Faith Over Fear

Have you ever been really scared?  Not Halloween scared, but scared for your life…

Let me share a time in my life when I thought I was going to die.  As most of you know I’m a lifelong river rafter.  This is a story about how different people react differently in stressful situations.

My first experience in a 16 foot rubber boat traveling downstream in an occasionally torrential river was right here in Arizona on the Upper Salt River, which is one of the few designated Wild and Scenic natural rivers in the state.  The runnable section of the Upper Salt river flows 60 miles from the Salt River Canyon bridge to Roosevelt Lake with Class III and IV rapids.  It requires permits from the White Mountain Apache Tribe.

I was around 25 years old when my friend Steve Byers invited me to run the first 7 miles of the Upper Salt. Boaters can run the first 7 miles, sometimes a few times in one day.  But, if you travel past that point you have 3-4 days to Roosevelt Lake.  So, we were day trippers carrying nothing more than an ice chest with lunch and beers.

Also on the trip were Roger (another letter carrier like Steve and I) and a younger friend named John.  Roger and Steve had experience rafting the entire 60 mile stretch of river to the lake.  John and I were absolute first timers.  Steve was the true oarsman while Roger was more of the navigator up on the bow of the boat helping Steve read the rapids.  I now know the two of them played a little trick on John and I.  They told us the best place to sit was on the tube at the very stern of the boat.  Well, when we came to the first set of standing waves the bow went up the wave and the stern bottomed out sending John and I ass over tea kettle like a couple of synchronized divers.  I distinctly remember thinking that was hilarious and I quickly swam to the boat where they pulled me back in.  John, however, did not think that was funny.  He had a bit of a panic but was also pulled safely into the boat.  

The trip continued with John and I in a safer location in the raft.  Steve expertly guided us through Class III rapids and even an occasional Class IV.  We stopped along the way for lunch and a beer.  Without trying to date this trip I’ll tell you that my parents had given me their ancient Bell & Howell 8mm video camera that operated by winding a crank on the side of the camera.  Some of you know that camera!  I had been filming the adventure.

Everything was fine until we approached a rapid, appropriately named “Overboard Rock”. It was a huge rock the size of a school bus with the river slamming into the front of the “bus” then splitting 60/40 around either side of the rock.  Roger’s navigator voice seemed to rise an octave as he and Steve tried to determine how not to hit the rock and which side to take the raft around.  The river doesn’t have an opinion and before we knew it we were sideways in the center of the split where the river “pillows” up on the rock sending the entire raft upside down and all of us in for a swim.  

We were in the water so fast I didn’t even draw a full breath.  This time the current dragged me down and tumbled me underwater in a manner that I could not tell which way was was up or down.  I was underwater for almost longer than my breath would last.  My brain actually started flashing scenes from my childhood, like me riding a little kids bike too fast.  I remember thinking this was “IT”.  In the nick of time the river spit me to the surface and I sucked in as much air as I could but not a full breath because it immediately sucked me back down for another tumble.

Finally, it popped me back up and the rapid was over.  I had fallen to the left side of Overboard Rock and as I started swimming I saw the upside down raft ahead of me with two heads just out of the water clinging to the raft as it approached the next school bus rock.  I wanted none of that so I managed to swim to the left bank and as I reached shallow water where my feet could touch bottom, I began to crawl my way to the shoreline like a bad dog being yelled at by his mean owner.  

Once I got my wits about me I knew we had to take care of business.  The two heads clinging to the raft were Roger and John.  Steve was no where to be seen.  Meanwhile, the upside down raft ran up against the next big rock and the safety rope around the boat got hung up on a lower portion of the rock.  At this point Roger and John had climbed up onto the raft and then on to the rock and they had scrambled to the highest point on the rock.  The rapid was so loud Roger could barely hear me when I yelled, “have you seen Steve?”  He had a better view from up there and told me no.  So, I scurried up my side of the river looking for Steve’s life vest.  The longer he was gone the more dire the situation.

I told Roger and John to crawl down the rock to water level and free the raft.  Roger did that and as he reached to push the boat off the rock he put his other hand out for John to hold him but John was still at the top of the rock in a fetal position.  This is where fear became a reality.  In those days the common slogan to combat fear was, “Fight or Flight”. Roger and I were fighting, John was flighting.  And Steve was missing.

Roger yelled, “find some big sticks and toss them in the water so I have leverage”. I did find several and Roger was finally able to grab one to use.  About that time, Steve came running from upstream and he was OK!  So there we are, Steve on one side, me on the other and Roger and John stuck in the middle.  As we worked on alternate plans suddenly the boat rope must have broken and the boat began to float away.  Roger, being right there jumped onto the bottom of the boat which was currently the top of the overturned craft.  As the boat floated away from the rock we yelled at John to jump.  I was sure he was too scared.  But, much to our delight right before the boat was out of reach John ran and flew off that rock like Mighty Mouse and landed directly in the middle…of the bottom.

They managed to limp the boat to Steve’s side of the river than the three of them limped it to my side and we were reunited again.  Everything was gone, including my classic video I was recording.  We lost one oar but had a spare, the raft frame was mangled beyond repair and Steve gave it a ceremonial goodbye on the river bank.  We also were able to slowly and carefully navigate ourselves to our destination where our truck was.

My faith was sort of absent in those days.  I don’t remember praying that God would save us or that Steve would be alive.  But, I do remember fighting and I remember John’s fear.  He almost didn’t get back in the boat and insisted he was going to climb straight up the canyon wall where the road was several hundred feet above.  To this day we wonder if he even ever drank water again.  Meanwhile, Steve taught me how to row a raft and I’ve had a 45 year passion on rivers in Arizona, Alaska and even Canada.

When I relate this story to my current situation I realize it’s no longer “Fight or Flight”.  My life has become more “Faith over Fear”.  God is very much a part of this journey and he gives Diane and I comfort every day.  This is His plan and only He knows the outcome.  We are along for the ride and give Him the glory.  That’s why I don’t have much fear, I have faith.

Sorry that story was so long but I’ve always wanted to put it down on paper.  Diane’s sister Barb is back in town for a week and she sort of inspired this story to be told.  

Here’s a picture of Barb’s tattoo!

                                                          

Barb’s delicious sour kraut and kielbasa!

So, here’s a medical update:  We just returned from session #4.  Prior to the infusion this time they gave me some of the medicine (Benidril, Pepcid, and Tylenol)  they used in session #3.  They also slowed it down from one hour to two hours.  That worked very well but I did experience some nausea during the drip.  When it was over, during the one hour observation time, Diane went with me to the bathroom.  When I got in there I promptly tossed my lunch.  The only issue that also happened last time was my blood pressure was low and my heart rate high following the treatment.  Once again it took several extra hours and a bag of saline to bring the numbers closer together. I had been laying in the bed for so many hours Diane suggested we try taking a walk to see if that helped the numbers, and it worked.

The good news is I didn’t get admitted to the hospital. More good news is that my first post treatment CT Scan showed no significant size change either way on the tumors.  They called it “stable”. Also, my side affects the following day were non-existent.  I’ll take no side affects and stable cancer for the next 20 years any day!

Thank you for your prayers and love you send my family.