Part 24
"Finale"

Man, did it feel great to be home again. I thought I’d never get out of the hospital bed. Since I wasn’t in school and I didn’t have to work, I had plenty of time to recuperate. The only bad thing was that I couldn’t practice. After the surgery, it was a little hard to take in deep breaths. In fact, I had to bring a little machine home that looked like a bong. I am supposed to breathe in through it to measure how much air I could inhale. At the time I couldn’t do much. It would take some time before I could breathe like normal. Since I didn’t have my saxophone to keep me occupied, there was only one last thing I could do to pass the day by...play Nintendo! Hey, I earned it.

One problem did arise during my rehab session. I couldn’t lie flat on my back to sleep. It hurt too much. On my first night back from the hospital I tried sleeping in my old bed, but as I tried to lie down I discovered that sleeping would be a very painful experience. So what was the solution? Steal papa’s loveseat. Papa had this really nice chair which he used to watch the Mariners game. It is probably the most comfortable chair in the Puget Sound. That night we went over to mama’s and papa’s and loaded up the chair in my dad’s truck. Once we set it up, sleeping was no longer a problem. I could sleep fine and dandy with not that much pain.

As the week progressed my condition improved. I was able to move around a lot more than I used to. I could breathe in more air through the "bong". Even though I was more mobile, there was only one problem. I hadn’t taken a shower in several days. The last time I took a shower was the day of my surgery. It was now halfway through the next week. After much debating, my dad finally forced me to take off my week old clothes and get in the shower. This was actually the first time I got to see my new scar. It was pretty cool looking. I had a bandaged up scar from the top of my chest all the way down to my stomach. I also had two holes in my stomach from wear my chest tubes were located. It felt good to clean off all of that dirt and blood. I needed to, because on Friday I had to go back to PLU. The Jazz Ensemble (minus "Cliff Colon") was going to give their Winter concert.

On Friday evening I drove to PLU all by myself. I walked to the music building and went to the main lobby. As I walked in some friends saw that I was there and came and said "hi". Some of them gave me a hug, but I waned them not to hug me too hard. I didn’t want to slip open on them. Everyone seemed happy to see I was all right. Hi Cliff! Good to see you Cliff! CLIFF!!! Cliff’s back!!! Hearing people say this me really made me feel good and let me know that people cared for me.

It was kind of weird actually GOING to a Jazz Concert. I had always played at them, not attended. I sat in the back with Kelly and Gina. The band sounded great that night, and the new lead tenor player filled in quite nicely. Actually, Brooke was my sub for the concert, and I have to admit, she is a much better looking lead tenor player than me. :) Halfway through the concert, the director, Don Immel, got on the microphone. He started to tell the audience why "the usual" lead tenor player wasn’t playing tonight. He told my whole ordeal; the cancer, the tumor, the chemotherapy, all of it. He then told the audience my miracle, that I was completely healed and here tonight. He pointed to me and said my name to the audience. Everyone started to applaud and some people saw where I was sitting. I didn’t want to stand up or anything (it wasn’t my night, it was the Jazz Band’s) but I displayed a big smile across my face and worded, "Thank you".

I have been writing my story now for about four months now. It has been quite a ride for me to try and re-live these events. As I was typing each entry, I could feel the emotions that I felt during those times. Sometimes I had tears in my eyes (Judgement Day). Sometimes I was giggling (Testies, Testies, ...1...2). Other times I could smell the hospital room and medication. Now, I am not much of a writer. I don’t really like doing it. But I wanted everyone to know this story; after all, I don’t really talk about it with very many people (unless they ask about it). A lot of people that have been reading this are young people. I know what it is like to be young and not have a care in the world. I used to think that having a pimple was a big deal, or getting an "F" in school was the end of the world. Believe me it’s not. I’m not sure if all of you can actually truly understand what it feels like to have your life completely taken away from you, without experiencing it for yourself. I can write all day about "staying in the IV room for eight hours a day", but you don’t really truly know what that’s like unless it’s you that is plugged into the machine. Have you ever had to say goodbye to your family for what might be the last time? Unless you’ve been in a war, probably not. Well, cancer is a war. It’s a battle between your body and mind against fate. Now through this whole story I have tried not to go to deep into my religious beliefs, because I didn’t want that to take away from anything. I don’t really care what you believe in. Some of you probably think, "Cliff Colon is healed because of the advancement of medical science". Others might say, "One night Cliff Colon was touched with the hand of God, and now he is healed". I am not going to try to prove to you which idea is the "correct one". That’s not my job. I do have my belief, and that is that Jesus Christ healed me from cancer. I’m not saying that a big bright light shined on me (with a choir singing in the background) and healed me. I do believe that God guided the hands of the surgeons on November 10, 1998. I can hear some people saying, "Ah Cliff, that’s a bunch of hocus pocus nonsense. The surgeons did their job. The doctors gave you the right treatment, and now you are better". Yes, they did. Doctors these days have all kinds of advances that help cure cancer. They have medicine to take away nausea. They have medicine that can kill cancer cells. But one thing the doctors can not heal is a patient’s spirit. That’s not their responsibility. I should have been freaking out during that whole time. Oh no, I’m going to die. I’m never going to have kids. People are going to make fun of me because I’m bald. I’m going to throw up to death. But during the whole experience, I didn’t freak out. When I was in the doctors office hearing them tell me all the bad stuff, and my mom frantically asking me, "Cliff, aren’t you going to say anything?", I never freaked out. I had a peace about me, which kept me relaxed. For some reason I knew in the bottom of my heart that I’m not going to go out like this. I have a greater purpose in my life. This is where God comes in the picture. He acted in the places where the doctors couldn't touch. It’s the only way that I can explain it.

So to sum it all up, all I want every single one of you reading to do it to appreciate life. It can be a lot worse. As you are living your easy life, there will always be someone sitting in a hospital room just wishing that they could have a life like yours. If someone you know is sick and in the hospital, BE THERE FOR THEM. Even if you think that they could care less if you came or not, go! Trust me, the appreciate it. Life is such a grand thing. It’s unfortunately that some people take it for granted. Make the best of it!

That Sunday I went to church, not only to attend, but to play. When I arrived to church that morning, I noticed that there was a picture in the daily bulletin, and it mentioned that I was healed. Everyone in the choir/band was glad to see that I was playing that Sunday morning. After the announcements were over we played a bluesy little number called "God is Good" (All the time). As I was playing, I could feel the adrenaline flowing through my veins. Tammy (the music director) pointed to me to take a solo. I did, and I played from the bottom of my heart. As I was playing, I could hear the hundreds of people in the audience clapping and shouting as I was playing. When the song was over, people continued to rejoice. I could feel goose bumps across my body. It was finally over, and yet it was beginning at the same time. Cliff Colon is back!

THE END