two weeks

Like I did before the surgery, I both dread the prospect of the treatment ahead of me and feel eager to start it.  I’ve been reading a lot about chemotherapy and have read all kinds of stories.  I’ve read about chemo brain, I’ve heard stories about weight loss and fatigue, but one thing I learned but never truly understood until recently is that every person handles these things differently.  I can look up chemotherapy on the internet twenty-four hours a day for the next two weeks and still not know what’s really ahead of me.  Maybe it’s futile to try to predict how it’s going to go for me.  If anything, all of this information is making me paranoid.

I was feeling particularly doomy on Friday morning after doing some research.  Ryan was working from home and the boys were getting restless, so I decided to take them to the Bishop Museum.  We arrived right after opening, so it wasn’t very crowded.  In the science adventure center, I noticed a couple and two little girls.  The male half of the couple looked very familiar.  It took me a minute, but I figured out who it was.

It was Dr. Michon Morita.

Zachary was born with a skull deformity.  We were told when he was a week old that he would need reconstructive surgery.  We were referred to Dr. Morita.  He was very highly recommended.  We heard from the parents of other patients that he not only did top-notch work; he was also lovely and kind and professional.  During Zac’s recovery, all of the nurses in intensive care gave glowing reviews of Dr. Morita’s work.  He truly was a nice guy, and I like to think that Zac is a living testimony to his prolific skills.

I was too shy to approach him.  I was sure he’d worked on so many kids that he would never remember me anyway.  I was trying to figure out how to strike up a conversation when Zachary approached Mrs. Morita and started telling her everything he knows about volcanoes.  I took this as an opportunity.

“Is your husband a neurosurgeon?” I asked.

She said yes and I told her that he had worked on Zac.  I instantly was so glad that I had asked.  She called Dr. Morita over, and they smiled and talked to him, and Zac was so charming.  We all had a great conversation about Zac and our family and the doctor seemed so happy.

I was reminded of that time; of the surgery, and his recovery, and the fear I felt then, and the joy I felt watching Zac recover, and I decided that running into him was a sign. Some kind of sign.  I may not have fully worked out this whole God thing yet, but I know someone’s been listening to me when it’s counted, and I’ll keep asking for guidance.