For the first 15 years of my Dad's working life, he worked as a steel rigger, riveter, and welder. He worked on bridges, malls, power plants, refineries and large office buildings. For a large part of that time, he worked with and around asbestos. In fact he remembers cutting pieces of it to rest his head on while he ate his lunch.
My impression is that the companies he worked for knew the dangers of this material since some time in the Twenties. However, he worked most of this time without a hard hat or ear plugs ( he is essentially deaf today). So of course there would be little concern for the guys who were exposed profoundly to asbestos.
All the guys my Dad worked with have asbestosis, mesothelioma or reside in a coffin. The smokers are long dead.
My Grandfather died in 1968 from complications from stuff he inhaled drilling a railroad tunnel in West Virginia in the Thirties, so my family is not new to this. Whatever he was exposed to killed my Grandmother, possibly as she breathed it in as well, hand-washing his clothes. All of my uncles on both my Mom and Dad's side who worked construction have been struck by this disease. Only one Uncle remains and my Dad.
Fortunately, several years ago an attorney in Salisbury, North Carolina kept running into these old construction workers who were dropping like flies from asbestos -related diseases. She went to work for them. My Dad received a settlement but more importantly, he received a little yellow card that covers all of his medical care, if he ever develops full-blown Asbestosis. For years he has gone for a scan, that showed a band of material in his lungs but, it was not active. He has not needed the card.
Well, he needs it now.
Every morning he wakes up and coughs. Once he has coughed up about a cup full of fluid, he is ready to face the day. He still loves life, works in his garden, participates fully in the life of his Church, speculates on real estate and complains bitterly about the state of politics in America. He loves his grandchildren very much. He is still pretty hot for my Mom as well. He will go again next week to see his pulmonologist.
At Christmas, he asked my brother and I to speak at his memorial service, my brother to give the eulogy and of course, for me to preach.
It could and should be quite some time before I have to prep that sermon. My Mom seems nervous, but wise enough to let him do what he wants to do.
I write this today to help process what is going on in my heart. I am a free-market capitalist and I tend to be a libertarian. However, failure to act on behalf of one's workers is a very bad thing. I can't help but wish for the bosses to have cough up a lung everyday for the rest of eternity.
My Dad is still quite the jolly fellow and handles this stuff much better than I do. He believes (rightly) that heaven will be a big reunion and that Jesus will see him safely to that reunion.
Pray for us.
No comments:
Post a Comment