"There are certain times that you think, "OK, you have beaten me down to my knees and now the challenge is, I am on my knees and you keep beating me down." And the question is: are you going to keep beating me all the way to the ground or will I find a way to struggle my way back on to my feet?"
--- Professor Randy Pausch (The Last Lecture)
A lot of people know, or at least at one time some years back knew, of Randy Pausch and his famous Last Lecture. Dr. Randy Pausch, was an American professor at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh PA of computer science, human-computer interaction, and design. He learned in September of 2006 that he had pancreatic cancer and in August of 2007 was given a terminal diagnosis and told that he had between 3 to 6 months of "good health" remaining. On the 18th of September of 2007 he gave one of the most upbeat and widely known and remembered lectures at CMU called, "The Last Lecture: Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams." It went viral quickly becoming a nearly instant YouTube hit which led to further speaking engagements and led him to co-author the book called The Last Lecture which would become a New a York Times bestseller which is where the above quote is from. Unfortunately, on July 25 of 2008 Dr. Pausch died of complications related to pancreatic cancer.
Why am I quoting him and why did I give a brief rundown of this one man's last years? Here is why: not only do I understand his Last Lecture in a unique way but I happen to have had a chance meeting with this incredible man many years ago. While at the time the encounter didn't mean that much to me, it has taken on a far more profound meaning to me in recent years. Let me explain...
As I previously stated, I had no concept at the time as to just how lucky I was to have crossed paths with this incredible man on the CMU campus one afternoon before he was diagnosed and long before he became a famous professor for his Last Lecture. I wasn't even in college at the time of our meeting. I was on that campus as part of an "accelerated and gifted" art program for high schoolers. I was a sophomore at the time and struggling with a great many personal things and wasn't really all that keen on even being given the opportunity to be a part of that program that took so few students.
I was angry. I knew something was physically wrong with me but couldn't find a doctor who believed me. I'd simply been diagnosed with depression, put on anti-depressants, and sent on my way. What we know now but did not know then was that I was suffering from an undiagnosed disease of the central nervous system: Multiple Sclerosis. It went undiagnosed for so long (it is believed I was between 8 and 10 when it first manifested) because at that time it was considered an adult disease and not one children ever developed. Due to that one very wrong assumption within the medical community and despite the symptoms I was suffering from, it was simply never considered let alone investigated. I'd given up on doctors and begun hiding my symptoms which coincidentally altered my artistic abilities. For example: I am MS Colorblind. There are certain colors I no longer see at all but I do still see many of them. The catch, however, is that most of the colors I see are muted in one way or another. A perfect example is a story my mother likes to tell about looking at dishcloths with me and my being absolutely adamant that they were very yellow when in fact, they were actually a very light tan. Reds and greens to me are often very muted or completely gray in color (different shades of red and green appearing as different shades of gray to my eyes). My personal version of the classic color wheel is very very different from the actual one. I often cannot distinguish the difference between dark blue, navy blue, dark brown, and black. This is a big reason why a lot of my artwork is done in black and white and if it is in color I often have to check with others as to whether or not it's any good or if I've over edited color changes. This was a symptom I'd likely had from the beginning without knowing it until the day the neurologist who finally diagnosed me tested my color sight only this time, unlike when you visit your eye doctor and they administer the "what number do you see" test, the answers weren't at the very bottom of the pages. However, I digress...
I was an angry teenager as I said which of all of the adults around me aside from my parents my then English teacher turned friend, Tom Breiding, can definitely speak to since he pulled my angry ass out of the fire more times than anyone can count that year. He's someone I owe a great deal to for standing up to my anger, recognizing that I was struggling with something, and being willing to take me on and fight for me. One day while at this program on the CMU campus, I got into a heated argument with the professor and we both agreed that I needed to cool off. I grab my things and started wandering around the campus. I eventually sat on a lower step of a random stairway and began to busily sketch in my notebook with the darkest of colors and thick angry lines. I hadn't even noticed that someone had stopped near me until that feeling of being watched finally sank in and I looked up with a jolt. I had no idea who the man watching my angry, thick, dark lines become a sketch was when he asked me if I was OK because I'd been sketching so hard that some of the lines went through to the next page. I'm slightly ashamed to admit that when my mouth opened to respond I released a fit of words, many of which he was in no way deserving to be on the receiving end of, but when I was finished he sat next to me with a look etched across his face which I can't quite describe other than to say that he seemed to understand. He waited a beat before asking if he could look through my sketchbook at some of my far less angry work which is when I learned that he had worked for Disney as an "Imagineer" (after first receiving a rejection letter from them the first time he applied) as well as Electronic Arts (an American video game company). He looked through my sketchbook and told me that I had real talent, could see why I'd been accepted into the "accelerated and gifted" art program, and asked if he could offer some advice. I freely admit that I really wasn't in the mood for any free advice, especially from a guy I didn't know which I'm sure showed on my face, but I nodded and listened anyway.
He explained to me that he could see from some of my artwork and definitely from the angry sketch I'd been in the middle of when he'd approached me, that I was struggling with something. He didn't ask what that something was but continued on to say that life often dishes out far more than we think we can handle and at times it truly IS more than we can handle. He said that when that happens often enough we can feel nothing but the weight of it beating us down. He went on to say first, that we all have choices in what burdens we opt to carry alone. Secondly, we also have choices in what we burdens we allow others help us carry. He also admitted that choosing to allow others to help us carry any of our burdens is an incredibly difficult thing to do for most people and he felt that I was one of those who had a hard time letting others help me in that way. And finally and more personally, he explained that I could basically either throw in the towel or say a big screw you to whatever I was obviously struggling with and all of the difficulties I had and pursue doing whatever I wanted to do. It was my choice and my choice alone. He then put an arm around me to give me one of those awkward sideways hugs, stood, shook my hand while saying "oh by the way, I'm professor Randy Pausch," and wishing me the best as he walked away. I had no idea just how profound a moment that had been at the time but I very much recognize it as such now.
Only a lucky few students, faculty, family, and friends would be lucky enough to have ever known in any way, let alone be in the presence of Professor Randy Pausch, and to learn from him both in life and through his death. I happen to be one of those lucky few all because I lost my cool on a different professor and ended up sitting on those steps. Why am I sharing this story now? What exactly am I trying to say? Honestly, I'm not entirely sure aside from the obvious.
We all have crosses to bear and burdens to shoulder and we all have a say in how we go about carrying and shouldering them. I suppose a part of me feels compelled to share this chance encounter because I'm currently shouldering a great many burdens. He hit the nail squarely on the head when he sized me up as someone who isn't very keen on asking others for or allowing others to help. I've been forced to learn but I'm still not always very good at it. Some of my burdens others can help carry but many of them are mine to shoulder and mine alone. I've been stuck in a medical hell for over 14 years between the MS, four bouts of sepsis (one of which had the entire hospital feeling certain I wouldn't survive it) and the infections that took my leg and are currently ravaging my right arm in an attempt to take it as well. At 33 years of age I know that I'm still young but I feel so much older due to what I've seen, where I've been, and what I've been forced to confront as far as my own mortality goes. Then when I thought things couldn't get worse, life threw the biggest grenade of all at me that I couldn't jump on and allow myself to take the blast to save her as much as I wanted to, with the death of my oldest sister in 2014 to cancer.
Lt. Col (retired) Andrew Lourake - the very first above knee amputee to pilot aircraft within the Department of Defense. He refused to allow his above knee amputation to end his career as a pilot in the Air Force. He mustered the strength and the resolve to fly again and eventually was assigned duties with the 89th Airlift Wing at Andrews Air Force Base where he piloted aircraft carrying such individuals as the Vice President, the First Lady, numerous US Senators and Congressmen, and top military leaders. When I began seriously considering amputating my right leg above the knee I came across Andrew's story which inspired me, proved to me that a full life could still be lived post amputation, and I sought him out on Facebook. I'd made a list of PROs and CONs in regards to the amputation of my leg to bring with me when I met with my orthopedic surgeon and he was on the very long list of PROs. Andrew once told me "a setback is simply a setup for a comeback." His words and the words of the late Professor Randy Pausch quoted at the start of this post stay with me. I may at times struggle and falter in trusting their words and have more than once thought it was all just smoke being blown up my ass, but both quotes are etched in my brain and in my heart.
Every person who truly knows me knows that I do not sugarcoat things. I'm a very black and white person (and no that's not a pun relating back to my MS colorblindness) and tend to be quite blunt. I suppose the other reason that I am sharing my experience with the late Professor Pausch is due to that very attribute and the fact that people often look at me and hear my story and see me as someone to look up to. I can't begin to count the number of times I've heard or read the words, "When I'm having a bad day or a hard time I think of you and what you've been through and how you still manage to find humor and love life and I realize my problems are so small." I appreciate what people are trying to convey when they say things like that but I'm the first person to say that it's apples and oranges. Yes, my struggles are intense and sometimes life-threatening ones but that does not and will not ever negate the struggles anyone else is facing. I'm also the first to admit that I struggle and I suppose part of why I'm writing this post is because the honest truth is that I'm currently struggling with everything. I am currently experiencing one of those phases where I'm unsure of how much more I have and can give to this seemingly endless fight.
I do my very best to live the words of both incredible men but am the first to admit that as time moves on and punch after punch comes it is harder and harder to stand back up. Quitting isn't in my nature but while I used to bounce back quickly from setbacks eager to make a comeback, regardless of how much I may want to continue to bounce back quickly I simply find myself unable to do so. I will bounce back and I will get back up, make no mistake about that, it simply takes far more effort and time at this point. The birth of my niece has definitely helped to jumpstart my comeback but for those who seem to think that I am invincible, have no fear, am "savage as f*ck," never consider throwing in the towel, and never have hard times all I can say is this:
I am far from invincible. I do have fear; sometimes great amounts of it. I can be "savage as f*ck" but am not capable of always being that way. I have considered throwing in the towel so very many times. I do have very hard times beyond the physical issues. I have some very hard times mentally and emotionally. I will always do my damndest find a way to struggle my way back on to my feet for as long as my body allows but I am also human and I will falter and I will scramble and I will fall down as I struggle back to my feet.
Professor Randy Pausch (October 23 1960 - July 25 2008)
Lt. Col. (retired) Andrew Lourake
