The Prison Bus Cometh

I remember the hydraulic swoosh of the big yellow bus door opening..the large black rubberized-steps staring me in the face…the soulless gaze of the bus driver staring down at me…the walk of shame down the isle, slowed by the shackles around my little ankles…there was no turning back. I was on my way to prison and no one heard my screams. Wrongly accused with no representation!

Kindergarten was hell. Ok, I know it wasn’t the state pen but it was a close second. I had to wear clothes and leave my animals to fend for themselves. I had to abide by rules and eat prison mush. I had to listen to the Warden tell me how to color within the lines…Oh no, this ain’t gonna fly. I had to find my escape route to get back to my life on the farm with fresh air and nothing but time. My time !

Then one day, Wilma joined the chain gang. And in one glorious, nauseating instant,  I had found my ticket to freedom…vomitus. Who knew 6 yr olds could have body odor. Who knew that body odor induced vomitus? Who knew that vomitus produced a Warden-to-Mother phone call and an automatic “get out of school free card”? Without the need for a shank, it was as easy as 1-2-3.   1) Hug Wilma in the cloakroom  2) Vomit  3) Hasta la vista baby !

I almost flunked kindergarten. My Angel of Mercy, the artist formerly known as Mommy, convinced the prison board that I should just be allowed to continue onto first grade despite missing 65% or so of kindergarten attendance. Now that’s a defense lawyer if I ever did see one !  So when I found out that I was returning to prison after “ time served”,  I informed my legal counsel…”You may be able to force me to go to first grade but I’m never going to college “.

Funny, how what looked like one thing , ended up being another. That prison bus liberated me. The educational system I so despised was my ticket to freedom. It allowed me the freedom to become a doctor and realize my dream of helping and healing. It was a life sentence of sorts, but a good one.

And so it goes with my MS. What looked like a death sentence to me at initial diagnosis,  a large looming bus ready to take me away, was actually just a paradigm shift in my life. Yes, I had no choice but to climb on board. . And yes, I resisted every step of the way with denial and anger and “why me”.

But now that I am on board, I realize I am not alone. I realize that it’s gonna be bumpy and out of my control. But this ride has created a new template for my life.  One that includes the need to reprioritize, to live more in the moment, to slow down and look around. There is no EXIT sign in sight but  that’s OK.  I don’t need Wilma, or a shank, or vomitus…I just need to enjoy the ride, do my best and be joyous…Who knew?

3 Replies to “The Prison Bus Cometh”

  1. I hope names have been changed to protect the innocent stinky kindergartner!!

    This one made me laugh out loud sister!

  2. I remember the days of the tricycle and damned ants. Also, the minimal amount of clothes our country summers gave us. Diapers and plastic pants. No t- shirts and baggy underwear, shirts and bare feet. Dirty sweat from a great day outside at the farm. Grimey feet, necks and hands. Exciting days of exploring hidden gravel lanes and old oil well stations. Where does our childhood go? Well, it follows us to adulthood and old age. My dear little Lisa will always be my little baby sister. She grew to be a fine doctor, wife, mother and my gift from God. My sister, Lisa is a ray of sunshine and cheer to all wherever she is. No one would know she struggles with MS. No one would understand what this woman will do to beat this disease. She keeps her own counsel. She is very quiet . She focuses on keeping her good health with intensive physical activity. She never whines or focuses on her struggle with MS. No one will know the difference between the before MS and the after MS of Lisa Cunningham because her loving heart is part of my heart and all whose lives she has touched. Always making her family and friends come first while she fights her disease. I believe she will fight for her health forever while fighting for other’s illnesses with love, compassion and her natural love for all people. What a fabulous Doctor she is. It is in her heart and soul forevermore. Her MS doesn’t stand a chance to win the fight with my strong and beautiful sister. I know in my heart that she will win. No doubts! What a gift she has been to my life. There is no one like my baby sister yelling st the damned ants.

    1. Another day of forgetting that my little sister is fighting a dreadful disease. I think about her MS infrequently because it doesn’t affect her loving heart. She walks endlessly with her truest confidante, Amber , her beautiful dog. Amber may be the only earthly being who really knows how her lovely life has been affected. Amber knows. More afternoon naps, more time with her forevermore companion, More frequent and long walks with her master. The disease has actually helped Amber spend meaningful hours alongside her Lisa. The help each other continue on their path to fight the evil force. I have never witnessed the constant inward and outward compassion they have for each other. Unimaginable loyalty. Helping each other live health oriented lives. Bringing their individual knack for helping others. They are both extremely beautiful. I can’t express their closeness. Amber has had many trials with her own health. Her master saw that she would live her wonderful life as a dog. After rereading this entry into Lisa’s blog, I realize it has all been about Amber and Lisa’s loving loyalty to each other. Lisa has inherited our father’s sense of loyalty to the family while crying silent tears of personal depression. No one knew, no one knows. Thank you Amber for continued loyalty to my little sister, Dr. Lisa Cunningham

Comments are closed.