By Wick Fisher
Moose Lake Star-Gazette 

Our Changing World

Wick's World


January 24, 2019

If I were a news correspondent keeping the world abreast of the daily situation in a place known as “Wick’s World”, this is what I would have to say: “The planet earth we call the world we live in continues to go about its business as usual. A brand-new human occupies Wick’s World. This member of my immediate family arrived either by stork or Frontier Airlines. The advent of this one kilo female, (she weighed in at 2lb. 3oz.) came three months ahead of schedule. The odds appear to heavily favor that it was the stork that was used as the delivery device because most people seem to be of the impression that the only thing Frontier Airlines arrives ahead of schedule is your luggage. I will gladly dispel that myth later.

A couple other members of my ever-encompassing family have been given the message that as time passes on, we must realize that every day brings us closer to facing our own mortality. They both have similar diagnoses. His came one year ago; hers, one week. These two people not only live worlds apart, they also are dealing with their life situations in two distinct ways.

He has a very strong mind set that he will beat this. Meanwhile, she has no fear of facing the “Lords of Death”. While she made peace with her situation, he has gone to battle. Both have dealt with these similar situations in their own particular way.

So far, he’s already bought one whole year of living. When he was told “You have a one in ten chance to survive this,” He replied to not only family and friends, but to the entire world “I’m that one in ten.”

With apologies to the other nine people in that statistic, I am very happy that my friend was the one in ten. He has survived that part of it. However, for him the end of the road is not quite in sight. There is more to come. He will find out in two weeks which fork in the road he will take. His past year has been a life of chemotherapy, radiation, operation and observation. Extreme pain, much vomiting, weight loss and lack of appetite have been complemented with opiates, medical marijuana and massive cravings for food.

Although this is very hard on one’s body and presents a tough life situation, for my friend, “It’s the waiting that’s the hard part, Wick. The not knowing.”

Generally, I am a four-hour flight away from the new baby and the old friend. Yesterday, that four-hour flight took fifteen. I got to the airport around noon and arrived back at St. Paul at three in the morning. My wife sacrificed the comfort of her bed to make sure she could do everything possible to get me home. My plan was to take a taxi. The situation I was in would make that very difficult. My cell phone and I were both very close to running out of energy. She set her alarm every hour to get the updates on my flight so she could pick me up when I landed.

Although the long and winding road Frontier airlines put me on seems to be the things that tales of disaster are made of, my story has a wonderful ending. I will tell it to you after I write a letter of commendation for the stewardess who got a standing ovation from travel weary passengers on that fateful flight that took us from San Diego through Denver, and back to St. Paul, Minnesota. May she be the guardian angel who watches as my family journeys in and out of this joy we call life.


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