Today, I can…. not without emotion, but I can….
We have been blessed as a family, with an out pouring of love and attention from so many people…. we truly are rich in friends. People have shared their stories, their grief, their words, their kindnesses, and some who couldn’t find words, shared love. And, all of it has made a massive amount of difference in how these days have gone. I can never repay that. All I can do, is hope I get opportunities to show others that same gentleness and compassion we have been shown.
Most people who read here, do so because of my Hashimoto’s disease and also those who work with Dr. Jack, or who hope to. And it’s no secret to anyone that if there was a Dr. Jack fan club, I would be president. I do nothing but talk about the help he has given me as a doctor, but today? It’s about Dr. Jack as a human being, as one of my closest friends. A friend I am eternally grateful for because I don’t know how I would have made it without him.
What no one really knows is that, when I showed up to Dr. Jack, it was with the true meaning of a phrase I see, used all the time in reference to people, “train wreck.” Yup….aptly described. I wish I could say all it was about was disease. No one will ever understand that except him and me, and he won’t ever tell you.
When he heard everything I finally told, he had a choice to make. He could have told me that it was hopeless, to find someone else. But instead, he has never stepped away from that challenge. I would not have blamed him if he did. There was more wrong than disease. And through our working together, he was a lot like a sculptor, chisleling away at layer after layer after layer of what was wrong. When he hit an obstacle, or something where I needed other kinds of help, he brought other people, all like himself. That would take a week of blogs. He has changed everythingggggggg for me, and I am better today, physically, mentally, spiritually, financially, socially, in every aspect of my life because of him.
I try to tell him that all the time, but he won’t listen…. he shuts me up, changes topics, moves onto something else. Modesty. He does not like to take any credit for my success, not just in weight, or disease symptoms, but all of it. He has been beyond patient with me, and worked past my stubborn nature, always honest, firm and yet very gentle. That could be a book.
This last two weeks? Not sure I have all the right vocabulary to accurately describe it. You see, little Russell, would not have even been of it had not been for Dr. Jack. I would never have even known him. Sara had fertility issues for five years and when she decided to make the big step and work with Dr. Jack, she suddenly got pregnant three times in the last year.
This last few weeks can only be described as the hardest, most difficult experience of my entire life. And Dr. Jack? By phone, Email and text, he has held my hand and Sara and Russ’s hand through all of it… I often think poor Dr. Jack, bet he is sorry he told me this phrase a long time ago…”You can email and text me any time you want.”
I kept texting him Monday, updating him on what was happening, messages flew back, “Keep me updated.” “My prayers are with you.” “Many prayers continuing, praying the physicians take the best course of action.” And so many more as things unfolded. So many more….
I was scared….really scared while putting on a brave face and he was my lifeline. I sat in that room pretending that Dr. Jack was behind me. That if I just turned around he, and my friend, Mark, would be standing there behind me. I told Dr. Jack that, in a text, that I was pretending he was with me as I tried to hang on, “I am,” he responded.
When the baby came, as we were hugging him and loving him, I sent Dr. Jack a picture. He told me his heart was breaking for all of us. And he kept reminding me that I am strong, to stay strong for my family. All the while all these things were unfolding, Sara kept asking me, “Mom, please tell Dr. Jack what is going on.” I would read his replies. We would lean on his courage and strength.
Sara and Russ and I talked about his love and care after the baby left us. When she returned home, Sara called him and asked him to come to the funeral, knowing he might well not be able to, he is a doctor, and time a huge commodity of his life. But he said yes, and we invited him to sit with us. After all, he was responsible in so many ways for the blessing of the baby’s life. And to us, he is family.
In the days that followed as we got ready for the funeral, he continued to hold our hands. When I wrote to tell him about sewing an outfit for the burial, he asked to see pictures of it. He asked to see the pictures taken at the hospital. 
He told me how nice the outfit was despite my own criticism of how I needed to do better and through it all, he just kept reminding me to breathe, to forgive myself for food mistakes, to be strong, to take care of my family and myself.
The day of the funeral, when he arrived, I wanted to run up to him and sob, but I tried to control myself. He came, as we did, dressed in blue. He walked in the processions as Russ carried in the tiny casket, holding my hand, and let me lean on him through that Mass. He rode with our family to the cemetery, he held my hand we all talked later at how his presence was a huge comfort in our car. He was so complimentary about everything, so supportive. He told me how he couldn’t believe my strength in reading at Mass and the eulogy at the cemetery.
I explained to him, I had no idea what I ate for a week, no clue, not if I ate, when or what. “You will rebound from this. Life happens. You are more in control than you think. You recognize what’s going on. Many people don’t. Start taking care of you.”
I tried to thank him. Sooooooo many times…. but instead of me thanking him, he sent this, “Just want to say again, thank you for including me today, I really appreciated it.” I said I couldn’t have gotten through this without you. “Yes you could have. The way you read in the church and at the cemetery you are much stronger than you realize.” Then after all of that? A beautiful planter came, one for both me and one for Sara and Russ with a card signed from Dr. Jack and his wife.
Dr. Jack keeps reminding Sara that the job is not over, that they still have work to do. This is no time to give up hope. His words have brought comfort and courage to her. And although their grief, mine and the rest of our family’s comes in waves, it is much easier to handle with Dr. Jack’s encouragement, and kindness. He makes so much feel better. One text changes so much.
Dr. Jack is everything a doctor should be, but he is also someone I aspire to be as a human being. You rarely come across people in our life who are that special. I am forever grateful for the day I found him, and even more grateful that he hung onto me, even though he could have let me go. More than my doctor, he is also my friend.
For holding my hand through this, for holding Sara and Russ’s? How will I ever find enough words to thank him for that? How can I ever have anything that will repay such kindness?