One more thing

I really thought my last post would be my last post for 2001…but I just got off the phone with my mom, and I’m gonna get on a soapbox for a second.
My dad is a perfusionist. That means that he runs a heart lung machine during open heart surgery. Basically, when someone is having their heart operated on, my dad keeps them alive, running the machine that performs the function of their heart and lungs. My dad also helped pioneer this process called ECMO, which is extended heart bypass for newborn babies who have heart defects. ECMO has saved countlless lives since they invented it, and I’m really proud of my dad, and all that he’s done.
Ever since I can remember, my dad has been on call during the holidays. Before this year, I can’t remember the last time he wasn’t, and he gets called into the hospital every Christmas. This used to bother me, because I wanted to spend the time with my dad, until I thought, when I was about 15 or so, that while I was upset that my dad was not at home, he wasn’t at home because there was some other family who was hoping that their dad, or mom, or whomever was not going to die. Perspective is important, you know.
So here’s what my mom told me: My dad got called into the hospital at 3AM, for an emergency trauma surgery. One more note: my dad is one of the best and most respected perfusionists in the world, especially in California. He’s so respected and so good, that when George Bush the first was having all his heart trouble and came to Los Angeles, my dad was hand-picked to be on standby the whole time Bush was here, just in case. If you’re going to have heart surgery, you want my dad on the open heart team, is what I’m saying.
So he’s called in at 3AM, because there is an emergency.
This man and woman had taken their son and daughter to see a movie. On the way home, they were hit by a drunk driver. Their daughter was instantly killed, and my dad was called in because their son had massive internal injuries, and I guess he needed open heart surgery. I’m not sure what happened to the parents, but I do know that the drunk driver who murdered their daughter survived without a scratch, and was fortunately caught by the police.
I want you all to listen, now, and please think about this: life can change in an instant. One moment, you’re driving along, singing with the radio, or arguing about the movie you just saw, or simply sitting in silence, and the next moment your daughter is dead. Forever. Your son is clinging to life in a hospital, and you and your wife are never giong to be able to have a Christmas or New Year’s with both of them again.
I’m sure this happens all the time, because that’s what happens in life.
But this family has been torn apart because some stupid fucker had to drink and drive.
We all know that people do it. Maybe you’ve done it once or twice, and you’ve gotten away with it.
We’ve all heard the “don’t drink and drive” message so much that it blends into the background noise of our lives…and here is my wish: please listen to it this time. Please, if you or someone you know is planning to go out and party like it’s…well, not 1999…but you get the idea…please think of this family, and think of the loss of their child, and how preventable that loss was. Please don’t drink and drive, and please stop your friends from drinking and driving.
I know this sounds like a silly PSA, but I really do mean it. Thanks for indulging me.
Have a happy new year, everyone!