Thirty-six years ago, I sat in my den and innocently began reading the “C" volume of our encyclopedia set as I was doing a book report on Christopher Columbus. Moments later, my life would drastically change as I would come to the term “cystic fibrosis.” It was here that I would read “People with cystic fibrosis don’t typically live to the age of 25.” I remember reading the sentence over and over and even saying it out loud a few times hoping that I had read it wrong. When I confronted my parents, my mom cried and my dad didn’t know what to do. I ran up to my room and slammed the door and began planning my funeral in my head. I don’t remember ever crying so much and ever feeling so alone.
It’s been more than three and a half decades since that day and I still remember how hopeless I was at 7 years of age. I try to provide hope for so many people now but I feel like I owe it to seven-year old Andy to give him hope too. So crazy story, today I snatched a DeLorean, sped up to 88 mph and I’m back in my house on West Fontainebleau Drive and the year is 1980, or as my daughter calls it, “The Olden Times.”
Andy, don’t freak out. It’s me. Don’t say a word. Let me talk. I don’t have much time.
First off, I’m you 36 years later. Please don’t make fun of my grey hair or my $5 haircut. By the way, it’s $18 now. Where I come from it’s May 5, 2017. In case you can’t do the math and if I remember your math grades, you can’t; you’re 43 years old and you are not dead. Your humor? Well, that’s another story. I know that encyclopedia scared the crap (don’t tell mom I cursed) out of you but don’t get down. Here are some things to know. Tomorrow morning, our dad will get you into baseball. I know you hate sports but baseball will change the way you feel about them and the way you feel about your father. You will become very competitive and it will help with your fight against cystic fibrosis. By the way, loving sports will not skip a generation. Just be ready for your son. That’s all I’m saying. Hint: Go Panthers.
You know how you have that dream when things go bad and a little girl comes to check on you. Well, she’s going to check on you tonight. Don’t be afraid to ask her to help you. She’s someone very special. In fact, 20 years later, you’ll start a big charity event because of her. She’s the only other person in your family that understands what it’s like to have cystic fibrosis.
Don’t let people tell you what you can’t do. Show them what you can do. Statistics are just numbers. I probably shouldn’t tell you but you do end up finding someone very special who will love you for who you are (hard to believe I know) and you will eventually have children. In fact, this weekend we start the playoffs. Why does that matter? You’re helping coach both teams!!! I would ask for lineup advice but you’re probably not the one to ask. By the way, both of your kids are good athletes. Let’s credit that to your wife’s genes.
Here is some more insight into the next 36 years. There is not a cure for cystic fibrosis yet but we think it’s close. I know you are afraid to talk about cystic fibrosis and don’t want to know any more about it especially after reading the encyclopedia but you are going to take charge of it. In fact, you, your family and friends have raised $3.2 million for the CF Foundation to combat it. I know your mom is upset tonight but she plays a big role in the event’s fundraising. You are very lucky to have the parents that you do. You may hate reading now but you’re writing your 4th book as we speak. You hate being in a crowd of people so of course now you’re a public speaker. All of our sports teams suck. Some things never change. By the way, watch the Sugar Bowl over and over this year. I don’t want to get you down but it might be the last time we can celebrate a national title. In a few years, your reign as only child will end and you’ll be glad it did.
There is so much more to tell you but I’m out of time. Take care of yourself. Give Howard a big hug for me. He’s been peeing a lot in the basement by the way. Don’t tell mom.
Oh, and don’t tell anyone about our conversation. They might think it’s a bit strange.
Ok, gotta put some more Plutonium in the DeLorean. Go get ‘em, buddy! You’ve got a disease to conquer…and you will!
