Paying it Forward and the Christmas that Almost Wasn’t!
How a Very Special Group of People Made a Huge Difference at Christmas Time: Paying it Forward and Being Your Brother’s Keeper
1994 and I stepped off a curb in Manhattan.
I had done it thousands of times on my way to my office at the American Museum of Natural History, to China Town for lunch, to teach my class at Hunter College, meet with a student, or on my way to Grand Central to catch the train back to Dobbs Ferry, my escape from the city at the end of each day.
On this day, I did something different, wasn’t paying attention and stepped off a curb higher than normal, the result was instantaneous. As I landed I felt a sharp pain, then a spasm that took my breath away, and finally, when I regained my composure, I knew I had been caught not paying attention, something all “bad back” sufferers learn to do early on.
All back pain sufferers know to be vigilant and prepare for the unexpected.
The second wave of back pain came next, almost as immediate as the first, immense and black. I almost passed out. I knew I was in trouble and barely remember making it back the Grand Central, caught a cab from the station in Westchester, and within a few days was back in Vermilion, Ohio, on my way to see my surgeon, one of the best in the world.
The results would not be good.
The vertebrae were compressed, something that happens as spines are fused and left to deteriorate over the years. The bolts that had invaded the vertebral bodies had taken their toll on my spine’s integrity and overall strength, more surgery was the answer.
Fast forward to 1998 and my introduction to pain management, at first a blessing…I could work!
1998 was an amazing year, leaving academia had been the most difficult decision of my life, it had taken me so long to get there and I love it, but I was heading for serious six-figure country and our lives were back on track, we were traveling, the kids were going to go to a great high school and on to college, all was right with the world.
Then? I had this pain in my lower back.
At first the back pain was a dull throbbing sensation, it came and went. I thought I’d pulled a muscle. The low back pain was a sort of burning, searing pain but there was that voice in my head, the signal that things weren’t quite as they should be…I ignored it and kept working.
By January of 1999 I knew I was in serious trouble.
I was barely making it through the day and I was running out of pain medication before the end of the month, not because of abuse but because the pain was bordering on horrific…I had a real problem.
I made an appointment and it took four months to get in to see “my doctor.”
Four months!
Then, I got the run around. “Scar tissue,” he said. “Get into the pain management program at the Cleveland Clinic and get off the narcotics,” he advised. I was definitely not getting what I needed from this expert, my buddy, my doctor, “my back guy!”
So, I went to see a doctor who was highly thought of in the area, and up and comer.
He said, “You have arachnoiditis, there isn’t much I can do for you.” Then, he confided, “I really don’t want to take you on as a patient, your condition is simply too complex for me to handle.“
Well, at least he was honest!
The first guy, my doctor, “my back guy,” was simply judgmental and, to my way of thinking, lazy.
I had to find someone else…but who?
By the fall of 1999 we had gone through everything, our savings having been built back up was now gone, my retirement that had been fully funded was first borrowed against and then totally depleted using emergency provisions; and, finally we sold the vehicles, we were at the end of our rope.
I felt doomed!
By this time the back pain was so acute it would bring me to tears, throbbing and burning would have been an improvement. We were using a urinal and a bed pan by then, the trip to the bathroom impossible to make, and I still didn’t have a doctor, other than my pain guy who kept upping the dosage to no avail.
It was coming up on Christmas 1999 and we were destitute.
By now, the city agencies in our small town were helping us with utilities, food, and other necessities; and, I couldn’t get out of bed. Thanksgiving had come and gone with volunteers coming in to drop off food and day-to-day living supplies, and I was on the recliner, covered with blankets, and wanting to die.
It was December 23, 1999 and I got a call from the kindest woman on the planet, she had personally adopted my family, directing us through the maze of programs and agencies in order to keep us afloat, Adele said she had something for us and wanted to know if she could stop by.
I said, “Sure, of course!“
It was the afternoon of the 23rd and I was out in the living room, my usual perch in the recliner, when she knocked. Adele came in, took one look at me and tears started welling up in her eyes, she looked away.
I felt naked, laid bare.
She smiled and handed Connie and envelop, Connie looked at the envelop, and then at me, then back to Adele.
Adele explained that the junior women’s organization had a raffle and auctioned off a custom painted bench…they had adopted my family and wanted us to have the $1700 they had generated!
Connie cried and I tried not to.
Adele smiled and cried, hugged Connie, smiled at me, gave my hand a squeeze and left.
We had Christmas, we had food, we had a little more time thanks to some very kind women, women who didn’t know what “Pay it Forward” meant, the movie hadn’t become folklore yet…they simply wanted to help someone in need, we were that.
April of 2000.
I found an amazing doctor through a friend, truly one of the best, and he and his associate saved my life.
You see, there was this staph infection, a staph infection they think was introduced back in 1994 when “my back guy” fused my spine after the argument with the curb.
It was not over after the first surgery, it took four more and massive amounts of Vancomycin to clean out all of the infection and save my life…but I had hope.
The next year, as we were about to be evicted, truly at the end of our rope, having found a doctor by then, and having started the road to recovery, it still a bit like being close to drowning, being able to see the rescue boat in the distance but not knowing if you could tread water long enough to hold on.
Enter the good neighbor program in our city, Catholic Charities, and the Junior Women again, they hadn’t forgotten.
Christmas of 2000 they adopted my family again and we made it, we had Christmas and we weathered the storm.
Three days from homeless, no food, no Christmas, and the women of Bay Village entered our lives again and made a difference they will never fully understand…or perhaps they do?
Another check, more food, and Adele, surely heading for Heaven, a true saint, saved us one last time…and it was enough!
In the end, I survived…obviously!
There were more health consequences, to include congestive heart failure and another major illness, to overcome. Yet with the help of some amazing people in our darkest hour, people who had no idea what “Pay it Forward” means but knew everything about being their brother’s and their sister’s keeper, we made it.
Now?
Christmas is upon us and life is improving daily, life is good!
You can make a difference this holiday season, it is not too late!
Call your United Way or Salvation Army and get the name of someone who registered too late to be helped, there are always a few, and adopt a family this year, make a difference and be your brother’s and sister’s keepers.
Pay it Forward!
You never know, you may get there just in time to keep someone from drowning!
Merry Christmas regardless of your belief or affiliations!
Happy Holidays!
John
Professor John P. J. Zajaros, Sr., The Bad Back Guy
216-712-6526 (home)
216-539-7412 (bus)
Skype: johnzajaros1
johnz#ultimatebadbackstrategies.com
I can work out again! Something I had all but written off and missed terribly!