I used to wake up dreading the long day of work ahead, at one of the biggest cable companies ever established. I had learned my pace, and the pace of business. I was good not only at handling an angry customer, but at managing my time between crawling in the crawlspace, climbing my ladder, replacing equipment in the home and hurrying off to the next job site, and the next angry customer.

 I had learned how the strict metrics worked, and how I could beat them if I hustled, and used my troubleshooting skills quickly and effectively without getting caught up by the lengthy stories the customer would want to tell me about how many times their internet had went out over the weekend. I was becoming a beast, I was getting raises, awards, respect, I basically had the world in the palm of my hands after a few hard years of grinding.

 I had seen other guys like myself above me, that had just gotten a handle on their pace, and the only thing I ever saw stop them was an injury. As fun as it seemed to be out of work relaxing on the couch, I knew that the goal of making lots of money and climbing the ladder to success would be ruined if I ever sustained a real injury. Much less, I would be injured, which could prevent me from playing with my son Jordan who was just 6 years old. Or maybe just prevent me from doing normal things that everyday people are able to do. So naturally it scared me. While other crew members decided to go into leadership or other areas that I wasn't quite sure I wanted to be in yet, I found comfort in becoming a safety champion.

 A safety champion is a guy who has managed to prevent any injuries for an extended period of time, and maybe taught others the rules and practices of safety. Instead of giving speeches on E-waste, or on how everyone needed to fill out their time cards more accurately, I could speak about how not to drive distracted, or how to check for foreign voltage on objects so a tech wouldn't get shocked. Ladder safety was paramount since we climbed everyday, and honestly it scared me the most because the 28' ladder was no joke fully extended, and you could easily be killed if you fell.

 I had managed to pick up a few safety champion awards and a nice windbreaker pullover with the company logo, and a shield that read "safety champion" with a graphic of a lineman on a pole. It became my mission to never get hurt, and I was doing great at it. My routine had become a bit mundane but I was now living the easy life, knowing what I was doing, making every customer happy, making my bosses happy, and making a decent wage finally. What was next? I was being pushed towards leadership, being told I'm a natural leader, I was complimented, but feared dealing with the politics, as well as all the escalation customers, and I was told it involved a lot of work outside of work. Which I was not very keen on.

 I had an interview, and knew it wasn't right for me, but wanted to progress. I was effectively flailing, like a fish out of water, not sure which direction to go within the company, but needing to figure it out and commit soon. Little did I know what God had in store for me. Just around the corner would be a life changing event. It would not only solidify my beliefs in the Lord, but would propel me to new heights in my life and change my outlook on many things. Such an amazing series of events happened so fast, and were so amazing it propelled me to keep track in my mind, and tell every poor bastard who seemed the slight bit interested. I don't know if to just keep it fresh in my mind, or to share and see what people would say, since it was so out of the ordinary, I felt I really had a story to tell.

I grew up in Oakland California in the 80's. I was born in 1976, my father was a hippie who had dodged the draft and was a pretty socially aware guy who knew that fighting a war over political reasons was the last place he wanted to be. He wanted to be a rock star. Like every other hippie who worshiped Hendrix, he wished he could follow in his footsteps and rub elbows with the greats. He knew that if he kept at it long enough, and put it before every last thing in his life including his marriage and children, he would eventually break through. 

So my childhood was filled with living room jams until 3 a.m., funny smells in the air, long hair and sitting drinking Shirley Temples at the bar, trying to talk my way into having a few extra cherries thrown in, or maybe finding a slightly used tiny plastic sword used for olives in martinis, to take home and have my action figures dawn as their new mighty weapon. I used to learn how to break dance with my uncle since he was only a few years older than me, and we wanted to forge our own identities in our own age range and musical demographic.

 Not only did break dancing explode in the bay area in the 80's, but it made me feel like I was good at something. It was also a team effort, we could work on routines and put together coordinated dance sequences that would wow the crowds and make us feel a huge sense of accomplishment. Maybe we weren't going for the pros, but we were definitely gunning for any challengers, in any neighborhoods that thought they might have been practicing harder than us. My family wasn't religious, but they believed in God. We didn't go to church, but my grandmother would always mention the lord like you better not cross him. "You can do whatever you want behind my back, but the Lord sees all." She would say. While gazing at a beautiful sunset she might say, "Just look at the Lord's creations, aren't they amazing?" 

I knew my family believed deeply in the most high, but never saw a bible, never heard a scripture, never saw a cross unless it was Christmas time, or maybe someone had a gold necklace with one dangling from it. As I got older I began to weigh my relationship with the Lord, and knew that I wasn't completely on board with some old white guy, who somehow had a human son without having sex and sent him to earth, and he died for our sins or some junk. I had serious trust issues, my dad had cheated on my mother and me, and my little brother Ryan, he barely ever came home, and when he did he was drunk and completely ignoring me and the family. He was just there to play songs and tune up his guitar before he would leave again to chase his dream. 

As much as I hated the guy, I was rooting for him. We were poor. Dead broke, barely able to afford groceries, on food stamps, and my clothes barely fit.Yet I knew if he made it and got rich, that things might change, so I hoped he would get a lead every time he stumbled out the door with his amplifier and guitar in hand wearing his half buttoned hippie collared shirt and snakeskin boots. My father lied constantly and my trust eroded in mankind, and left me no room to believe that a bible written by man was all truthful. Yet somehow I still knew that on this beautiful planet there were patterns and purposeful architecture woven into mother nature at every turn. I wrestled with this and eventually knew there had to be someone or something intelligent behind it all, but the bible was written by man, so I was going to separate the two in my mind. 

God wasn't human, he never had a son, we was just an anonymous artist who maybe did have the ability to communicate with his own creations, but the book was all made up from stories and lessons people learned over time. A book of rules to live by collected over the ages, and revised who knows how many times at this point. 

While in my teens I had a flashback to a terrible day that had been locked away in my memory for ages. I guess I had chosen to block it out, and it actually happened. Back when my father used to play in neighborhood garage jams on the weekend, I remembered a very vivid and specific event. My father drove a white '67 Impala station wagon with a brown rust dot on the hood like a cow.

 It was perfect for him and packing all his equipment around, and on this specific day he parked in the driveway of the house he was jamming at. The neighborhood was unfamiliar to me, but I was accustomed to "toughing it out" and just rolling with whatever pops wanted to do. I knew we would be here jamming past sunset, so I decided to get comfortable and climb up onto the roof and sit cross legged on the passenger side to get the best view in the house. I was probably 5 or six years old, a scrawny little guy with a break dancing shirt on and an old pair of laced tennis shoes.

 My dad was jamming super loud, and a crowd was gathering. Not before long a small herd of neighborhood hoodlums decided they wanted my spot and scrambled up onto the roof where I was minding my own business. One of them sat right next to me, crowding my space, and his elbow bumping mine. He was at least two years older than me, and I knew that me holding my spot was just about over. Right then the kid decided to use his elbow and shoulder strength to shove me right off the roof. All of a sudden everything went into slow motion. 

If I had slid off the roof and managed to put my feet down, things might have not been so bad, but instead my butt stayed planted and he had managed to topple me over to where I was completely inverted upside down. I knew the concrete driveway was right below and my puny arms were not going to break this fall quickly and with enough strength. So I basically closed my eyes and braced for impact. Impact never came. A split second later I realized no impact, and I opened my eyes to answer the burning question WHAT WAS GOING ON? To my utter amazement I found myself dangling by one leg. 

Somehow my shoelace had managed to wrap itself around the unlocked door lock and suspend me in mid air. Even then I knew this wasn't possible so I did a mid-air sit up with one arm out to brace my fall still, and attempted to peer over the ledge and investigate. What I saw blew my mind. My lace had managed to wrap itself around the lock THREE times, which gave it enough strength to hold me up. As soon as I saw this it came unraveled and I dropped onto the one arm I had extended and screamed my head off. 

I fell onto my arm and heard a crack, I thought I broke it, but after x-rays it turns out I had only "buckled" it. Regardless it was a huge event at the party, I was screaming, my dad was mad we had to leave and he might be paying a hospital bill, and the other parents were all fired up with concern. During this vivid flashback I came to the realization that this just wasn't possible. It dawned on me that a higher power had saved my life that day. I could have easily died, or been seriously injured by a 6 foot fall onto my skull directly onto the concrete. Yet my shoelace had wrapped around the lock? Three times? How is this even remotely possible?!

 I never told anyone that story, and no one saw it all unfold the way I did, so I knew it was something people wouldn't believe anyways. I knew it was real. I kept it to myself, but I knew some other force had intervened, and gave me a second chance. My belief became more solid that day. I didn't care what anyone said. I knew that was a miracle. A real life impossible miracle that had actually happened in my life. It wouldn't be the last but it was the first tangible evidence I had that the unimaginable can actually come real. Not even necessarily for all to witness either, this was our little secret. I knew not to bother trying to convince others, I didn't need to.

 Back to present day, I am a top technician, safety champion working everyday for 10 hours rushing around like a chicken with it's head cutoff trying to please the company and walk the fine line of balancing my very brittle and demanding metrics. I decide to stop at a fast food place for lunch and put my order in. My AC blasting, I had my windows rolled up. When I approached the window, I rolled it only halfway down and extended my arm out to pay and grab my food. Resting the bottom of my arm on top of the window, I rolled my bicep on it's side as I brought my bag in and felt a great pain. A pain I had never felt before like I folded a muscle or ripped some tissue that just could not withstand the weight and angle I was demanding at that moment.

 I grimaced in pain and had to pull over to the side and grit my teeth and hold my arm for a minute or two rocking back and forth begging for the pain to go away. The pain subsided enough that I could fully continue with my day and not be afraid of not having full use of it to crawl, or climb. I was fine. Relieved, I figured the next day it might be very sore, but to my surprise it was just fine. The next few weeks and months went by without a hitch. No pain, no nothing except a stern warning to myself to never again only roll my window half way down when attempting to reach for anything. Ever. 

About 4 months in, one day out of the blue I peered down and noticed a lump. About the size of half a jellybean right on my left bicep. I poked at it a little and figured it was not painful, maybe it's a blood blister that took a long time to surface, although it wasn't really red and dark. I basically thought nothing of it and figured it just needed time to continue to surface. 2 weeks later it was twice as big, and once again I shrugged it off thinking "Jeez, it must have bled a lot or oozed internally and now it's all coming out". Which seemed like a natural and good thing to me at the time. All the while a time bomb inside me was ticking. 

I waited an additional 2 weeks and now this thing was the size of a large grape. Not knowing even what kind of health coverage I had, I figured I better start getting this thing looked at because it seemed far too large to be just a little fluid. I went to a doctor who told me imaging would be very expensive and that I would end up paying out of pocket anywhere up to 3 to 5 thousand dollars. I told him "That's outrages me, don't I have coverage?!" He told me that my kind of coverage did not cover imaging but that he might be able to let me sneak in the back and at least have a nurse use a sonogram wand on my arm. I could tell he was perplexed and worried but that his hands were tied and this was as much help as I was going to get. So I took it. The nurse pushed it around and rolled the machine over it a few times as I gritted my teeth in pain again after such a long time. She was very interested in it, but could draw no conclusions from images taken on such a crude form of technology. The doctor told me all his testing was inconclusive but that it's most likely not cancer, and just some sort of growth of scar tissue or fatty deposit from the trauma. 

The next day at work I was worried. This thing was growing and I didn't have 5 thousand dollars, to spend on just a round of imaging, much less any further testing or treatment. Luckily I had a good friend who I complained to named Lawrence Miles.

Lawrence had been a football player for USC before he came to work with us at the cable company, and he was a huge guy. He had torn his shoulder somehow and was needing surgery and told me it was going to cost him a 100$ co-pay. He laughed at my story and exclaimed "You must have the wrong coverage buddy! You need Kaiser!" He told me. I was so excited! The Lord must have been carrying me already because I looked down at my calendar and the new open enrollment for my health benefits was set to close in 3 days.

 I knew I had to act fast, if I got into work early enough the next morning I could change all my settings and hopefully be enrolled in Kaiser within a week. The enrollment took a week or so more than anticipated but went through with no more than a bit more money being taken out of my paycheck to have this amazing coverage. I was very thankful to Lawrence for telling me because I was lost, checking with other doctors, looking on the internet, just wasting time. He came through for me literally hours before a deadline that would have made me wait 6 more months before I could change my health coverage.

The testing began at Kaiser at the end of the third week, and now this lump was getting huge. It was nearing the size of a tennis ball and panic had begun to set in. I knew that Kaiser would be able to "drain" it or do something to shrink it so I was just banking on that being the solution. We did much testing and I was feeling light headed and so worried at this point the nightmare began to set in. What if this was cancer? What if this was a huge tumor and I was in danger of dying?

 I kept these unbearable thoughts at bay, just thinking that's impossible. I had just gotten married 3 months ago and toured the Yucatan with my beautiful wife. Any thought of leaving my 6 year old son while I went off to die was torture. My wife would be devastated, our whole happy life would be torn apart. I tried my hardest to keep strong and keep a level head as I went to meet with the doctor. I was in such a depressed fear, that it came as not much of a shock when the words left his mouth"I am very sorry Paul, but it does appear that we are dealing with cancer here." My current state helped ease the blow, I remember thinking "Great, just my luck". Not realizing the true severity of what was being leveled before me. I thought, "Maybe he's not sure, maybe a few more tests and we will see he's wrong."

 I was in denial. He continued to tell me that this was a rare form of T-cell lymphoma. At that point I started freaking out, and exclaimed "What?! How is that possible?! Are you telling me I got cancer from my truck window?!" He proceeded to apologize a few more times and tell me that everyone has cancer inside them, and sometimes it's just a matter of "activating it". I was speechless. I told my wife immediately, and she had the same reaction as me. "Maybe they are wrong". The doctor suggested that I get a bone marrow biopsy, which is where they drill into the middle of one of your bones and extract some marrow to see if the cancer has permeated the marrow. The marrow is where all of your cells are grown, there are billions of more cells in your marrow than there are in the rest of your body, and this is where they wanted to test.

 The next day my local manager immediately pulled me from the field, telling me that he couldn't risk having me get hurt further. I understood, but was freaking out again, because I had run out of vacation/ sick leave, and wasn't sure how I was going to handle all of this financially so suddenly. That seemed like the biggest concern in my mind for some reason at the time. I'll never forget how frustrated and scared I was that my routine was being disrupted and that my stupid paychecks were going to be disrupted. On top of all that I had just passed a level 4 technician test and class and metrics scale that was going to boost me to 29 dollars an hour. The most I had ever made. Yet here I am facing cancer, who cares about any of that! Silly me, I was just terrified and not wanting to let go of all I had built. 

The next day my beautiful wife and I headed to Kaiser for the biopsy. I'll never forget that day. Like something out of the twilight zone the doctor had told me that he was going to use a hand cranked drill on my lower back to get to my hip bone to extract the marrow with a small suction device. No "going under" or any operating rooms to come, he was simply going to use a local anesthesia and have me lay on my stomach right there in this small office. He said we would be done in about 30 minutes. This young doctor by the name of Kenneth Poon, could not have looked more than 25 years old. At this time I looked over and could see the reality setting in on my dear wife, as she began silently crying in fear.

 I was being tough but when my baby cries it brings me to my knees. At that moment feeling completely overwhelmed, I'll never forget the nurse. She looked at my wife and she said "Don't you worry honey, I don't want you to believe anything you see or here in this hospital today, although things might seem a certain way, this is all in god's hands. Make no mistake God performs miracles, and I see them almost everyday in this very hospital."

I thought how odd, I mean she's right in my mind, but I didn't think professional employees were supposed to go on about god and what he does. Nevertheless I knew she was right, and I lied on my stomach and closed my eyes.

I had asked the doctor what we were testing my marrow for, since I already had cancer. "Is this just going to determine how much longer I have or what?" I said. He told me that if my marrow was cancer free, then I could be my own donor. Which I was confused about. Donor for what? He proceeded to explain, and I wasn't listening. I had sunken into a deep depression. My fate had been sealed. Here I was with cancer, my wife knew it, I knew it, the doctors knew it. It was no longer a "They could be wrong." scenario, and I just knew deep down inside I was going to die. 

Our strength had just about depleted that day, and I caught my wife silently sobbing in the shower. She knew I was doomed. We had to be strong for my son, but we seemed to know what our future held and we could no longer look for ways out. We had always wanted one more child. We had a boy, and a little girl would be a dream come true. All that began to melt away. 

The rest of our family was in denial, always seemingly 2 steps behind us in the road to discover clues as to what we were facing. I hugged my wife in the shower and I told her, the nurse was right. This was in God's hands now, and all that happens here on earth is not by accident. He controls all outcomes, and he alone holds the keys to this door. If anything I knew I might just be blabbing to calm her down, and it wasn't working. Now I would have to find a way to tell my 6 year old son what I was going to be leaving him and the family soon. I never imagined such a pain in my life. 

My pride and joy, my wonderful loving wife and my amazing intelligent handsome son. How could this be happening? The next day after work, I walked in the door, my son so happy to see me. My wife distant, my happiness fake. I sat at my computer desk and hung my head. It was time to talk with God. It was time to ask him for clarity on this whole story. Had I done something so bad in life that I deserved this?

 I had a lot of questions, but when I sat to speak with him it went sorta like this. "Dear heavenly father I need you now more than ever. Please hear me, please tell me that you are going to give me some undivided attention. Please tell me you will focus on my left arm Lord, please tell me you will focus on me right now. I am not asking for any specifics, but I need you to save my life right now. For my son, for my wife, for my family. Not even for me but for the countless others who love me. I don't want to see them all suffer because of me. Please show me a sign, please father, please show me a very solid sign. I love you, I believe in you Lord, please help me." 

Now I have always looked at asking the Lord for a sign with a bit of skepticism. Either I felt it was disrespectful to ask the Lord to "prove it", or I felt that I didn't want to be too "hippie flower child" and be like "That leaf just fell from the sky!That's a sign!". But I needed a sign, deep down in my soul I didn't just want an answer I NEEDED one.

At work my bosses were being very nice and basically allowing me to just sit around the office all day. Which normally might be great, but for 10 hours it's practically unbearable. Not to mention, the dark thoughts of death and the aftermath kept wanting to creep in and grind me further down the rabbit hole. I wasn't going to allow that, so I tried to stay as busy as possible. I had asked my doctor about food remedies for cancer, and he said"There are none, you need treatment." 

I refused to believe that thousands of years of  medicine left us with no foods that would chase down and fight cancer cells. At the same time I also realized he was not at all allowed to suggest brands, or a new diet, or anything for that matter other than medicine. I started researching sound wave therapy which was supposed to use vibration and frequency to destroy cancer cells. Although on the internet I found the wide gamut of videos on it ranging from scientist writings, to crazy people with funny hairstyles. The doctor wanted to start chemo but I was terrified about it. Everyone I spoke to said things like "You know, my dad did chemo, and the cancer didn't kill him, the chemo did!" and "Dude chemo will have long lasting effects on your whole body, you will be a frail shadow of your former self!"

 So as I was mulling over all these scary thoughts, I was looking at my schedule to see how I could work some vacation days in my favor and then see what the doctors plan was. I noticed that I needed to be at work for 3 more weeks and my anniversary would come. Which meant all my vacation/sick days would be replenished, and I could use them all for hospital time . I was 100 percent exhausted on my previous allotment and if I took any sick days I would be in trouble. No one cares if you have cancer or not. Policy is policy. 

That day my doctor called and said "Paul we have to get you in here in 2 days to begin your chemo treatment." I was feeling rushed, and told him "Aren't there any other avenues or methods we can use to treat this?" He reluctantly said "Well, there are trials you can look into, but I seriously do not suggest wasting any more time, we need to get on this RIGHT NOW." I knew that this was serious, and he knew more than me, but feeling pressured is not something I respond to well, it's almost like a salesman trying to get me on his medicine, and in my pockets. Which is a petty way to see things, but this was a bit how I was feeling at the time. He had explained that in my window incident, I had crushed a lymph node. The cancer formed inside. Your lymphatic system runs throughout your body, and this meant each second that went by, could mean it was being carried through the subway system of my body, and dropping off passengers at every stop. Ultimately dooming me even more so. 

He began pressuring me on a time frame. He said he's going to put me in front of a group of people and get me in earlier than usual to begin chemo in 2 days. I told him I needed 3 weeks to replenish my sick days, and he lost it. "Are you serious?! Look Paul, I don't know what you have going on in your life financially, but this is more serious than ANY of that. I am your doctor and I am telling you, you need to let me address this AS SOON AS POSSIBLE." I understood his concern, at this point my own concern was becoming numb, and I guess he just didn't realize that policy is policy. I imagined myself being fired over a violation, and I had just made it to level 4 technician, and it would all be made official today when I signed paperwork. 

I wasn't going to throw it all away. I needed just 3 more weeks. 3 weeks seemed like asking for 3 years, and everyday I knew I would be risking the cancer spreading throughout my lymphatic system. "So let me get this straight Mr. Wood, are you refusing treatment?! Because I gotta warn you, not only are there risks involved but I pulled some strings to get you in earlier, and now you are telling me I did that for nothing." His pressure was pissing me off, I knew he might be right but at this point I needed to take back control of at least one tiny slice of my life. "Listen doctor, I have cancer, I seriously doubt that 3 more weeks in the big picture of things is going to make or break me. I have to comply with policy at my company, and when I can afford the sick leave, I'll be coming in."

 This would also give me a few more weeks of internet study to really decide how I wanted to treat this monster in my body. "Well Mr. Wood, I am your doctor and I HIGHLY advise against this, however I cannot force a patient to come in against their will, so I need to ask you one more time. Are you officially refusing treatment at this time?" "Yes doctor Poon, thank you for your concern, but at this time I must decline." I knew as those words left my lips I had just made a major decision that could take me down a very bad path in the end if I chose wrong. This was no choose your own adventure book like I had read in my childhood. This was real.

 Looking back I can't believe that I was putting my jobs stupid sick leave policy over my own health, but this happens everyday to ordinary people. After I hung up the phone the silence crept in. What did I just do? I imagined him cancelling my place in line immediately out of spite, and I knew I had just closed a door on no one but myself. Was I being stubborn? Was going against the wishes of my doctor really the smartest choice I ever made? Probably not, but I felt I had no choice. Also deep down I knew this was already out of my hands and God was in control of my fate.