MacGyver had completed radiation treatments with flying colors. Two tiny tattoos, one on each side of his derriere, were the only outside markings of 25 radiation treatments.
His surgery was scheduled for Wednesday, it had been four months since his diagnosis of (colon) cancer. Which still seemed like yesterday. The plan was to reduce the size of the tumor by radiation then surgery. MacGyver’s surgeon had requested that he takes radiation first. Doctor T. was strait foreword, soft spoken, ball headed and clearly confident! He described carefully how he thought it would go, but was also very frank when explaining that we need to be prepared for the possibility that MacGyver may come out of surgery with a colostomy or ileostomy, and/or the cancer may be farther along then he expected. Our future was in the hands of a total stranger and we had no choice but to put our faith in his assessments. Our life was dramatically changing again, and I was asking God for guidance, daily!
It was a cold, rainy, wintry January evening that Sunday. Our son bowled in a tournament that afternoon, and we were going out to dinner with friends. A celebration of sorts. The radiation was complete, and the surgery was in about 48 hour’s. We stopped to watched Billy Bob bowl then headed out to eat around six that evening. It was misting rain, and by the time we left the restaurant, the temperature had dropped considerable. We all talked about the days events, and raved at how good dinner was. We turned off the interstate, and onto the overpass now only about ten miles from home. Suddenly, the Chevrolet Blazer began to sway from side to side. I remember hearing someone yell, “OH…shit…. hang on!”
MacGyver and I were in the back seat. I was grabbing for his hand when I was suddenly shoved against him. My face brushing against his soft jacket as we were throwen from side to side. It was if we had been magically transported to a carnival ride. I could hear the metal groaning as the Chevrolet Blazer began to tilt. The groans turned into screeches with the sound of metal sliding across the pavement. A crackling replaced the screeching sound, as if someone was pouring hot liquid over ice as we traveled upside down the embankment, and then silence.
We slowly climbed out of the Chevrolet Blazer with the assistance of a trucker who had stopped to give aide. You could hear the distance sounds of sirens. The air was very cold with a slight mist of rain and ice that gently fell upon us as we ALL stood along the roadside shivering, and trying to comprehend what had just happened, while gazing down at the dark outline of the overturned Chevrolet Blazer. Illinois State Troopers arrived, and we were escorted to warm vehicles. “Everyone all right! Anyone need to go to the hospital?” One of them asked.
MacGyver calmly replied, “No thanks. I am going Wednesday.” To which I busted out laughing in hopes of fighting back the tears.
After seeing the Chevrolet Blazer on Monday, in the light of day, it was a miracle that none of us were killed or seriously injured. We arrived at the hospital early Wednesday morning feeling very peaceful, and a little sore.
Doctor T. came around the curtain and look at us both. “Any questions?” he said.
MacGyver quickly responded, “Let’s get ur done!”
I smiled back and silently said, “Thank You.”
Everyday is a gift!