Free It's Always Darkest Before the Fridge Door Opens: Enjoying the Fruits of Middle Age by Phil Callaway, Martha O. Bolton

squinted at a computer printout. ‘‘It says here it’s your left eye.’’
    ‘‘No, it’s not,’’ said Dan, ‘‘I can see fine with my left eye; please don’t operate on it.’’
    Of course, we’re able to laugh a little later about such things. But what about when the news is the worst possible? When a trip to the doctor changes everything we’ve taken for granted? While speaking at a banquet, I sat next to Ed, an oil executive, who told me his amazing story. One year earlier he sat in his doctor’s office listening but unable to process the doctor’s horrible words. At the age of forty-nine, he had colon cancer. The shock had only begun to set in as the doctor explained it to Ed’s wife. ‘‘The cancer is very advanced. I’ve seen other cases like this, and it’s highly unlikely that your husband’s body can fight it more than six months. We’ll do all we can to help him, but he had better get his affairs in order. I’m so sorry.’’
    After a sleepless night, Ed called his office. For the first time in seventeen years he would not be at work. His work meant everything to him; what would he do without it? He wondered how he would tell his three grown children. Though they lived nearby, they were almost strangers now. And what about the grandchildren? Would they even care? Though he had his secretary mail them birthday and Christmas gifts of her choosing, he seldom saw them, and he’d never been able to get their names straight. Should I call a minister? he wondered. But church hadn’t been a part of his life since his wedding day. He hadn’t the time for it. Besides, who would he call? What would he say?
    Thankfully Ed was wrong about all his apprehensions. His children were devastated by the news of his illness. For the first time ever they saw their father reduced to tears. And they heard the words he’d never told them: ‘‘I love you.’’ That night, an old friend from college called. He’d heard the news. He was a minister. Could they go out for breakfast? How did eight o’clock sound?
    The next day after breakfast, Ed booked twelve tickets to Mexico, enough to take his children, their spouses, and all the grandchildren for two weeks. It was a Christmas like no other.
    Though the doctor had done a painful colonoscopy, leaving Ed barely able to sit on the airplane, he had the time of his life. Surrounded by family, he began to wonder where he’d been all these years. He watched them frolic in the surf. He even went hang gliding.
    ‘‘It was the best two weeks of my life,’’ he told me. ‘‘I didn’t start living until I knew I was dying.’’
    Back home he went to see his doctor. He had never been ushered into a doctor’s office so quickly. Seated behind a desk, the doctor’s face was the color of a snowball. ‘‘Ed, I don’t know how to tell you this, but we’ve made a terrible mistake. We . . . uh . . . got the files mixed up. You’re healthy as a horse.’’
    Ed couldn’t bear to hope that the doctor’s words were true. He sat still, unable to utter a word.
    Finally he said, ‘‘You’re probably wondering about a lawsuit, aren’t you?’’
    ‘‘Frankly,’’ said the doctor, ‘‘we are.’’
    Ed smiled.
    ‘‘How could I sue?’’ he asked. ‘‘You see, Doctor, I was a workaholic. The only thing I valued was money. It was all I could see. Then came your diagnosis. It changed everything. I’ve made things right with my kids. I know my grandchildren’s names now, and they know mine. I’ve made things right with God, too. I’m going to church again. I’ve never been more alive in my life. I can’t thank you enough. The worst news I ever received was also the best.’’
    Getting up from his chair, he embraced the most surprised and grateful doctor in the history of medicine. Health is a gift, to be sure, but forgiveness, and a new grasp on what’s truly important in life, is even better.
    Adversity can make us better. We must be challenged