Friday, March 14, 2008

Worst Day Ever - Joan's Take

Russians Sergei Grinkov, 28, and Katerina Gordeeva, 24, were an unbeatable Olympic pairs skating team in the 80’s and 90’s. They eventually fell in love, married, and had a baby girl, Daria. Daria was only 3 years old when Sergei, in the middle of a routine skating practice, suffered a severe heart attack and died instantly. In an interview shortly after this horrible tragedy, Katerina said she should have known that something bad was going to happen. She said life had been too perfect and happy for it to have ever lasted.

I don’t pretend that my story is in any way comparable to what Katerina endured, but the image of that tearful interview over a decade ago came racing back to me at the end of the day on March 19th, The Worst Day Ever.

Like Katerina, my life is really perfect. I’m married to a man whom I love more intensely with every passing day. We own pets that induce nothing but joyous contentment. Although my job won’t win me any Tony Awards, it’s perfectly suited for my “repetition-is-comfort” and “set-schedule” personality, allowing me to work with talented, funny people I truly enjoy. Long before March 19th, Alan and I would frequently gaze at each other over a couple of beers being enjoyed on our pool deck and agree, “We’re so blessed.”

The day started a bit off my regular schedule. I was training two new girls in my role that evening, so I didn’t have to be at work until after noon. I still woke up early and got my run out of the way so I could enjoy a few hours reading my book and relaxing before I had to leave.

Alan’s boss called while I was on the couch with Trixie and my book. They spoke only a few minutes before his boss got called away and told Alan he’d call right back. Alan hung up and joked, “Well, I guess I’m not getting fired today!” However, when the phone rang again, Alan took the phone in his office and closed the door. I wasn’t paying attention until I distinctly heard Alan saying something about “turning in his laptop.” My blood went cold. No way. There’s no way. I got up and poked my head in, and when Alan saw me he tipped the receiver away from his mouth and casually said, “I’m being let go – it’s OK though. Really. Don’t worry – it’s OK.” It must be exhausting to have to be that brave all the time. I knew he was being cheery for my sake, I knew this had to hurt deeply. My reaction was anger. What IDIOTS! Alan is brilliant. Inconceivable.

I drove to work in silence. The radio seemed too invasive, too loud. I spent the fifty-minute drive trying to prepare myself for change. I wasn’t worried about Alan getting another job, I knew he was a stud and would be snatched-up immediately. But we both knew that at his level, area manager, it would probably require relocating. I prayed out-loud as I drove, reminding God how much I feared change and how much Alan and I loved our life in Florida. I asked for His guidance and help in dealing with where He was leading us.

I told a few people at work about our situation, but soon I was doing shows and focusing on training, pushing it all to the back of my mind. After several shows, I checked my phone and listened to two frantic messages from Alan. Call Dr. Dobradin. The surgeon? I was going to see him in a few days – why call? But I called. He’s with a patient, can he call me right back? Why couldn’t the nurse just tell me what’s going on? It didn’t sound very encouraging. But, I had the next show to do, I’d have to call back after that.

I tried to focus during the show, but I felt like a zombie. When I got offstage, I sprinted back upstairs to the Kimberley “booth” to call the doc again. He was on the other line. Crap! Would I like to hold? Yes. Sigh. The booth that Kimberley (my stage character) sits in backstage is literally the size of a small closet. There’s one bare bulb that weakly illuminates the black walls and one chair. At best, it would be described as “bleak.” I’ve never really minded it before, but as I sat there, on hold, staring ant those depressing black walls, they appeared to be closing in on me.

Just then my friend, our head tech Richie walked by. Boy, was I glad to see him. His happy expression dropped when he looked at me. I blurted out something incoherent like, “Surgeon…called...I’m on hold.” Somehow he understood and quickly stepped into that tiny booth and grabbed my hand. Dr. Dobradin’s words, spoken in his thick Polish accent, were, “Well, the third time’s a charm. We finally figured out what’s wrong with you. The lab work came back positive for lymphoma.” Did I mention Doc Dobradin has the worst bedside manner of anyone in the entire medical profession? He said more, something about how I’d be seeing him again to get something called a “port” surgically inserted for my chemotherapy (!!!), but I had stopped listening by then.

Richie hugged me then went searching for Kleenex as I dialed Alan. I think his response to my news was, “You’re kidding.” It seemed too unbelievable. Then he told me to come home. But I had training! It never occurred to me that my boss would probably excuse me. Once again, in the T2 office, I explained the situation in fragmented sentences and told them I had to go. They couldn’t have been nicer. Ironically, my fellow cast members later told me that when they saw me abruptly and tearfully leaving, they thought it was because I was still upset about Alan’s bad news.

Alan met me at the door when I arrived home. He was so strong and calm. As we held onto each other, he gently said, “When this is all over, we’re going to write a book together about today. We’re going to call it, “Worst Day Ever.”

Katerina Gordeeva went on to perform solo in the “Stars on Ice” tours and eventually married and had a baby girl with another fellow skater. She landed several endorsement deals, launched her own fragrance line, and published two books, one of them in memory of her late husband. She says her greatest joy is the time she spends in her kitchen cooking with her two daughters. I don’t know her personally, but I bet if you were to ask her, she’d tell you that her life is pretty perfect, despite all that happened.

The single thought on my mind as I drove home to Alan that day was that my blessings had officially run out. I had somehow drained my lifetime’s allotment of happiness in a mere 43 years – now it would be all about hardship and disease. But in truth, Worst Day Ever has only served as a giant magnifier for the abundance of blessings still being bestowed. In the days that followed, Alan got an offer for an awesome job right here in Orlando in which he continues to thrive. After more tests and scans, we learned my lymphoma is low-grade, I’m not going to die and I am probably not even going to lose my hair when and if chemo is required. Sure, I still have some “poor me” days, but they always seem to get upstaged by the unavoidable positives; my creative and hilarious husband who diligently keeps up this amazing blog, my friends and family who’s collective prayer power could crumble walls, and a loving Almighty Father who is in complete control. Now if I could just win big on the penny slots…

So sorry Worst Day Ever, you have no power here…..

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Worst Day Ever - 1st Anniversary








Worst Day Ever…



I was in the office early because it was my 15th anniversary with Bennigan’s and we had just had a terrific St. Patrick’s Day weekend celebration the two previous days. I remember getting that phone call from my boss at about 8 am on Monday, March 19th 2007. He told me that the company was eliminating my position. For the first time in 15 years I was unemployed.


That sounds like a terrible day already doesn’t it. But Joan and I had been through our rough days before. Five years prior while selling our house we found out almost accidentally that a woman had stolen our house key and moved in illegally while Joan and I were living in an apartment waiting for our new house to be built. We were in serious trouble. But we kept our heads and maintained a united front as we made decisions that would impact the rest of our lives. We got through that, we could certainly get through this new challenge. Besides, I had known for some time that I would be in this position. I had been interviewing for months and was within reach of two excellent job offers. Not to mention that my old company was going to pay a very fair severance package. In fact I had little time to dwell on that morning’s “Wake-Up” call. I had an interview across town at 10 am.

Ironically I had started with Bennigan’s reluctantly. I had moved to upstate New York to be with Joan and was promised a job by my new Room Mate who worked at a high volume four star seafood restaurant down town. Shortly after moving I realized that I was being dragged along and went weeks with no job. Nearly everyday I drove past the Bennigan’s on Erie Blvd and sighed with a sense of inevitability. Grudgingly I filled out the application and was hired as a server. Eventually I took that little waiter job to a vehicle to travel four continents opening restaurants and training their managers from all over the world. I was running Orlando and most of the East Coast of Florida at the end. It had definitely been a good run.

It had been a good run so far for Joan and me too. We had met in 1979 and I fell madly and deeply in love with her instantly. I brag all the time that I can remember what she was wearing down to the piping on her shorts up to her retainer. She was a knockout. Through a series of unfortunate events we had been away from each other for nearly eight years when I started calling all the Donnelly’s in the phone book in Syracuse, NY where I had heard she lived. I found her, we spoke, and I fell madly and deeply in love all over again.

So my interview at 10 am was suddenly much more important that it had been when I initially set it up. It was with another restaurant company and one that I would have been proud to associate myself with. The interview included an assessment which went pretty well and the District Manager and I got along well enough for him to ask me to stick around and have something to eat with him. I was certainly looking good. As I drove home I remembered that it was also March when Joan and I moved to Orlando. I moved to New York to be with Joan, but I struggled with the ridiculous weather. A veteran of only three winters in Syracuse I was present for the coldest winter on record for Syracuse and the very next year we broke the snow fall record. Half way through the third winter I asked Joan to pick any warm city and I would convince Bennigan’s to move us there. Two months later as Syracuse broke the previous year’s snow fall record we moved to Orlando. Soon after we moved I asked her to marry me under the Space Ship Earth at EPCOT Center (because I was too afraid when we were in front of Cinderella’s Castle) and we were married in a Disney Wedding.


When I got home that day Joan was at work and there was a message on the machine. Joan had a third exploratory surgery during the previous week and we had been expecting some news from the lab. Joan was feeling as strong as ever but she noticed a lot of swelling around her lymph nodes in various parts of her body. Twice before the surgeon had removed nodes for testing and they were all filled with a fluid that was not harmful. After the surgery he had told me that the third one looked just like the others and was probably nothing to worry about, so we had not worried.

I played the message and Dr. Dubrodin’s thick Polish accent was broken by a wavering in his voice as he said nothing but to have Joan call him right away. I have heard people say that their heart fell but never knew what that meant until that day. I felt no pain but a hollowing out as though everything inside of me had been removed. I remember taking the phone in my hand and calling Joan at work to ask her to quickly call the Doctor before his office closed and hung up the phone.

As I waited for Joan to call me back I thought of her grandmothers who had both been taken by cancer; one of them from cancer in her lymph nodes. The wait was eternal.
When Joan called back she was sobbing. The news was terrible. Joan had Lymphoma and her surgeon recommended that she plan to begin chemo-therapy immediately. We were devastated.
When she came home we cried as we planned our next moves. It would be days before I even remembered that I did not have a job. Suddenly I realized how little the things around us really mattered. The massive house we live in, a 65 inch High Definition TV, our fancy cars and clothes. I did not care if I had none of those things. What I wanted was Joan. I remember so distinctly the exact moment that I realized that our worst case scenario after I lost my job was that we lose the house and cars and move in with one of our parents – both of whom we love. The worst case scenario for Joan’s illness was utterly unthinkable. Therefore Joan would survive and when we were completely sure that she would be fine I would find a job. I called the two companies that were preparing offers for me and told them that I would not be able to accept an offer.

But just as God had a plan to bring us together – twice – He had a plan for us to pursue Joan’s treatments and appointments and for me to get a new and better job. A former boss had reached out to me and eventually offered me a job making more than I had ever made and we would not have to move. My travel schedule would be cut in half and the new company, Cracker Barrel, was growing not receding. The pressure of protecting myself would be non-existent. My work situation just could not be better than where it was one year ago.


As we sit so close to the anniversary of Worst Day Ever I continue to try and draw a conclusion or make some sense of so much misfortune on one day. I think back to those two phone calls coming within hours of each other and try and draw a meaning or a specific significance from them. I can’t. Quite frankly I wonder now if we are not meant to draw a conclusion so quickly or maybe not at all. What the worst things do in life is make you realize how wonderful the good things are. Joan and I have had a story-book love and marriage. She had been my first love; we are living the American Dream. Why did it take a disaster for me to see how unbelievably amazing my life was? Norman MacClean said “When I was young, a teacher had forbidden me to say "more perfect" because she said if a thing is perfect it can't be more so. But by now I have seen enough of life to have regained my confidence in it.” No doubt. I wish my wife did not have cancer, but today my life is more perfect because I realize just how perfect it is.