DNR

On the back side of hope pass it started to sprinkle. I held my up hands tempting God to settle the tab. I was ready for a bolt of lightning to end my day… My life? Seth, being the smarter of us, told me to put my hands down.

Last week I took my Grandpa to the hospital. Among the many things that are ailing him, the most condemning is old age. He is completely deaf in one ear and can barely hear out of the other. He was hardly able to stand long enough to put on a gown. Despite this, he rarely passed up the opportunity to tell a corny joke, or hit on the nurses. He was not a stranger here and he knew the drill like he had trained for it. His translucent hands revealed the fragile veins that could hardly support the I.V. On his wrist was one of many plastic bracelets that held his arms down as if he was shackled to the $35,000 bed.

D.N.R. Is what it said in bold certain letters.

“What does that mean?” he questioned.

“Do not resuscitate” Nobody really wanted to remind him, but it had to be done.

I could see in his face, it was something he had thought about many times. “What do you think about that?” he asked.

I don’t know… It’s SHIT! What kind of quitter load of bullshit are they trying to preach here?! You don’t just give up. Cobra Kai NEVER DIE! You know from karate kid! Come on that’s old school elementary stuff. He should know that!

I said nothing and tried to figure out the right thing to say. Even less came out of my mouth.

I don’t know what this has to do with running, and I’m sure this won’t give you a pr on your next race. But I can’t seem to run far enough to make this look small. If it is going to make sense it’ll be between mile one, and a million. There I can no longer cry, cause I need to breath, and the pain in my legs balance out the pain narcotics can’t hide.

Maybe he just needs a pacer like Seth to tell him to put his hands down, and stop being stupid. What if he has had pacers? And this is his finish line…

Maybe the easy/cliché is to say, “Never give up”.  You can find many bumper stickers to remind you. Perhaps the true strength is to know when to say, “This is my finish line!”

I don’t care where my finish line is, but I hope I know for certain when I pass it. If I happen to get to mile a million and one, and I get my own DNR bracelet, I want to know that I savored every mile.  I am so grateful of all my loving friends and family who have “paced and crewed” me.  I know there will be time at the finish line to reminisce with all those who have beaten me there.

I shook my Grandpa’s hand, “I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Not if they ‘Do Not Resuscitate” he said with a toothless grin. 

-Jeremy