The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current, April 24, 1987, Image 2

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    Page ^/The Battalion/Friday, April 24, 1987
Opinion
MAR&OUBS
€>1907 HCXX>7ZM FOZT
c
The governor’^
ideally serious about
running* the state
like a business...
.Ii
V\/hat
i-diq
Mm
AFTER 151 YEARS
cm
puaniMi*
31—Li-El
Tt T
M
mu©
p io
TV is a normal
part, of American
life and I V adver
TV.
mm
II
NrteMMNMMMMMMMI
probably
mercia
i„
ave tl
*r to ( onvince
that our current ueod<
ing and lu-ithei is out n
worse tliougli is that (|
try to convince ns we i
unlovable.
No longer taking it all for granted
Anne
Dejoie
Guest Columnist
I learned the
hard w ay that
heart attacks don’t
always happen to
the old man down
the street.
Five years ago my dad, only 42 at the
time, had two attacks, complete with a'
quadruple bypass and warnings from
the doctors to change his habits.
As time went on, the whole thing be
came a part of the past, easily recalled
everytime I saw the elongated scar on
Dad’s leg (where the vein was borrowed
for the bypass) or heard the menacing
wail of an ambulance siren.
Life at the Dejoie home returned to
normal — as close as it could get any
way.
Mom broke her ankle; Roy Jr.
worked on his master’s degree; Lisa,
only 17 years old, still tried to get her
curfew extended; and I could see the
end of my college days lurking a few
months away.
However Dad, seemingly healthy, de
cided to have another heart attack.
This attack was more serious than the
first two, and Dad added muscle dam
age, pneumonia and several days of ir
regular heartbeats to the already com
plicated situation.
Mom phoned me at school to tell me
that Dad was in the hospital again.
At that point, nothing in the world
was more important to me than being
with my family.
Driving to the hospital, all I could
think about was what if ... ?
What if he needs another bypass op
eration?
What if the doctors keep him in the
hospital too long?
What if Dad won’t be around to watch
his grandchildren grow up?
What if he dies?
This last question, crouching in the
back of my mind since Mom’s call that
afternoon, sprang forward like a jack-
in-the-box that had been waiting for the
top to open.
I couldn’t wash the horrible thought
away despite the tears running down my
face.
Every stop light was red and every car
on the road drove at what seemed like
ten miles per hour, but I finally arrived
at the hospital.
I had only been at the hospital five
minutes when Dad’s doctor came by
with a report.
“It doesn’t look good,” the doctor
said.
“I won’t lie to you. He could die.”
There was that word again.
I kept pushing it back and it kept
springing up again.
I found myself thinking of the times
Dad and I had spent together and won
dered if there would be more.
I remembered weekends at the duck
pond near our home when I was very
young.
Later as I grew into a teenager, Dad
and I spent afternoons at the stables, or
Sundays in the French Quarter in New
Orleans, or summers painting the house
— sharing a cold beer to keep the fumes
out of our lungs (Dad’s favorite excuse).
We laughed and talked and shared
stories, and our friendship grew
stronger.
That wasn’t just my dad in intensive
care, it was one of the best friends I ever
had.
i looked over at Mom.
She always looked young enough to
be my sister instead of my mom.
But now she seemed to have aged 10
years in 10 minutes.
Her husband was in the next room —
possibly dying — but as always, she re
mained in control and provided sup
port for my brother, my sister and me.
Watching her, I knew Dad would be
proud oFTier for taking charge, and I
hoped that I would be like her when 1
became a mother.
And all the what ifs sprang up again.
After minutes that seemed like
months, I was allowed into Dad’s room.
The man I saw lying on the bed
wasn’t my dad — it couldn’t have been.
My dad was always strong and vibrant
— except for those Sunday naps on the
sofa. He was the one I leaned on and
turned to for help.
The man I saw lying on the hospital
bed with tubes and needles coming
from every penetrable part of his body
couldn’t have been Dad. This man, ap
pearing to fight for every breath he
could manuever, looked weak and
scared.
Yet something in his eyes comforted
me and made me realize that the doc
tors were in for a surprise.
As Dad forced a smile to convince me
that he wasn’t in pain, I saw the deter
mination in his eyes — a look that told
me he wasn’t going to give up easily and
that he was going to make it through
this ordeal — alive.
I went home and prayed.
We all seem to take breathing, heart
beats and tomorrows for granted until
they’re gone or someone we love is dy
ing.
We fail to say I love you as often as we
should, assuming that there will be time
for sentiments tomorrow.
And we avoid the discussion of death
unless it pertains to the man down the
street or someone we’ve read about in
the paper.
One month and three bypasses later,
Dad came home with more warnings
from the doctors. My family was luckier
than many.
Despite wishful thinking, I know that
my family is not immune to serious in
jury, or. death, and I no longer take
good health for granted.
1 try to make the most of every day,
relishing the good things and accepting
or changing the bad.
Every night, I fall asleep wondering
what would have happened if. . .
The Battalion
(USPS 045 360)
Member of
Texas Press Association
Southwest Journalism Conference
The Battalion Editorial Board
Loren Steffy, Editor
Marybeth Rohsner, Managing Editor
Mike Sullivan, Opinion Page Editor
Jens Koepke, City Editor
Jeanne Isenberg, Sue Krenek, News Editors
Homer Jacobs, Sports Editor
And every morning, I thank ( »;>d th it
I still have a father.
Anne Dejoie is a senior journalism ma
jor.
Naturally, the
the t ha nee to t >.
ning out and b
great many of i
fall into this .
these ads art i
ones. Etribat ra.‘
the prize lor the
ourselves by urn-
their product A
rv ctiftimerciab
>rv.
rating and ea
>ilv
lot the mosl
sing coniine
most annoy!
Mai! Ca*S
but most w<
these ads
Hi niely ik.'
ample, the
a i who is g
telling hm v<
'‘NT w, l>s.r
men in
r .11 .1
, '°W many of
if theyreniovd
gif ne from tit
k> ( >nc, excep:
tug these pro4
iliat anyone jaii
i and fun,
in high schoolr
dal someoneo®
t IV? Most of i
intents of des!
it dragged byt
mething tt
libitionsvai;
a feminine |’-
lt sudden!
anything .ti
i ly how gn
es uncont
them. Nolo
it somethin,
private, bit
(1 of ways.!
about the
left
With all due respect...
EDITOR:
I would like to apologize to Bryan Kelly coin ernimt m\ I.* u*-. m i
Battalion (April 21). I now realize 1 was overly Tn lined 'i ,,
mild and unoffensive letter. Ido not regret the t < ur uia !e ?; i tuv letter
my harshness toward Kelly. I am sure Kelly is hoiK si .iiul j" :
opinion. An honest and sincere opinion ah. •>s d« v i , .m.: i spec t S
I would also like to point tmt the views presented m mv lettc-t'Jirt'^Sjttow™
it would be unfair to stereotype the othei < lul> : eh' v.-nit tuv views. 1
hope 1 have soothed any hard feelings, and any <a itu ;■ in . <: oiua t nmg rnv g
over-zealousness toward Bi yan are deserved.
John R. Spessard
We must know to defend
EDITOR:
Last week, we received a two-part eyewitness reporr by (lout* 1 lianh in t
The Batta/Zon concerning the communist conquest of VietHmi. ! hank you,
Thanh, for making the effort to share your painful an mk • t- > T, ;; V.'e
ought to contemplate your words.
Thanh’s story reveals the communist ideology in actum. It is lot a reasoi
that many have declared the pen to be mightier than tb<
men’s actions, and it is through the medium of :1k pen ilu v an expressed
The communists declare that an irreconcilable class - onf in t t xists. and i n in e
the proletariat must seize power to suppress the Eoin K nee, h- \ 1 . ■ u:
these'ideas have been executed.
1, these raaxi
ow many tin
ihat the li
ttle sister won
<*x back in h
n sister’s face
keep the n
i
Staiting M
taxi pads. Ill
there’s no
. 4, we’ll all
c of watchi
eu mode*! lit
, -ric. Good
rut W’hitc it
“V, heel of f
ever tsUk
As a history major presently studying the f’u sja ' b’evolnt mu in drpil*. 1
have been extensively reading communist theoi y. 1 dn is v, as am acted to the |
Communist Party of America’s table in the Memorial Student ' '•enter lot,
several hours April 14 when the party’s representatives, aloi
representatives of other political groups, came to sli ir< tiu ir »<1 s w«i!' us.
Many students stopped to listen and argue. Fat t(to fnany, aiteSfiudiu
out that the communist viewpoint was being expounded, di .ar t-d it as
load of b.s.” and walked away. Others engaged in eniotional di itrilie ; ho
themselves to be far from rationality or true knowledge of the subject. One
student attempted to quote Marx, but upon being ch; llenged, admitted that
he had never read Marx. Few seemed to understand die read i:
Communism is not “a load of b.s.” You may not agree with it. but tt is an a
idea that powerfully inspires many around the world. It is not . hat ink- ;s,
abstract notion but has real, discernable consequences, i ft. idea of liberty has j
had consequences which we enjoy today, but how marly of us undet stand that
idea so as to be able to defend it? How many of us have read our Constitution ;
and Declaration of Independence and understand the signs lit a nee o! the
ideas contained therein? How many of us realize how scam libt ! 1 . 1 a .s
we enjoy has been throughout history? For example, in Russia’s long history,
the years in which she has had a free press can be nuniU red on the ! ingei s oi
two hands.
but insi®
live.
I can live
despite the
embarras
it J (
rh
Wl!
still
unacce
models
cond <
Editorial Policy
7 /ic Enttalioii is a non-profit, self-supporting newspaper oper
ated as a community service to Texas A&M and Bryan-College Sta
tion.
Opinions expressed in The Battalion are those of the editorial
board or the author, and do not necessarily represent the opinions
of Texas A&M administrators, faculty or the Board of Regents.
The Battalion also serves as a laboratory newspaper for students
in reporting, editing and photography classes within the Depart
ment of Journalism.
The Battalion is published Monday through Friday during
Texas A&M regular semesters, except for holiday and examination
periods.
Mail subscriptions are $17.44 per semester, $34.62 per school
year and $36.44 per full year. Advertising rates furnished on re
quest.
Our address. The Battalion, Department of Journalism, Texas
A&M University, College Station, TX 77843-4 111.
Second class postage paid at College Station, TX 77843.
POSTMASTER: Send address changes to The Battalion, De
partment of Journalism, Texas A&M University, College Station
TX 77843-411 1.
In athletics, it is imperative that the players thoroughly ki
is also useful to study films of the opposition to know how to <
effective defense. Dare we think it is any diff erent
wish to preserve our liberty, we must not only essa;
behind it thoroughly but also to know opposing id
consequences. We cannot defend what we do not
to defend against that of which we are ignorant.
Does the workers’ paradise of Thanh’s homel
valuable material possessions cannot protect then
liberty cannot defend or propagate itself . Each g<
secure the blessings of liberty to themselves and t
in the MSC is any indication, we are failing to d<>
must discharge this responsibility lest we, too, fin
our own graves.
Brian Arthur Frederick’87
: ' ys. Ij
y.to understauc
gas and. to observe their
know and are hard-pr--
rid enchat
list as out
ind often n®',
i to is that I
iscments k' 1 (|1, j
ranted, 1 have^J
nnouncemen^
condoms top 11
but if we fol io
iy the linger' 03
iply showing 3
nent should a
ihout condo® 5 ';
ocatmg
the list 3.
in tny
four-pa^
.iouwlMS
l.etters to the editor should not exceed 300 words in length- Trie editorial stuff
for style and length, but will make every effort to maintain the a at hoi intent, i
must include the classification, address and telephone number of.the write,
l.ggmg
erw ■ the right to edit h tiers j '*** «• ****•'<*■
ch letter must lu signed a nl j dqillS, CSp
event
human co
l e*er *f*i
ifpasia*^
e aria. .^
d.< foK“'l
lOinotifS
worth thef’
tcrall. * tl "'
:veryotl*f^
n incMl
cunallf*
!, ad, eV£ ” J
if it will ^
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