Well, I am just devastated with the news about Tai. My PTC experience under her compassionate and loving care is a mirror image of Bob Jernigan’s. She is the “poster child” for the definition of a guardian angel.For me, my serendipitous encounter with Tai was just one in a series of “minor miracles” that, if they hadn’t occurred, and occurred in the exact order in which they did, I not only would not have entered the doors of MDAPTC, but also, in all likelihood, would not have been chosen for treatment. My first epiphany occurred in September, 2006, with a phone call to my office from my wife, informing me that she had taken it upon herself to schedule my long overdue annual physical. PSA results indicated a third year increase, although the score was slightly below the magic “4.0.” My internist recommended a biopsy, and offered to refer me to an “excellent” urologist/surgeon in Houston. I discussed my condition with my “lunch bunch,” receiving “pro” and “con” feedback. I remember one friend’s warning, “If you do have a biopsy, and it’s positive for cancer; and if the urologist advocates surgery as the only solution; get up and walk out of his office!”So, I took my internist’s advice, and called the Houston doctor, but was told he was not in my insurance carrier’s network—another minor miracle. I thought seriously about blowing the whole thing off. Julie and I had a long weekend planned with friends in Galveston in October. I have several contacts at UTMB, and Julie suggested that, while in Galveston, I should try to schedule a biopsy on the last day of our trip. I agreed, and my biopsy was performed on October 12th. Four days later, the UTMB urologist called, broke the news, and introduced me to my new “indicator”—the Gleason Sum. He said my next step should be a bone and CT scan. So I had them done the next day in Lufkin, indicating the tumor was still confined to my prostate. In each case, neither the UTMB urologist nor the radiation oncologist here in Lufkin pressed me to choose any one treatment. They each provided me with written materials, and assured me I had the choice of several treatment options—another minor miracle.Over the next two days I read everything I could acquire about prostate cancer, and talked to friends who were survivors. The evening of October 20th, Julie and I were invited by our best couple friends’ to have dinner, and meet their couple friends visiting from Chicago. I was in no mood to socialize, and asked Julie to decline. At the last minute, I said, “what the hell, I need some comic relief,” and we decided to go (another miracle). Over dinner the subject of my situation finally came up, and I outlined what I believed to be my treatment options. Then another minor miracle occurred—the male guest from Chicago asked if I had considered proton therapy. I told him I’d never heard of it. He suggested I talk to a friend of his from Dallas, who had been through PT at Loma Linda. I said I would be happy to, figuring he would forget to give me his friend’s name and number, and I would more than likely not bother to make the call. The very next evening my new “Chicago friend” called, and said his buddy from Dallas was at his home waiting to talk to me. I gave him a ring, talked to him for about an hour, and when I hung up the phone, I was convinced it was “meant” for me to pursue proton therapy.I contacted MDAPTC to get the ball rolling, and was troubled by what I was told. My Gleason Sum was pushing the treatment envelope, and it might be several months before an appointment could be scheduled. Disheartened and frantic, I called a friend, and former member of the UT board of regents. She made some phone calls, and the next day I received a call from our beloved Tai Ly, informing me that my appointment had been booked for the following week—another miracle. I arrived at PTC with my own “self-righteous” game plan to ask a battery of questions, and “interview” the medical staff. When I told Tai of my intentions, she stepped out of the exam room, and I overheard her saying she needed a few moments alone with her patient. She stepped back into the room, shut the door, and in a loving way, but in no uncertain terms, set me straight about how I would conduct myself if I wanted to hold out any hope of becoming a patient at PTC. Luckily I was approved for PT, and I am convinced Tai Ly was “put” there to save me from my own stupidity.On February 14th, I drove to Houston for my first treatment. As I sat in the patient’s lounge, holding my bottle of water, I was approached by another patient—Frank Perez. I told him this was my first day, and he said, “Get up and come with me.” He took me back to the dressing room, and covered the preparation “drill” for treatment. After his session, he waited for me to finish mine, and I thanked him from the bottom of my heart for his help. He said, “No thanks needed, just promise me you will pay it forward to the next new guy.” And I did—to Richard the “Ragin’ Cajun” from Louisiana.Throughout my journey there were “miracles” and “random” acts of kindness that shaped its course. The “if” scenarios are too numerous to mention in this passage, but IF Julie hadn’t scheduled my annual physical, IF I hadn’t had the biopsy, IF the Houston urologist had been in my insurance network, IF I hadn’t gone to dinner with friends, IF I hadn’t talked to the guy in Dallas, IF there hadn’t been PT at MDA, IF I hadn’t had a UT regent for a friend, IF I hadn’t been assigned to Tai Ly?Well, it seems to me at least, that there may very well exist what some refer to as a “Devine” purpose.I hope I will never forget each and every one, but until I draw my last breath, I will always remember Tai Ly. Her kindness, her compassion, her comforting care, and her smile—bright as the noon of Creation. God bless Tai Ly…God bless Tai Ly…may God richly bless Tai Ly.Many years ago, a friend of mine shared his idea about how he thought we should live our lives. He said, “When we get to the gates of Heaven, there will be a sign posted there with only one question on it. It will ask, ‘Did you comfort the heart of JUST ONE person who had lost all hope for peace?’ ”
Thus endeth the reading of the lesson,
Buddy Zeagler
#696599
Tags: Testimonials by paljoe
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