Today is August 3, 2002, and the events of the past week have prompted me to reflect on several experiences. The 77-hour saga of the nine coal miners in Pennsylvania was nothing less than a total experience in hope, cooperation, and reaffirmation of mankind.
The technology that emerged was more than spectacular, one shaft in which to pump oxygen in to the miners, one to extract water away from the miners, and a separate shaft in which to extract the trapped miners. This exemplified the pragmatic use of modern technology that resulted in total success as all nine of the miners were safely returned to the surface of the earth.
When I began this story, my heart was not really into writing about the topics that I had in mind. Therefore, I wrote the two previous paragraphs, and it is now two days later.
I have been involved in two separate situations that have, without a doubt, touched my heart, and I have decided to shelve the other topics, for now, and write about the events that have transpired yesterday and today, and perhaps revisit the former topics at a later time.
I have become well acquainted with a young man from Evening Shade, Arkansas, and he has become a good enough friend for him to confide in me. This young man is thirty-three years of age as I write this story, and he gave me a videotape to view several weeks ago. The only stipulation that he asked of me was that I not pray for him when I watched the tape.
Sounds as though I am going to write about a porno flick or at least something very sordid. However, I agreed to the stipulation, and I brought the tape home with me so that I could view it privately. I don't make a habit of hiding anything from Joan, so I explained the situation to her, and I made her promise to abide by his contingency. She agreed, and we watched the tape together. As we watched the tape for the very first time, tears began to roll down my face, and I could hardly choke back the emotions that I was feeling.
This videocassette depicted this young man and two other young men performing in Nashville. My young friend was the vocalist, and he played the lead guitar with great skill as his friends from Cave City, Arkansas, accompanied him. One of the other boys was playing the base guitar, and the other one was playing the drums. My young friend showed such splendid vocal skills, and I must say, that he had great stage presence and an uncanny ability to control his instrument and coordinate his vocal skills with such ease. I was so touched by this performance that I must have watched it more than a dozen times. You see, he had written this fantastic sounding song while sitting on the steps of his mother's home, and the performance can only be described as "Professional."
So, what's so special about this story one might ask? Well, the tape was recorded when he was twenty -seven years old, and one month after this performance, he was involved in a head on collision which left him in a coma for nearly six months. His girlfriend was driving, and she was killed in the accident. When he finally emerged from the coma, he was forced to learn how to walk, talk, and perform every small task that you and I take for granted every day of our lives. He has been on several anticonvulsants and one major tranquilizer ever since I have had the pleasure of knowing him. I have known him for the past five years, or shortly after he became regulated on the medications that he now takes on a daily basis. These drugs have definitely dampened his personality somewhat, and he has become slightly slow mentally, but he is still one fine young man, and I certainly do treasure his friendship.
His family told him prior to his accident that they would have to pray for him for performing such music. That is why I felt quite honored when he indicated that he wanted me to see him perform prior to his accident, but I first was required to swear that I would not pray for him. Well, yesterday he came into the pharmacy, and I told him that I had a confession to make, and that is that I had prayed for him. At first he was so disappointed in the fact that he had put his trust in me, but when I explained that I had prayed that he would, someday, be able to duplicate the performance. His eyes lit up, and he relaxed as he saw that I was genuinely impressed with his performance.
When I asked permission to have copies of the tape made; he became very excited. It seems as though this was the only copy that he had, and he only let his closest friends borrow the tape since it was the only one that existed. As of this writing, there are at least four copies in existence, and I hope to find someone who can improve the quality of the video. The audio component is just fine, but if the video could be touched up slightly, it would be truly outstanding.
What a tragedy for such a gifted musician to have experienced such a life shattering experience just as he was prepared to emerge or explode onto the national scene! He would have surely inked a valuable recording contract with that performance, and by this point in time, his name would probably be recognized all over the world.
I have high hopes that he will someday be in a position to again perform as he did when he was twenty-seven years old. He has made such tremendous strides in regaining his ability to perform everyday tasks that I see no reason to abandon the hope that I now have for him.
Things are cool between he and I, even though I prayed for him. The prayers that I have said are nothing like those prayed by members of his family.
I would be really neat if I could, in the future, find a way to provide the video on this website, and who knows, with today's technology, it could happen! Now, I would like for each of you to pray for that to be a possibility for him too.
I visited with my friend from Evening Shade yesterday, and another astounding experience played out in the pharmacy today.
For the past couple of months a young couple from St. Louis, Missouri, began picking up medicine for, what I thought was THEIR grandfather. The grandfather of the young lady was recently committed to a nursing home, so it was no great surprise to me when the couple appeared with a prescription for a small quantity of a minor tranquilizer for the young man. However, an emergency room physician, with whom I am not at all acquainted, had written this prescription. The quantity looked smudged to me, so I called a nurse in the emergency room for clarification of the quantity. I found out that it was for ten tablets and certainly not for 1004 as it appeared on the face of the prescription. So, I filled it with ten tablets, and the couple left the pharmacy.
Shortly, they came back with another new prescription written by the doctor at the mental health facility. As I looked it over, I realized that it was for the very same drug, but the strength was half of the first one. I simply told the young man that his first prescription was double the strength of this one; so just break the tablets in half.
They left once again and took the prescription with them. I had no legal right to the prescription, but I felt it necessary to inform the second doctor about the existence of the first prescription and the fact that I did not fill but one of the two. This second prescription appeared to have an altered quantity also, and that is why I felt obligated to call the second physician. She asked if we should call the police, but I assured her that I would call every other pharmacy in the county.
It was then that I called my pharmacy technician aside and asked her if she knew what in the hell was going on. She, of course, had no idea, but she did inform me that they were not siblings as I mistakenly had thought, but fiancés who were breaking up. This explained everything I needed to know, and I became very concerned about this young man's well being. We tried time after time to get in touch with them on the phone, but the line was always busy
After another forty-five minutes to an hour elapsed, the couple came back into the pharmacy with yet another new written prescription. This one was written for an entirely different drug. and nothing was wrong with the way it was written. As I was filling this prescription, a plain-clothes officer entered the pharmacy. Fortunately, he is a close friend of mine, and he seemed to act as a buffer as three uniformed officers entered the pharmacy. The nurse at the hospital had called the Cherokee Village police department, who in turn, called the Highland City police department. The chief called me in the back so that we could have a private discussion. I told the chief that it was not a crime to be mentally ill, and I was informed that it was a crime to alter a prescription.
After this discussion was resolved, I went to the front of the store to sit and talk with the young man. It did not take very long for me to recognize that he was a Bi-Polar Manic Depressive patient. He broke down and told me about his horrible childhood, and I told him not to worry about all of the uniforms and the badges inside of the building, and that everything was going to be all right. He sobbed as he, his girlfriend, and I sat in the chairs and I did my best to assure him that things were going to work out for the best.
The next thing I knew the chief made the young man follow her to the back of the pharmacy to read him his "Miranda Rights." I followed them to the rear of the store, because I felt certain we were dealing with a true psychosis. I really don't think this young man knew what was going on as he tried to explain how he had voices emanating from the back of his neck, and tranquilizers seemed to quiet them down. He then started to talk about addiction, and I told him to "Shut Up!" That was enough without an attorney present, and the chief agreed to take him to the hospital across the street for reevaluation by the doctor who had written the third prescription.
I closed the store shortly thereafter, and promptly went over to the emergency room to see that he was to receive medical treatment rather than jail time. While I was in the hospital, I chewed the nurse out for calling the police in the first place, and then I spoke with the physician who had made arrangements with a psychiatrist in a nearby city at a mental institution.
My friend in the plain clothes agreed to transport the young man to the facility in the nearby city, and he, the chief, and I stood talking for a short time before the two men left for the mental facility. As I was walking back to my truck, my friend asked the young lady if she had decided to keep it, as he patted his abdomen. I said, "Oh Shit, there is another whole dimension here that I was completely unaware of!"
So, as I sit here tonight and reflect on the past two days, I am exhausted; mentally, physically, and emotionally!
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