From My Deathbed...

...well not really.

Still, you learn a lot when you are incapacitated. And I've learned to appreciate how paraplegics use technology to communicate their thoughts. The body may fail you, but if your mind is alive, you can still let people know what you think.

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There are some truths in life one should try to adhere to.

Never miss a wedding, because people remember those who miss their new chapters in life.

Never miss a funeral, because people remember those who miss the closing of a chapter in life.

Birthdays and anniversaries, truly depends on the people who celebrate them. Some regard these events highly, others don't.

But while these can be debated, there is one more truth I would add to the lot.

Never miss helping someone sick. Because? Well, read on.

For the past week, I have been exiled to staying at home, mostly on the bed, because I threw my lower back out at the gym. The pain was so excruciating I could feel myself age as I lost the fight time and time again to rise above it. The pain was like a cocktail of sharp injections up my spine and pulsating thumps that radiated from the lower back down to my legs.

Each time I stood to walk to the bathroom, gravity seemed to grow hands and they would pull my waist down to the floor. I felt with each step I was losing power in my legs. With each attempt, another battle was lost.

I was immobilized in bed for three days without food. In fact the thought of food made me feel like throwing up. It was pretty much a daze. I could hear the telephone and my cell phone ring, but I had no energy to pick it up. So pretty much no one knew I was in that state.

I remembered thinking, "So this is how old people who live on their own can die without anyone knowing. This is what happens when they become invisible".

Of course I was not exactly invisible. Push comes to shove I had relatives and friends I could call, had I forced the energy to get to the phones and dial. I knew however that I had my mother in me. No matter how bad a situation is, she would try to pull yourself out of it without resorting to charity or sympathy. Call it foolish, but my mother's pride has made her survive some bad medical and personal challenges. And I believed I could be the same.

By the fourth day, I ingested enough painkillers on an empty stomach to force myself to get medical attention. The doctor told me I had a slipped disc and swelling around the spine and that it would take a while to heal. This being a traditional clinic, was concluded without the benefit of x-rays. She put me through acupuncture and heat lamps. And for two hours after that, the pain did seem to lessen. But just for two hours after.

By the time I got home, it was back to walking in baby steps or like an eighty year old, and feeling like your stomach was dragging along the floor. Every movement had to be in slow motion, any sudden ones would be punished with a belting of pain.

I decided it was time to ask for help. Still wanting to keep my pride, I called an uncle who had the number to a traditional Chinese chiropractor who did amazing work on me before. My uncle said he did not have the number on him and that he would send it across in a text message. That message never came.

I called a few friends, and initially I got answering machines. Eventually they called back and they wanted to help. My cousin also offered to drive me to a Western doctor, but I declined, not wanting to be that much of a bother.

But knowing that I could depend on these individuals offered me a sense of safety and comfort; an assurance that I am not invisible.

I came to realize that invisibility is not a state of being. It is a projection placed upon you by the action of others. It is a true manifestation of the actual attitudes a person holds for another, it is the action that divides the room up into what matters and what does not.

My uncle called me again the next day, and asked me what really happened. I never got a sense that he was truly interested in knowing. He offered to come over and I said almost heroically, "I'll be ok". He was very quick to accept that. A little too quick. Sometimes, people in need will try to maintain a strong front to retain some sense of dignity in dire circumstances. But it is not hard to see the cracks in that. My uncle was not interested in the cracks.

So he offered to call the doctor for me the next day. Again, I never heard from him.

I got similar treatments from someone I thought I was close to in New York. Sure, the Big Apple is so far away and whatever can someone there do for someone in the Far East?

A sense of safety and comfort; an assurance that I am not invisible.

My friend in New York did not offer these to me. In fact, out of almost sixteen waking hours each day, the time needed to say 'hello, let me know how you are' was something that was hard to negotiate. All of the communication tools modern technology has created was not good enough to make that connection. They were not good enough because they were not used.

To be fair, he did call once in the early stages. I don't think he could tell how much pain I was in. What transpired after was like white noise that matched the white pain. And all I remember was this voice in my head screaming like there was no tomorrow. Begging for him to stop fighting me. Anyone who knows me would know the concept of begging and who I am does not tally. But I was begging. It felt like how I felt, how much physical pain there was did not matter. The emotional pain began to measure up. Any offers to make contact with me came with conditions. I was reminded by something I learned from a leadership speaker: if you can't prop someone up, don't bring them down.

I was desperate for compassion. Just being there, letting me understand that my health was paramount over petty squabbles would have been the deposit into an emotional bank he could draw on when he needed compassion and understand. I could not understand. How can anyone kick a sick person when he is down? Is there ever any justification for that? People may be upset or angry with another, and the reasons may be fair and clear. But I kept thinking between the internal screaming, that sometimes one needs to put somethings off to another day, in order to support another, in order to help him recover, for him to truly understand the meaning of love. This was not happening in this case.I could not understand why.

Thanks to this truly painful experience, I learned the attitudes my uncle and my friend in New York held for me, and saw quickly that in that I was in the box of what does not matter. I know both would say that is not true. But it takes real action to prove that statement.

No excuses, no judgement. You cannot matter to everyone. You can only hope those that matter to you will accept you in a similar vein.

Everybody leads busy lives, but if we don't put that on hold to be there for someone in need, then what is our place in the chain of humanity. What defines us as human beings if we can look the other way? When is it ok or not ok to look the other way?

Thankfully, there are many in the world who do not look the other way. In New York, volunteers offer shopping, food delivery and cleaning services to people with full blown AIDS who really have lost their independence.

A friend of mine, despite my protests and his busy schedule, came by last night at 11 p.m. to offer me groceries and a late supper. He also took out the trash. I was not the best company because half the time my body was having a war within itself. But the connection between me and the people living with full blown AIDS was not missed. I had to admit that I lost my independence. I needed help. And mother's pride had to take a back seat. And that was ok. It was ok because at least I had someone who would step out of his world to help me in mine.

I have always known that it's important to have good friends and family. But it is crucial to know who you can rely and depend on. Some people say dependability is a dirty word. I say it serves as a rock in your life, the foundation that allows you to move forward. Since no one does it or goes it alone, you need to know whom you can depend on.

So here is the truth I added to the lot, and the 'because':

Never miss helping someone sick because in the dark chapters of their lives, people remember those who offer a sense of safety and comfort; and the assurance that they are not invisible in spite of their lack of independence.

Thanks for reading.