An Unexpected Roommate
Sometime in between all of the tests and treatments to find out how soon my body needed new organs, I was told that undergoing a kidney and a liver transplant would entail clinic visits twice a week for six weeks post transplant. After a transplant, and especially of two organs, a lot of care and attention is given to make sure the body accepts the new (foreign) organs; anti-rejection medications and lab work are required for life.

     My heart sank. This care would mean driving 2+ hours back-and-forth from Abilene to Ft. Worth. There was no way I could do this driving because I couldn’t even walk without a walker and my car wasn’t in great shape. I honestly felt like it might be too much of a burden for my family to help me with this. I was worried about the money involved as well as the time.

     When I mentioned this to my social worker she told me about the Twice Blessed House. The hospital had access to six one-bedroom apartments for transplant patients in an apartment complex a few blocks from the hospital. Even though the hospital was given a good deal on the rentals, it would cost me a fair amount of money to live there for six weeks—cheaper than staying at a hotel room. 

     I took a moment to soak all this in. Between watching TV and playing one of those dumb adventure game apps on my phone that sucks money out of you like old arcade games did, I mulled things over. What this all meant was that there was no longer a question of whether or not I was going to get a transplant, only a matter of when and what I needed to do to prepare myself for a life beyond transplant…especially immediately afterwards.

     I called my mom to let her know about the development. My social worker had mentioned that I must have a roommate. I told my mom that my first thought was that maybe I could stay at my friend Tim‘s place if he was OK with that. Or perhaps not for the full six weeks (he has a wife and two teenage kids), but perhaps for a couple of weeks and then may shit to someone else’s home if I could find somebody else who lived in the area. 

     “Well, let’s think about it,” mom said. “This might take a little while or it could happen pretty quickly.” She was right. The doctors needed to run lab work for my latest MELD score to see how bad off my liver was. I was told that I would definitely be put on the list and possibly near the top. My kidneys were failing me and dialysis had become a regular occurrence. I’d had ascites for a while and paracentesis and thoracentesis were no longer very productive in draining my body of peritoneal fluid.

     “I’ll do it. Don’t worry about it.  I’ve already talked with dad about it. I’ll come out there and stay with you after your transplant.”

     “Really?”

     “Yes, of course. You can’t be staying with Tim‘s family. You shouldn’t be worrying about any of this anyway.”

     “I just didn’t know what else to do. I mean I’m running so many tests and doing so many things and…”

     “I’ve talked with your social worker. I just need to have a background check done and then she’ll put us on the list.  Let’s just pray that one of the apartments will be available after your transplant.“

     My mom had been a nurse for over 30 years in Hendrick Medical Center in Abilene.  She was the perfect caregiver for me. I felt so much relief knowing that on the other end of my transplant I would be taken care of.

     “Okay. Wow. Thanks so much, mom.”

     “Just think. We’ll be roommates.”

     “For six weeks.”

     “Yep.”

     Doodling is fascinating to me. I liken it to the sport of soccer. Why is soccer (known globally as football) the most popular sport in the world? It’s pretty simple. All you need to play soccer is a ball and a place. A field is preferred, but it could be played on the street or in your home or in a garage--basically anywhere there’s just enough space to kick around a ball. You don’t need big goals with nets. On a field, many kids will grab sticks and lay them down to signify goals. 
    What do you need for doodling? All you need is something to write with and a place to write it. Pen, pencil, chalk, paint, charcoal…anything with which you can create images/words. You can create on paper, napkins, concrete, walls, sand, dirt… Dirt? Yes, grab a stick or just use your finger and trace images in the dirt on, say, a soccer field. That way you can get the best of both of worlds I am comparing. 
     Why do people doodle? Why do teenagers doodle on their book covers, students during lectures on their syllabus, people on long phone calls, on to-go menus, people at bars on coasters and napkins. An endless list of doodle where and why to doodle.

     My first committed true creative outlet came when I was 14 and I just couldn’t stop writing short stories. I read a lot of books of the mystery and horror genres and with all of that input, I needed an outlet for my own imagination. Over the course of about a year I wrote approximately 150 notebook pages worth of short stories. 

     Although I did take an art class my sophomore year in high school and I’ve always dabbled a little bit in art, writing was my main passion. I worked hard on our high school literary magazine and became one of the chief editors my senior year. By that time I was writing more poetry than short stories. But, I also acted in our plays and in some short video pieces. I really wanted to do it all.

     In college I continued writing short stories and took classes in short story writing, as well as poetry and screenplays. My attention shifted from writing to wanting to make movies. So, I changed my major, dove in and began writing, directing, acting and editing in my own films. To top it off, I worked on other people‘s films. 

     Beyond college I still made lots of short films and I wrote scripts for my sketch comedy troupe Hoover’s Blanket. I also jumped into improvised (comedy) theater for about eighteen years and performed in over 1000 shows during that time. Improv is an amazing creative outlet and I happened to find myself in a couple of good troupes and duos. These collaborations were accepted into various improv festivals across the country. Confidence Men: Improvised David Mamet was my favorite troupe and we were selected as the best improv troupe in Austin, Texas, for two years straight.

     In addition to performing, I directed some shows and coached a bunch of troupes. I created and performed in a bunch of beautifully crazy one-off shows. Improv made me a better actor and a better short story writer. Short story writing and video work also helped improve my improv.

      Improv is interchangeable with just about any other form of creativity. It teaches you to make decisions quickly and perform them in myriad ways. It taps deep into your subconscious to turn up the material you are going to need right now. Then the next moment and then the next moment and the next. It is an art form where you are writer, director, actor, collaborator. and editor. Right now. Yes, go. Do it. Right now! People are watching you!

      Having to create a story out of a simple suggestion with other people in front of a paying audience is the most blissful kind of nerve-racking energy in the world that I would go through every weekend. Sometimes there were failures and sometimes there were huge successes. But those in-between times you were just doing what you could do with your partners to survive in the moment. In the end, after every show, all of it was scrapped to move on to another show. Totally disposable, totally addictive. Totally a lifesaver for me and many other people.

     For various reasons the amount of improv I did begin to decrease tremendously. I didn’t even realize how few shows I was doing in comparison to the past. Things in life such as relationships and trying to find work took up more of my time and I was becoming ill without really knowing. My energy was being zapped.

     I started doodling. I went to a dollar store and bought a bunch of ink pens and poster board and just started drawing. I had always liked drawing when I was growing up but I definitely was not an artist.  Not like many of my friends I have known over the years who are tremendous at painting, sculpting, drawing. All of it. 
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     In 2019 I moved home to live with my parents. I never went to the doctor to find out what might be wrong with me because I kept thinking it would be something to just pass. But I definitely was not myself in the eyes of those who knew me…I truly realized a couple years after the fact. I couldn’t find work and so I dove into Doodle Art. And then I started sharing doodling with my friends through the mail. I really enjoyed it and started thinking that it might be something I could possibly do for the rest of my life.

     If I could figure out how to make it into something more than just sharing doodles. In other words, a job of some sort. Income. I started doodling more with friends and family and gradually got more and more sick until one afternoon I was found passed out on my bed with an extremely low blood pressure and was whisked off to the hospital. A couple of days later when I came to, I found out I had cirrhosis of the liver and double pneumonia. Doodling would have to wait.

When I came up with the idea for doodle submission boxes my initial thought was to use cigar boxes like the ones you might see at a garage sale or a kid’s lemonade stand—compact, cute and a bit secretive (to me). What stories lay within those tired old boxes….

Then I realized that although the cigar boxes had mystique they also  “reeked” of stinky bars, emphysema and product placement. Plus, the boxes I saw online were either too small or flat. Submitting doodles would involve raising the lid back and, consequently, exposing all the other doodles (eek!) or the lid flying open with possible theft by wind. There had to be a better solution. The doodles needed privacy from thieves and critics.

The boxes needed to pop. Zing! Bang! Boom! Sparklers! Confetti-cannon tripwires! Monkeys! I really wanted to make them look beautiful and represent the magic of doodling. But the box…hmm…

Pills! Pills were the answer! Well, not exactly pills. The boxes that my medications were mailed to me in. They would be perfect! And they were free! I’d been saving them for months and didn’t know why. Serendipity is why! They are small shoebox size and the lid closes down into the box. I could just cut a hole in the top and carry the box around with no fear of doodles slipping out. I just needed to design them and create them.

Here’s how I make them: first I strip them free of packing tape and spray paint them metallic silver.  The boxes need to “pop” so I decorate them with doodle submissions. I photocopy several submitted doodles onto bright yellow card stock, cut them out and glue them onto the box. Then I make a laminated back and attach it to the box with velcro strips.

The boxes display the various types of doodles people do: faces, animals, creatures, scenery, moments, still life, words, designs, or any combination of these. And I’m amazed by all of the variations in style and levels of skills. I want to display every type of doodle in the hopes one or more will inspire somebody else to submit a doodle or two. Every three boxes or so I use new doodles as a way to honor those who submitted.

You can’t have doodles without supplies. So, I put together pencil bags that include sticky notes, information cards, & writing utensils and place them in binders with a laminated FAQ sheet inside. Five coffee shops in Abilene, Texas, agreed to take my submission boxes. The awesome news is that they work! Sometimes the pickings are slim and sometimes bountiful. We are grateful for any we get.

​Thank you!