We Will See What Happens To Me Tomorrow

It all started three months before. The headaches. I went to my local General Practitioner, looking for an explanation for the constant throbbing behind my eyes in the frontal lobe, going right through to the back of my head to the cerebellum.

She told me, "Well, there really isn't anything we can do for you here, in my office. I need you to go to a Specialist and get a CAT Scan." Nowadays, they are called a CT Scan for short. It is an X-ray image made using computerized axial tomography.

Once she received the results, she had one of her assistants call me directly at home. "Jim, this is Susan, from your Doctor's office. We have made arrangements for a room at the City Hospital for you. You need to go in right now and the Doctor will meet you there."

I checked in, and found my Doctor already in my room waiting for me, looking at my CT Scan. "Jim, sit down. We need to talk." So I sat down and asked my Doctor, "What's up? You're scaring me Doc." She looks at me somberly and says, "I'm sorry Jim. You should be scared. You have an inoperable brain tumor and I would estimate that you only have a month to live!"

I quickly went through the 5 stages of grief. First Denial. I told my Doc she is mistaken, and in not too kindly of words either. Anger. I was pissed off, at what I thought must have been an outside influence which had given me the tumor. Whom or what that was, I do not know. Bargaining. I started asking the Big Guy upstairs to give me another chance. I would do anything for another chance. Depression. Well, can you blame me? Acceptance. I told my Doc that I would stay only one night in the hospital because I needed to live my last few days to the fullest. After an hour or so of my Doctor and a Nurse doting over me, I was left alone in the room so I could get some rest. Of course I couldn't sleep. About two in the morning a man, dressed as a Shaman, came into my room. I stared in disbelief. After all I've been through today, now some crackpot, looking right out of a 1920's silent film about witch doctors, waves his hands over me, releasing a white powder over my bed sheets. He hands me his card and says, "If you want to live? Come and see me tomorrow." With that, he leaves my room. On the card, there was only a local address, nothing else. No name, no phone number, nothing. So that is where I am today. Tomorrow, I am going to find this guy, and ask him how he knew I am going to die, and what did he mean by, if I wanted to live? Of course I do. Doesn't everyone?

This is,

Will See What Happens To Me Tomorrow

And Then I Will Post It,

Jim Hauenstein,

And,

“Humans are a part of creation and shamanism is our way of connecting with the whole.”
- Will Adcock, -

This is the beginning of my story and I am sticking to it!

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