Ulcerative Colitis

I work the phones and pound out e-mail, but not a single company offers help.

"So what's a little diarrhea?

" the boy says with a grin.

"I'll be fine." Two weeks to go, and in America my father is suddenly hospitalized with the same illness that nearly killed him years before.

"How is it?

" I ask my sister on the phone.

"Not good," she says.

"What's that mean?

" "It means I'll keep you posted." One week to go, and I say farewell to my son at Narita Airport as he flies back to college.

He looks swell, but requests and gets a seat by the toilet.

I rush back home, where I still have 10,000 words before finishing.

Five days to go, and the school where I work on weekends telephones.

"Um, we can't find a replacement.

We wonder .

.

.

could you stay?

" "What?

Just cancel class." "We can't do that.

Think of our reputation." "Who cares about your reputation!

" "Think of your job." That makes me pause - to hear them say, "Won't you please find your own replacement?

" So I work the phones and pound out e-mail.

Meanwhile, off in the Pacific, a hellish typhoon turns toward Tokyo, due to hit land in five days.

Four days to go .

.

.

and 8,000 words.

I call the school back.

"All right, I found a guy who will cover for me.

But I'll owe him favors for the rest of my life." "That's OK," says the school.

"We found someone.

Weren't you notified?

" At the same time, our son e-mails...

Read more...