By Ed Chasteen
“Darth Vader has taken up residence in your left kidney.” That’s what I heard, though my wife and son later as we compared notes said he said I had a renal mass. What to do about this invader, whatever the name, was now the question.
We could leave him alone, assuming perhaps that he was seeking refuge and intending no harm. We could then take a look every few months to monitor his behavior. Or we could probe his sanctuary to determine his character. A biopsy, Dr J. called it. But such a procedure might give a benign impression of his sinister intent. A third possibility was to cut him off at the pass. Remove his hiding place, lest he at some future time commence guerilla warfare.
I favored a waiting action. This was consistent with my long held practice of doing the least invasive thing. Having read much about the healing powers of image therapy, I wanted in my mind to picture Luke Skywalker doing battle with Darth Vader. I also wanted time to ride long distances on my bicycle, building muscle and stamina. Such treatment had been my only medicine for my MS for 22 years. A medicine no doctor had ever recommended. But more than sufficient for my need.
My family was not comfortable with waiting. At a Sunday afternoon gathering they were unanimous in recommending surgery. Dr. J had described the procedure: two small incisions to insert implements and a slightly larger one to remove the kidney, followed by one or two days in the hospital. Then home, not to lift more than 15 pounds for three weeks and not to ride. But free to go about in our town as before.
We found Vader’s hiding place about a month before I was planning to ride the MS-150 and before I needed to go see my mother in Texas. “No problem in waiting,” Dr. J said. “Call the hospital when you’re ready.” When I called, they gave me a Thursday. “Can’t do it, I said. Being in the hospital over a weekend is not good for a person’s health. Give me a Tuesday.” They did. But two weeks later. I was glad.
More time now to test my theory! I would ride thirty, forty, fifty or more miles every day for two months, growing physically stronger, and as I ride, picturing Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader doing battle. Luke winning.
We scheduled another photograph of my kidney just before the scheduled surgery. I knew the mass would be gone. Darth Vader would have been driven out. I was absolutely certain. We took the new photo. I was wrong. The picture was identical.
Those who know me know that I never expect to lose. I don’t think I lost here. I was wrong. But I didn’t lose. Here’s why. I’m much stronger than I would have been. These two months of long-distance and frequent riding have done wonders. The indoor bike I also ride in my house measures fitness level from 1-6, with 1 being the highest level of fitness. In the two years I’ve had this bike, I once got a 1 reading. Now, though, for the past few weeks, I get a 1 every time I ride. And I sometimes ride it several times a day just to prove to myself how fit I am.
And I have decided that Luke Skywalker is the winner. Problem was I didn’t recognize Luke for who he was. He is not the imaginary person in my mind. That mass in my kidney is not imaginary. This Darth Vader is real. So Luke must be real.
So on Tuesday, November 3 at 7 o’clock in the morning at Liberty Hospital, Luke Skywalker will don surgical mask and gloves and with minimal assault on my body remove Darth Vader’s hiding place, taking him with it.
I win again!
