"Cut it Off"

It’s been two months since my brother lost his left leg to “gas gangrene". Like so many of us, I didn’t know what gas gangrene was – until it started eating up my younger brother’s left leg, it’s toxicity spreading inwards and upwards towards his torso, giving us less than 24 hours to make a decision to either cut off the leg or watch him pass away.

It isn’t everyday that someone has the opportunity (yes, I said “opportunity”) to face death squarely in the face and say “I am not going down without a fight”. But my brother did. Bravely, but painfully, he did.

The night before the original schedule of the operation, when we were pressed for a decision, I asked everyone in the hospital room to step out – my mother included. I wanted a moment with my brother alone.

He had been diabetic for the past 27 years – since he was a 10-year old from Zobel. During his years there, we had done what we could to make life more bearable for him. I still recall the numerous times I would get called out of class by my younger brother’s teachers asking me to administer the required dose of insulin when his sugar level went crazy. His classmates would watch as I took the syringe and administered the dose. At that time, he needed us to decide on the right dosage and to act for him.

But that evening, the tables were turned. He had to act on this decision himself.

So, with no one else inside the room but my brother and I, I gave him his options.

“It’s worse than we thought it would be. Dr. Balinghasay said that the only option is to operate tomorrow. It’s spreading too fast.

“But – the choice is yours. Just tell me you want one more week to try other non-traditionals, and we will. I will stop the doctors and I will sign any waiver for you. IF this is what you want.

“BUT, the danger is that you may not have one week. The gangrene may reach your torso in two or three days – and by then it will be useless to operate.

“BUT – we will support what you feel is best”.

I was afraid. My brother, when faced with situations less dangerous than this – had the habit of clamming up and shutting out the world – us included. To shut us out now would have been disastrous, as a decision had to be made.

And this time, it was a decision HE had to make for himself.

I was ready to pry a decision from his lips, anticipating his “shut-down”.

But in less than two seconds after I had finished my sentence, he spoke. And it wasn’t just a mumble of words.

He spoke seven words with a conviction I had never seen nor heard from him before.

“Cut it off. I WANT TO LIVE”.

I was so moved by his conviction, that I asked him if he wanted me to lead him in prayer, and he said “yes”. So I took his hand and prayed with him. And only when I opened my eyes did I see the tears rolling down his cheeks.

I stepped out of the room, and admonished my family: no one was to ask him about his decision anymore. No one was to show signs of weakness, regret, sorrow or any such negative emotions. No one was to cry – NO MATTER WHAT.

“If any of you walk into that room and starts to cry – I will remove you from the room”, I said. “That includes you, Ma”, I told my mother.

My brother made a brave and hard decision. And none of us had the right to make him feel bad about it.

A week later, he was out of the hospital. Dr. Balinghasay (himself a graduate of Zobel and a friend and batchmate of my brother and his twin) and his entire OR Team had done perfectly!

My brother is now getting back to his old activities – albeit in a wheelchair. A prosthetic leg is expensive, but he will soon have his own. Yet even now, one leg less, he “stands up” witnessing to God’s Love and Greatness. A week ago, I drove him to a CLP where he shared his life as a testimony to Loving God.

In the Bible, we are told by Jesus that if any part of our body causes us to sin, we must cut it off… for it is better to enter the Kingdom of Heaven lacking that body part, rather than to end up with your entire body in the bowels of hell.

My brother chose life. He had been battling diabetes for 27 years now. He was tired of it.

We may be facing our own “diabetic attacks”. Some of us may already have “gas gangrene” eating at our souls. Our lives may already be “rotting away” one way or another.

And we may be tired of it already, just as my brother was tired of fighting diabetes.

But he did not give up.

Instead, he chose to “cut it off” so that he could LIVE.