got enough class to do this face to face instead of over the phone," Carol said staring at me. "Look at me Steve," Carol said as she spun around. "Look at what you're giving up because you can't get your head out of your ass. You just lost the best thing you'll ever have." I made one more desperate plea before she stormed out the door. Did I like her? Hell yes. And she was right, she was the best thing that ever happened to me, as she had the uncanny knack of keeping me grounded and on the straight and narrow; I guess she got tired of babysitting me. Besides that, she was beautiful and the best lay I'd ever had, bar none. So after Carol left, I did what every loser does, I got drunk, a lot. The next two weeks were kind of a blur. Thank God my boss liked me and I was pretty good at what I did for a living or I would have got my ass fired. He sympathized with me but like everyone else he had more than enough on his own plate to worry about me. The one thing that brought me back to reality was the fact that all my friends were really Carol's friends, who just put up with me for her sake. No one wanted to hang out with me or even stop after work for a drink anymore. "Fuck them all, I don't need them," I said to myself as I stopped at our old watering hole by myself for the tenth night in a row. I was going downhill fast and if it wasn't for the fact that I had a running partner who wouldn't take no for an answer, I would have lost it. "Steve, get your sorry ass up," he yelled as he pounded on my door at six o'clock in the morning. "Steve, you look like shit, what are you, still drunk?" Dan asked me as I opened the door. "Don't even think your leaving me high and dry this morning. Get your ass dressed, you've got five minutes." We took it pretty easy the first two miles but after that Dan picked up the pace. "Are you trying to kill me this morning? Have you no respect for the fucking dead?" I yelled as I tried to keep up with him. "Hey man, I didn't pour those drinks down your throat last night. I was stone sober in bed by nine thirty with Cindy," he said smiling. "I'll take Cindy over a six pack of Corona any day of the week," he laughed as he picked up the pace again. I stopped, puked and started running again. Luckily it was just liquid and no chunks as I wiped my face with my handkerchief before throwing it on the pile of slop on the ground. I never did catch up to Dan but he sure as hell was waiting for me at my apartment when I finished. "Maybe tonight you'll go a little easier on the sauce," he said finishing his bottle of water. "I expect your ass up and waiting for me tomorrow morning," Dan told me getting in his car. I would have puked again but there wasn't anything left in my stomach and there was no way I wanted the dry heaves, so I skipped breakfast. A cup of black coffee in hand I went to work. Instead of stopping after work for a few, I decided to quit indulging for a while. I looked like and felt like crap most days and needed to dry out, for a little while anyway. I must have been stronger than I thought. I made it a whole month without anything stronger than a white soda. Dan still kicked my ass every morning but at least I stayed up with him now without puking. "Hi mom, just checking in, anything new?" I asked. I knew what was new and always kept an upbeat attitude when I made my weekly or biweekly calls home. "Hi honey, not much new here," she replied. "Your father is still threatening to move us all down to Florida with you. He says he's tired of the snow and cold weather up here," my mom said with a laugh. "Since he doesn't golf or fish anymore, I keep telling him he'll drive himself and me nuts in a month. He says he'd rather be a warm nut than a cold one any day." "How's Gary doing?" I asked fully knowing the answer. "He's better. He has his good and bad days, you know how it is." My younger brother Gary was sick again. He'd been in and out of the hospital since he was one year old. He battled a kidney disease for the first eighteen years of his life and finally beat that but now wasn't feeling good again. I used to watch my mother lay out his pills every night, carefully counting each as she went through bottle after bottle. They kept him alive, but ate up his stomach and almost every other part of his body. The biggest problem was, after taking those high doses for so many years, it affected all his joints. He was told that by the time he hit thirty he'd probably have to have his knees and hip joints replaced if he wanted to keep walking. But talking to him, you'd never know he'd ever been sick a day in his life. He worked out, played sports and even went hunting and fishing. Hell, he did ten times more than I did. Gary even found himself a girl and got married two years ago and now Brenda was pregnant with their first. He sure had it together, unlike me. "I'll give him a call this weekend and see how he and Brenda are doing. Hell, I might even sneak up to see you guys this summer if I can get away," I told my mom fully knowing that what I'd just said probably wouldn't happen. At least it made her feel good knowing that it was possible that she might have the whole family together for a couple of days anyway this summer. "Mom, got to go for now. I'll keep in touch and if anything comes up let me know." So life went on. I slept, ate, went to work and got my butt kicked five days a week by Dan; did it get any better than this? I dated a few girls, but either we didn't click or they quickly tired of my attitude. I saw Carol around and even talked to her once in a while. I couldn't tell if she was dating but knew without asking she'd never go out with me ever again. So I hit the bars to see what else was available. Becky at work suggested a dating service when I couldn't come up with a date for the company spring outing but I told her politely no way, no how. I thought about getting a hot escort for the day and wowing the guys I worked with but gave up that idea after finding out what it would cost me. I skipped the outing. The week after the loneliest birthday I'd ever spent, my dad gave me a call. "Steve, I've got some bad news," is how he started it. "Your brother has cancer, lung cancer to be exact." "Dad, that's impossible, Gary never smoked a cigarette in his entire life." "The doctors aren't sure how he got it other than to say it's a type you get from second hand smoke. Maybe hanging out in sports bars with his friends or whatever, but the how really doesn't matter at this point. I also found out that when he switched jobs last year, because of his past medical problems, he had to wait twelve months before getting his major medical coverage. Now he's screwed and the company's not going to bat for him either." "Isn't he on Brenda's insurance?" I asked. "Because of his pre-existing condition her insurance wouldn't let her add him, so they just figured that within a couple of months they'd be home free." "In other words he has no insurance coverage?" "That's about right. They'll cover his prescriptions and general office visits but no major medical." "Dad, just how bad is it," I asked. "It's cancer, but it's not that super aggressive type, thank God. They're going to start with radiation to see if they can shrink it and if not, they'll cut it out and give him some chemo. The doctor says his chances are better than seventy-five percent because they caught it so early, but the costs are going to be staggering none the less." "I don't have a lot saved up, but Gary's more than welcome to it," I told dad. "Son, it's going to take a lot more than you, I and they can come up with. The kids are still fighting with the insurance company and are looking into a hospital that'll work with them but he's starting treatment next Monday. Look, we haven't told your mom yet because she'd do nothing but worry and Gary didn't even want me to call you, so if you talk to him don't let on unless he tells you himself. I'm sorry it couldn't be better news but I thought you should know. I'll e-mail you updates when I hear anything more. Give him a call this weekend, he and Brenda are feeling a little low right now." We said our good-byes and hung up. Feeling a little low? Damn, I'd be going fucking nuts about now. I pulled up my bank statement on line and figured I had about five grand extra I could send to him and maybe an extra couple hundred every month but my dad was right, it was a drop in the bucket. I called my brother Sunday and neither he nor my sister said jack shit about his condition. They told me they were looking forward to the baby, their vacation this summer and how the renovations were going on their house. I almost said something but respected my dad's wishes. I spent the next two weeks on the computer finding all there was to know about his condition, costs involved and if anyone was doing any cutting edge research he could get connected with. There was one place in Chicago but they'd have to move there to qualify. The Mayo Clinic in Rochester had nothing and most of the small hospitals budgets, I was told, were too tight to do much for him. I couldn't believe with all the money the insurance companies were raking in they couldn't cut him a break. My first ray of hope came from the American Cancer Society. I'd raised money for them over the years especially when a close friend died of a combination of breast cancer and then lung cancer. After supposedly beating breast cancer, she caught pneumonia and was diagnosed with lung cancer. She died in less than a week. That, I would not allow happen to my brother. I talked to a nice lady named Fran from the Cancer Society's local office. I was told I would be allowed to raise money for my brother under the A.C.S. label but she was sorry that their existing funds were already spoken for. She gave me written authorization and wished me the best of luck. "If there is anything we can do, let us know. The more it's out there in the news the more donations we receive." Dan came up with the idea of a cancer run fundraiser Thursday morning. "Hell, get people to donate so much a mile like they do for the Relay For Life fund raisers and then all you have to do is run or walk and collect the money; a piece of cake. However, when I started to take donations I saw how hard it really was going to be. A dollar a mile was the best I could get from anyone. I had twenty sponsors and figured at this rate it would take five thousand to get the money Gary would need, and I was running out of time. That's when I turned off the common sense button in my brain. It took me another week to make my initial plans and when I started to talk to new sponsors they just rolled their eyes and said if I was going to attempt it, they were behind me. Things were looking up. "Are you fucking nuts?" Dan asked as we headed back towards my apartment on our morning run. "There is no way on earth you can do it, physically it's just not possible. Shit, have you even talked to your work about it? Do you have any idea how long that's going to take you?" he yelled as he just kept peppering me with questions on why it couldn't be done; and he was probably right. You see I came up with this hair brain scheme to walk from my apartment in Orlando to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota and give them a check for my brother's treatment. As I said, I had turned off the reality switch in my brain. "Dan look, I'm in great shape, and if nothing else I can run, walk and even crawl my way there. Two years ago I did sixty-one miles in a day and didn't even get a blister on my feet. I know it's a long ways, but it's for my only brother, what choice do I have?" "All right I'll help you set it up but I just want you to know up front, you'll never make it." Never tell me I can't do something; it's like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Dan and I spent the next three weeks planning out my insanity. My work understood my dilemma and backed me to the hilt. I could take the three weeks vacation I'd saved up and the company let me add in the ten-paid holidays. They told me that we'd work out the details later, but would pledge a dollar a mile to boot. That gave me twenty-five days paid and I was given the option of twenty-five more as a kind of unpaid leave. Fifty days, hell no way it wouldn't take me that long. I next hit our local running store. Like everyone else, they rolled their eyes but did agree to give me five pair of running shoes, as long as they could put their name on the shoes. I didn't care and they even let me put up a poster for pledges on their activity board. Next, I had to find a hotel chain that was large enough so no matter where I ended up, I would have a place to stay. The Holiday Inn's gave me a fifty percent discount on their cheapest room rate, which was not to exceed thirty-five dollars a night. They sent Dan a list of locations as we started to hone in on my route. Since I was our company's material manager I was given permission to hit up our vendors for donations. Of the ninety-three vendors, twenty-seven said they would donate, but told me that I was a decimal place off on the distance I'd given them. When I told them it was correct they asked where they could send the condolence cards. They laughed, I didn't. Being a Harley rider I stopped off at the dealer I'd purchased my last two bikes from. They asked if I'd take a recent spill because they figured my brains were scrambled when I asked them for help. "Look, all I'm asking is for a pledge of anything you can give me per mile and ten tee shirts. I will put them in each of the ten dealerships in the tri-county area and people can donate and write on the shirt the name of someone they know that has or had cancer. I know they all sponsor rides and fund raisers, but in this way, they'll also get a little advertisement since I'll be wearing the shirts everyday." They thought I was nuts but gave me the shirts and contacted the other dealers who also pledged. It was all starting to come together. I spent a week laying out clothes, medical supplies, hats and planning my daily meals. I needed so many calories to keep up my strength and I didn't want to carry a lot of money with me so I was relying on a credit card and a cash debit card. "Steve, you'll never be able to carry all this stuff," Dan said looking at my pile. "Maybe, just maybe I have a solution." The next day he came back with a little two-wheel cart. "You can put everything into dry bags and pull it behind you. It's going to slow you down a lot, but at least you'll have everything with you in case you run into problems." We tried it the next day on our morning run. I didn't like it, but I really didn't have much of a choice. Start to finish it took me five weeks to plan my outing, as I liked to call it. My I-Pod, and my smart phone with G.P.S. and an Internet connection rounded out my equipment. I loaded them with every song and phone number I could think of and put my map route in the planner I was going to carry. May 1st at about five thirty in the morning is when I planned my kick off. I mailed to each hotel I'd be staying at, four pair of socks, a tee shirt and running shorts. I sent my extra running shoes to a few along the way so I'd have a fresh pair every week. I figured my feet were going to be my main concern if I ever expected to finish. "Steve, are you nuts or just drunk?" my dad asked me the day before I left. "No, but I kind of wish I was right about now," was my reply. "I've got at least fifty to sixty sponsors which puts me over fifty thousand dollars at a minimum. The closest I can come up with, it's just over eleven hundred miles and I'm hoping to average thirty five to forty miles a day; a piece of cake," I told him. "I just hope you know what your doing." "I'm not even sure about it myself, but I've only got one brother and no other way to raise money as fast as he's going to need it. Just don't tell Gary or mom. She'll go nuts and Gary will try to talk me out of it like everyone else has. I should see you in about forty days. I'll have my cell with me so call me if you need me." "I love you, son," was the last thing he said as I hung up. Dan met me the following morning just before I left. "Maybe this will help," he said as he put a little sign on the back of my cart. "Florida to Minnesota Cancer Run. Donations accepted." "It may help, but it sure as hell can't hurt. I'm also going to hit up all your friends to see if they'll pledge anything," he told me. "Friends? Hell, that should get me all of a dollar fifty," I thought to myself. So, on a beautiful and warm morning I took off on a quest to help my brother. I didn't have a clue what I was in for but I sure as hell couldn't very well back out now. I made almost fifty-eight miles the first day. If I didn't have to pull that damn cart I probably could have done another five to seven miles more. I was feeling pretty cocky as I checked into my room and took a much-needed shower. I took off my sweaty tee shirt and washed it out in the bathroom sink along with my socks. My Harley shirt had seventy-one names of people who'd had cancer on it. I had decided to switch to a different shirt each day along with rotating my shoes. I had to keep my feet clean and dry that was my main goal. I grabbed a quick dinner at a Denny's and after watching a little television hit the sack. I didn't set the alarm because I figured I'd let my body dictate my pace. After a breakfast of eggs and sausage I was off again. I was a little sore but after popping four ibuprofen it got a little better. People honked and a few threw me dollar bills as I ran on. I figured at every town I stopped in I'd see if there was a Harley dealership and maybe pickup a few extra bucks. I called Fran and told her I'd started my quest and would check in with her a couple times a week. I heard afterwards that all the dealerships had put up big maps and were plotting my daily progress on them. I also heard there was a pool going on how long I would last. The big money was on twenty-two days. On day six my feet were on fire and killing me. As I was soaking them in ice I figured I was pushing it too hard and would have to back it off a little before I crashed and burned. I picked up some A & D ointment for between my butt cheeks and a box of round band aids for my nipples that were rubbed raw and bleeding. I was averaging forty-five miles a day but figure I needed to ease up for a day or two before pushing it again. I was doing the two ten strategy. I jogged for two minutes and walked for ten. When I found that walking hurt my feet more than jogging I revised it to jogging ten minutes and walking for three. It wasn't perfect but worked for a few days. All right I wasn't in as good a shape as I thought I was. Running five to eight miles a day was one thing and even running a marathon was an accomplishment but this went way beyond that. After nine days my I-Pod stopped working and my legs felt like lead. I'd doubled up on my socks and was working on a nasty blister on the back of the heel of my left foot. What Would You Do To Save A Life The worst part of it all was the loneliness of being out there by myself. After analyzing the last two years of my life I realized I truly was a self-centered asshole. I only helped others when I absolutely had to, but expected everyone to drop what they were doing just to help me. I made a mental note to call Carol when I got back; maybe I could get her to at least talk to me. At two and a half weeks Fran told me that she'd collected two thousand dollars for my brother. "I don't understand? I thought all your funds were spoken for." "I let the local news media know what you were doing and now they're giving updates on where you are and how you're doing. How are you doing Steve?" "In two words, sore and tired but I guess I can't quit now even if I wanted to," I said with a laugh. "I'm pushing for June 12th, I only hope my feet and legs can hold out that long." "Well keep up the good work and remember it's for your brother." She didn't have to say that, I already knew it. I just hoped I could make it without dying in the process. Why didn't I just say two hundred and fifty or five hundred miles, which would have made a lot more sense. I wrote in my log every day on how I was doing and if anything exciting happened. On day seventeen, a car stopped and the guy gave me a hundred dollar bill. On day nineteen, a little old lady was waiting for me along the road and gave me a bag of cookies and a ten dollar bill. God bless, was all she said. On day twenty-nine it rained all fucking day. I was soaked from eight in the morning until six o'clock at night; I thought I was going to lose it before I made it to the hotel for a hot shower. After my shower I iced my feet on and off for the better part of an hour before putting lotion and baby power on then. I logged my miles and for the first time since I began I started having doubts. I slept with my feet propped up on two pillows to reduce the swelling and would take a hot bath every morning to get the blood flowing in my legs. The ultra-marathoner Dan Jansen had run thirty marathons in thirty days the previous year. I'd read his articles on what he ate and everything else to prepare for what he'd done but I soon realized I was no Dan Jansen. I could tell I'd lost weight but at the end of the day I was usually too tired to eat much. I was getting sick of eggs for breakfast but they were easy, fast and stayed down. Gatorade, granola bars and fruit were my lunch and I tried to have a pasta and hunk of meat every night. I hadn't counted on burning as many calories as I guess I currently was doing. Jackie, from work, kept me updated on what was happening and she became my right arm as I told her I wasn't going to make it back to work by Friday and probably not to the following Monday. She still called me every morning to see where I was and to hit me with any problems. I think Jackie really did it to take my mind off the pain I was feeling every morning when my feet hit the floor. Days thirty-one through thirty-five were awful. I was still slowing up and my feet just plain hurt all the time and the backs of my legs seemed to always knot up. The blister on my left heel was the size of a silver dollar and I had small ones on the balls of each foot. Both of my big toes were now getting black and my toes were looking like ten red piggies. Every night after icing my feet, I drained the blisters, smeared on a glob of Neosporin and a large bandage. I started limping to take the weight off my left foot and even tried to jog on the balls of my feet whenever I could. Day thirty-seven was cold with a constant misty rain. I started off with a rain slicker and hat but added bottoms when I got chilled. At about six o'clock that night, I came up on two guys with a microphone and camera. "Steve, can I talk to you for a couple minutes?" he asked. I was thankful for the break. We talked as I told him why I was doing it and how disgusted I was with the insurance companies, the hospitals and even the government politicians. "I'd love to have a couple of executives in the corporate ivory towers get really sick and have the insurance companies tell them that they aren't covered. I think you'll see changes done overnight instead of having to wait for years while everyone else gets screwed over. If they'd just stop arguing amongst themselves and think about the average Joe who pays taxes and can't afford to get sick maybe they would get something done. But it all comes down to money. Those that have it and those that want it; I'm just sick of it. So I walk to give my brother what he can't get on his own, it just isn't fair," I told them. "Steve, do you think you'll finish?" "I don't have a choice. I'm not a doctor who can treat him, I don't own a hospital and I sure as hell don't run an insurance company; because if I did I wouldn't have to do what I'm doing right now. My brother needs treatment and I'll do whatever is necessary to see that he gets it. So, if you'll excuse me, I need to keep moving before my legs tighten up or I'll never finish." I guess the cameraman panned out to catch me walking and limping away, that's how they ended the piece. On day forty my dad called to tell me mom and Gary found out what I was doing. They were both pissed that no one had told them what I was up to. Someone had seen the news clip on me and called Gary who in turn called mom. I guess my dad had a little explaining to do. I didn't care at this point; I just wanted this nightmare to end. It hurt to even breathe at this point. Forget running, I was struggling to just walk. I remember someone telling me that when all else fails just put one foot in front of the other and keep moving, and that's exactly what I was doing. Now at night after icing I would just call and have my dinner delivered; I didn't want to do anything but get off my feet. I was still slowing down and there wasn't anything I could do beside put in longer hours, which meant the pain lasted longer and longer everyday. I was popping about twelve ibuprofen a day and it was starting to tear up my stomach. At day forty-seven I almost lost it. The hotel had to sent a car to pick me up at just after eleven o'clock because I had sat down and couldn't get back up; my legs just gave out. I just wanted to cry. I'd started wrapping my feet in elastic bandages to keep the swelling down and was now stopping midday to ice. My toes started bleeding and for the last three days I was putting gauze between my toes so they wouldn't rub together, my feet were one big blister. But, I was in Minnesota and could see the light at the end of the tunnel. I woke up on day forty-nine with three local news cameras outside my door. I was given coffee and donuts and spent twenty minutes going through it all again. Most of the fight was out of me by now, I just wanted to finish. I was told Fran had sent a check for nine thousand dollars to the Mayo clinic and when the reporters asked me if I'd raised enough money I told them I wasn't sure. "I've done my best and that's all I can do. Over the last seven weeks I've learned a lot about the health care system and how it should be changed. It all comes down to helping people. What would you do to save the life of your sister, wife, daughter or brother?" I asked. "How far would you go? Then ask the insurance company that question and don't let them give you an answer in dollars and cents because that's not what it's all about; not for me anyways." "Steve, have you always been a crusader for the rights of the underdogs?" one of the reporters asked me. "I was told by a girl I foolishly let get away that I was a self-centered asshole who would never change. I thought she was right for a long time, but eventually realized that people can change if they really want to. So if I can change from an asshole to a person with a mission, can you imagine what a big insurance company can do?" I grabbed one more cup of coffee and thanked them for their time but told them I had two more days left and would answer all their questions after that. I started the longest two days of my life. My dad said everyone was going to meet me at the Mayo Clinic and to give us a heads up when I got close. I thought I'd jog the last day and show everyone just how tough I was, but the pain was way too severe for such foolishness. It felt like needles were sticking me with every step and every muscle was paying me back for pushing them beyond their breaking point. My feet were a fucking mess and my legs weren't much better, but I was close and that was the only thing that kept me moving. I didn't get much sleep the last couple of nights. My legs ached all the time and started to twitch before tightening up. I would lie in a hot bathtub until the water got cold, drain it and start again. I guess I slept a couple of hours on and off but with being on my feet fourteen to sixteen hours there weren't enough hours in the day. Fifteen miles was all I had left on the last day. I started off at 8:00 in the morning figuring it would probably take me at least ten to twelve hours. I called Ruth to say it was almost over and had appreciated all her support. I called Tammy for the last time; I knew I had to keep my mind off the pain if I was to make it. I told her I would see her on Monday. "I might be in a wheel chair but I'll be there." She laughed and told me to just shut up and finish because she was tired of carrying my ass at work. I would have laughed but I was just too tired, my tank was empty and I was going on fumes. At five mile left I saw my brother waiting for me. "You look like shit, couldn't you at least shaved this morning?" he said with a forced smile. "Been a little busy if you haven't noticed," I replied. "Yeah, yeah, you always were a whiner. Come on pick up your God damn feet and lets get moving, mom said we're having dinner at her house tonight and not to be late." I was even too tired to smile. At three miles I started to tear up. I stumbled once on a curb because I couldn't raise my foot high enough and almost fell. I just wanted the pain to go away at this point. Gary wanted me to stop or at least let him help me, but I told him I had to finish. "For once in my life I'm going to finish what I started," I told him but mostly myself. At one mile I was shuffling. My body knew I was almost there and started shutting down. If Gary hadn't been by my side I don't think I would have made it. I was shuffling like a ninety year old man and had tears in my eyes from the pain, I had nothing left. When I saw the hospital I did lose it for a couple of minutes and stopped to cry. I'd left the cart at the motel this morning or I would have jumped in it and had my brother pull me to the entrance. There was a thirty-degree incline on the driveway up to the front door. I kept asking myself who in the hell would put a hospital on a fucking hill; then I heard it. It wasn't loud at first but got louder with every step I took. With my head down fighting for every step I looked up and saw about fifty people standing at the entrance cheering for me. I stopped, took a deep breath, straightened up and walked the last quarter mile with my head held high right into the arms of my dad. Thank God they had a gurney waiting. I was eased on it and as everyone congratulated me, I was whisked into the emergency room where two doctors were waiting. They cut off my shoes; the elastic bandages and surveyed the damage. I was right, my feet were a mess. Cleaned and bandaged, I was told I'd be off them for at least two to three weeks. I guess I was right about the wheel chair. With a needle in my arm and my family around my bedside it was finally over. I got a complimentary ride to my parent's house in an ambulance and was even given a wheelchair to use for a couple of days. I'd asked that they not make a fuss but I guess no one was listening to me at this point anymore. All my old friends and family were there as everyone told me how proud they were with me. I ate a lot, and thanked everyone but by 8:00 I was falling asleep. Everyone left and my mom told them that she'd keep them updated. A bath and shave brought me somewhat back to life but I needed sleep and lots of it. Two pain pills and I was out like a light sleeping in my old room on my old shitty bed. Even though the room was dark I knew it had to be at least mid-day when I opened my eyes. My body had been waking me up automatically at five o'clock for so long, this morning I knew something was different. I felt numb and a little fuzzy in the head as I tried to sit up and get out of bed. "This was not going to be fun," I thought as I looked down at two wrapped up stumps. "Shit," I said as I tried to put my weight down on one foot before climbing back into bed. The pain was back with a vengeance. Using a crutch I got the wheelchair over to the side of the bed and hopped in. I threw on a sweatshirt and wheeled myself out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Everyone was sitting around drinking coffee, I guess, waiting for me to get up. "Any coffee left?" I asked, as the kitchen came back to life. "Before you ask, yes, I slept good, my head feels like shit and no, I can't walk; besides that I'm doing pretty well." "Well I'm glad you're up, your cell phone has been ringing non-stop, I finally had to turn it off; I was afraid it was going to wake you," my dad told me slipping a cup of coffee under my nose. "Nothing on earth could have woken me last night after two of those pills. The only reason I'm up now, is for the fact that I had to pee so bad I couldn't stand it any longer." "Well Steve, what are your plans for today?" my brother asked. "I thought we might go out and jog a few laps around the football field just to keep active. I wouldn't want you to get lazy and fat on me." "Besides a few calls I need to make I want to do nothing. I've got to make arrangements to fly home tomorrow but today I just want to stay inside and do nothing for a change. My only problem is going to be maneuvering around for a couple of weeks. There is no way I can walk and I still have to work for a living. I guess I'll figure out something." "Well you don't have to worry about that, at least for the time being. Someone volunteered to be your wet nurse and keep you in line," my brother told me. "Mom wanted to come down and do it but we felt that her dragging your ass on and off the toilet and into the shower might be a little embarrassing for her," my brother said trying not to laugh. "For her? How about me?" "You haven't got anything she hasn't seen before," he replied. "But mom got overruled." "Who in the hell could overrule mom? Shit dad hasn't even said boo to her in the last ten years?" I questioned Gary as my dad gave me the look that I was skating on thin ice. "I did," said a voice behind Brenda. "I figured since I'd seen it all before and already lived in Florida, I was the logical choice," Carol told me." "She showed up on our doorstep two days ago and has been waiting for your sorry ass," Brenda told me. "I told her you weren't worth a shit and even though she agreed with me she talked us into letting her stay." All right my eyes lit up and my heart started pumping again as she walked up to me and gave me a kiss. "I told you guys this would be just what the doctor ordered," a smiling Brenda told my parents. "Maybe we should let the two of them get reacquainted, Steve's probably still tired anyway," as they made their way out of the kitchen leaving the two of us alone. "I don't understand?" "Me either. Dan was the one who told us about your little stunt when he went looking for donations. We all thought it was one of your stupid tricks but when we checked it out, we realized that you were really trying to do this." "Did do it," I corrected her. "All right, did do it. When you gave that first and second interviews we kind of all felt like shits for what we said and put you through even though you know you'll really deserved it at the time. Steve, no one, I mean no one thought you would make it besides Fran and Tammy. Everyone at the Harley dealership lost and donated their bets to you. I flew out after your last interview and tracked down your parents and met your brother. He's really proud at what you did for him. He wanted to meet you at the Minnesota border along with everyone else but your dad told everyone to back off and to let you do it on your own," she told me. "I guess I was wrong, I guess even you can grow up if you put your mind to it." I didn't hear everything she said as I was just eating her up with my eyes. She was really here; I wasn't dreaming it, as I had for so many nights before. "Earth to Steve, have you heard one word I just said?" she asked. "We can talk later," I said trying to stand up and grab her before I realized what the hell I was doing. "This is going to be a lot harder than I thought," she said pushing me back into my wheelchair. "In order for this to work you're going to have to do everything I say, is that understood?" she told me standing there with her arms crossed in from of her. "Understood, you're the boss." "Ok. Now you still need some rest," she said wheeling back down the hall towards my old bedroom. Once inside she locked the door and pushed the wheelchair up next to the bed. I used my arms to lift myself up and slide onto the bed as she pushed it away. " I want you to get some sleep. You still look a little green around the gills and we're flying home tomorrow night, so lay down." I did what she ordered me to. "I need a kiss goodnight. I can't sleep without a kiss goodnight," I said smiling at her. "Ok, but only one. You need to build your strength back up and sleep is what the doctor ordered." I waited until she got close enough then reached for her, pulling Carol onto the bed. "I know what the doctor ordered and it wasn't sleep," I told her. "Steve, not yet. We are going to take this slow because I don't want to be hurt again, I can't do that to myself." "Carol, I'll never do that again, I promise you. All I ask is for you to trust me enough to give me another chance. I'm not saying I'm perfect, but with you here to kick my ass when I get out of line. I think we can make it," I said kissing her. She got her way, I went back to sleep, but not alone. We didn't fool around in my mom's house but waited until Monday night when we got back to my apartment. I never realized how much you use feet in making love. We ended up with Carol riding me to completion. If reality hadn't all ready hit, I overheard Carol Sunday night on her cell phone when I was supposed to be asleep. "No I can't see you anymore, I'm back with my old boyfriend. No, it wasn't anything you did; it's just that I want to give it another shot that's all. Ok, if it doesn't work out I'll give you a call," was the last thing I heard. Did I dare bring it up to Carol? Not on your life. There was no way on this earth I was going to fuck up our relationship this time. Maybe down the road I might ask her if she was seeing anyone after we broke up and if so, how serious it was, but not now for Christ's sakes, everything was still too new. We were happy again and I wanted to keep it that way. Tammy met me at the door Monday morning. There was a banner across my door that read Welcome Back. The company and employees presented me a check for thirty-nine hundred dollars and even had a cake for me at lunch that said, 'Florida to Minnesota or Bust." I spent the better half of two weeks gathering up the donations. A couple of other vendors who saw the news clips also decided to contribute. Each of the Harley dealerships kicked in a couple thousand dollars and the corporate office in Milwaukee donate three thousand on their own. Fran said my publicity had generated a lot of donations and if I was available the regional manager would like to meet me, things were looking up. What Would You Do To Save A Life All in all, I raised a total of sixty-two thousand dollars. But after my tirades on the news, the Mayo Clinic picked up the tab for Gary's treatment. However, the best news was that the radiation had shrunk the tumor and it was just a minor surgery to remove what was left. He had some chemo after that just as a precaution, but after six months he got a clean bill of health. Carol and I flew up two months after Brenda had her baby and had our second homecoming in nine months. Brenda and Gary wanted to name their baby after me, but I talked them out of it. "I'm no role model, not yet anyway. It would be way too much pressure on me and besides what girl would want to be called Stephen." On Christmas Eve night Carol gave me a new iPod Touch to replace the one I destroyed on my walk. I gave her an engagement ring; I think my present was better. After we got back, we dated for two months before she moved back in with me. She thought we were still in the talking stage when I surprised her the ring. I bought a gaudy ring with a huge plastic stone and put it in a ring box, I wrapped it and put a big bow on it. He eyes lit up when she saw the ring box but the smile turned to a frown when she opened it up. "What the hell is this?" she asked. "It's a ring, don't you like it? It may be a little big. We'll probably have to get it sized," I said as I took it from her and squeezed the band together to make it smaller so I could put it on her right hand. "Perfect," I said as I held her hand out. I think she was about to say asshole or something to that effect when I pulled the real ring, out of my top shirt pocket, and slipped it on her left hand. "I guess if you don't like that one, maybe you'll like this one better," I said as I watched her eyes light up again as she about crushed my ribs. After looking at the ring she turned to face me. "Asshole," "You know, that's the same thing you said to me a year ago," I told her. "Yeah I know, but this time I mean it in a good way." We were married four months later. On our first anniversary I asked the question I'd wanted to ask for well over a year and a half. "Carol, when we broke up did you date around or find someone else to replace me?" I asked kind of carefully. She looked at me and smiled giving me a full mouth kiss with just the right amount of tongue. "Are you talking about that phone call I made that Sunday night at your parents house? The one where you were pretending to be asleep? The one I talked just loud enough to make sure you overheard every word I said? The call that it took you all this time to ask about? What do you think?" she asked me as I stood there with this shocked look on my face. "I dated a few guys but found no one to replace you, I couldn't let you know that. I figured that if you thought I had someone in the wings you might try a little harder this time. It worked didn't it?" "That was evil," I replied. "Get your ass over here and I'll show you just how evil I can be," she said kissing me and running towards the bedroom. "Asshole," I yelled chasing her. But I meant it in a nice way!!!!