Roger

[Slammr (imported)]

When Jesus was over yesterday, I tried to tell him a story about a boy I once knew, but after 13 years, I found that it still aroused such an emotional response that I couldn't tell the story for crying. I'm going to post it here because everyone should know about Roger.

Roger

A few times in our lives -- if we're lucky -- we meet exceptional people, who change our lives just because we've met them, because knowing them makes the world seen to be a better place. Roger was such a person, although in the strictest sense, I never actually met him. Still he changed my life. After 13 years, I think about him. I tried to tell a friend about him, but I was so overcome by the feelings that surfaced I had to tell the story between sobs. That's why I'm writing about him instead. Although my eyes are blurred with tears, I can type without talking. It's easier this way. Perhaps I can write the story better than I could tell it.

First, I should tell how I came to know Roger. I had moved from Portland, Oregon, and was working on a ranch near Medford. A fourteen-year-old boy I'd known in Portland was visiting me. One night he woke me up, telling me he couldn't move. He could flop around some, but he couldn't sit up or even raise an arm.

I carried him to my car and drove to the emergency room at the Medford Hospital about 25 miles away. Completely paralyzed, he was flown to Portland the next day, where doctors found he had a congenital defect, which had caused a blood clot on his spinal cord at the neck. We soon learned he would be permanently paralyzed, a quadriplegic.

I couldn't have loved this boy more had he been my own son. His becoming paralyzed perhaps affected me even more because it had occurred while he was visiting me. In any case, I was having difficulty dealing with what had happened to him. When I saw other boys his age, I resented them because they could walk and he could not.

The year was 1992. I had a computer and was connected to the Internet through Prodigy, which then was little more than a text based message board. I began visiting some of the boards where people posted who had disabilities trying to find out what to expect, because the boy, Lynn, had become withdrawn and wouldn't talk to me when I called. One of the people who responded to my questions was Roger.

Roger was easy to find on the message boards. He filled them with long cheerful posts, even flirting at times with some of the girls. At first, I couldn't understand what he was doing on those particular message boards, whose members either suffered from some paralysis or whose loved ones did. He seemed to be a normal, happy, teenager. I guess I resented him because I was looking for others who were as miserable as I was.

People on the message boards were helpful. They explained to me that Lynn's reaction, his shutting out others, was normal, that given time, he would come out of it. He was having to adjust to a reality that only a short time before would have been beyond his comprehension. At some point, Roger began responding to my posts both on the message boards and by e-mail. Through our correspondence I learned that Roger was perhaps the most severely disabled person on the message boards, yet none of that was ever evident in any of his messages, which were not about what he was suffering, but were attempts to cheer up and help others.

Roger was born with cerebral palsy. Fourteen years old when I came to know him, he could only move two fingers on his left hand. He pecked out his messages using a stick he held in his mouth. He admitted that some he had written me had taken him four hours to write, but he never failed to respond to any e-mail I sent him.

I learned that Roger was adopted. His parents had taken him knowing how severely disabled he was, knowing he would probably never live to be eighteen. Roger was the second such child they had adopted. His older brother had died the year before.

Besides being paralyzed, Roger was unable to speak, had a defective heart, was in constant pain, and was on a respirator much of the time. He hated the respirator; it kept him awake; still, he loved life and tried to instill that love of life in others. He had frequently been admitted to the hospital, often in a coma, on the verge of death. His mother had asked him if he was tired of fighting, whether he wanted them to let him go, but despite the constant pain or the respirator, he chose life each time.

His physical limitations didn't extend to his mind. He'd begun communicating with his mouthstick, typing out words on a pad when he was two. I've met few adults who were as wise as he. He wrote poetry. Only in it did I ever see him complain, and then, only once.

I never saw a picture of Roger. He once described himself as an ugly quad (quadriplegic), but I think he was mistaken. The Roger I knew was beautiful. I can't imagine him any other way. One day I had an e-mail from him. "John," he said, "I have to go into the hospital for a while, but I'll be OK. I'll write you when I get out."

Roger never returned home from hospital that time. He never made it to fifteen.

My friend, Lynn, is doing well. Although he's still in a wheelchair, he was married last year and now has a child. Last summer he participated in the Olympics in Greece, playing for the United States on the wheelchair rugby team.

[radar (imported)]

What a lovely and touching story, Slammr. Thank you so much for sharing it. It's astounding how people with even the most severe disabilities can so positively affect the lives of others, if only we give them that chance.

[Leona Lee (imported)]

Hi Slammer! I have M.S. and have many friends with this treacherous desease. Sometimes I'm ashamed for even feeling the slightest bit sorry for myself when I think of other's like your 2 friends. Goodness, I'm still running my business by myself. I fall down once in a while but Praise God, I'm still getting work out. Everybody is Happy and I have much to be thankful for. Thank you for the wonderful post.

Big Hugs, Leona

[JesusA (imported)]

This is a powerful story. Roger has clearly made a difference in the world. It is a better place for his contributions. The story was moving when Slammr first told it to me, and it is even more so in its written version. I plan to pass the story along to friends. Thank you for sharing it.

[Blaise (imported)]

This is a moving story. I add my thanks for your posting it. I sent it to a conservative Christian friend (a woman I have dated and very much love) who just discovered that she may have CADASIL and has responded by responding in trust to life (and God). My friend accepts life and much hardship with immense grace.

Again, thank you for sharing this account.

[Riverwind (imported)]

Thank you Slammr

and

Thank you Roger

[Slammr (imported)]

Thank you Slammr

and

Thank you Roger

Any time I begin to feel sorry for myself I think about Roger and his example. I can't even imagine being as disabled as he was and wanting to go on living, yet he did. Perhaps, it was because he had never known anything else. Still, he was an inspiration, not only to me, but to many others. I've no doubt that he talked many people out of committing suicide, and he was a 14 year-old boy, who was unable to speak.

Although Roger's heart, defective as it was, killed him, he had the biggest heart of any one I've ever known. He was truly one of the most unforgettable people I've ever known. He lives on in my memories, and I'm certain, and the memories of many other people. Certainly, no one who ever met him, could ever forget him.