Breath Into Being

By Michael White

Meet lexi. She's drowning literaly. Lexi has lung cancer, causing her lungs to fill up woth fluid that needs to be drained daily. Every breath gives her life as well as takes it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael D White
• Release date: Jun 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201532161

Michael White

Fr. Michael White is a priest of the Archdiocese of Baltimore, pastor of Church of the Nativity in Timonium, Maryland, and cofounder of Rebuilt—an organization designed to rebuild parishes for growth and health. White is the coauthor of the bestselling book Rebuilt—which narrates the story of Nativity’s rebirth—Tools for Rebuilding, Rebuilding Your Message, The Rebuilt Field Guide, and ChurchMoney. He is also coauthor of Seriously, God? and the bestselling Messages series for Advent and Lent. During White’s tenure as pastor at Church of the Nativity, the church has almost tripled in weekend attendance. More importantly, commitment to the mission of the Church has grown, demonstrated by the significant increase of giving, service in ministry, and much evidence of genuine spiritual renewal. White earned his bachelor’s degree from Loyola University Maryland and his graduate degrees in sacred theology and ecclesiology from the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome. In 2023, White and his lay associate, Tom Corcoran, were honored by Pope Francis with the Pro Ecclesia et Pontifice Award for outstanding service to Church and Pope.

Book preview

Acknowledgment:

This book is in honor of all the ones that supported me throughout this amazing journey. Thanks for your friendship Justin, Sean, Tommy, James, Nancy, Hank Maly, Ray, Elijah Clay,

Forward

Meet lexi. She's drowning, literally. Lexi has lung cancer, causing her lungs to fill with liquid that needs to be drained daily. Every breath she takes feeds her life, but also takes it.

Meet James. Resident smoker and bad boy. Forced into rehabilitation, and fighting his inner demons fills up his day. James's over it all, he doesn't want to live anymore.

So what will happen when the two meet?

A girl fighting to live.

A boy hoping to die.

1

Can I get a nose piercing dad? I asked, looking up from my phone, pouting my lips. Pretty please," I whined, looking over at dad whose face was covered by the newspaper.

Damn. Now I can't use puppy dog eyes.

I sighed in despair when dad didn't answer. I swear that man is as deaf as a doorknob sometimes. Dad? Hello? Earth to the doorknob? I wriggled around on the cold lino of the bench trying to get his attention but flinched when something sharp stabbed into my butt.

Stupid hospitals, I mumbled as I continued to wriggle, now trying to get comfortable from the lumpy mat rather than get dad's attention, but I came to a stop when I heard a loud sigh sound from dad.

Stop moving lexi, you'll bump the drainer, Dad says, before finally remembering what I asked and throwing down the newspaper with a huff. Why would you want a nose piercing? I don't think you can even have one with your breathing tube elephant.

So he did hear me... interesting.

I sighed as what he said suddenly set in with realization.

Damn that tube. It was bad enough I have to carry an oxygen canister with me let alone having something sticking out of your nose all the time. Can't we at least check with Doctor Moline? I asked sweetly, batting my eyelashes at dad.

He just shook his head at me and gave me the look and sighed.

We all know that look.

I suppose we can ask. He wanted to meet us after it was raining today.

So no?

I just said we'd ask El,

I'm not stupid dad, don't worry about it, I mumbled quietly looking down at my feet and swinging them back and forth as I became entranced in my thoughts.

I hate when people do that. Say 'maybe', or 'I suppose'. We all know that they really mean no. 'No, you can't do it. But I don't want to hurt your feelings, so I'll say maybe so you have hope. False hope.

I hate it. It's as if actually saying no is going to break me. It's not.

After all, you can't break what's already broken.

Soooo... do you know why Doc wants to see me? I asked curiously, trying to steer us back to another conversation, butterflies soaring around in my stomach at all the possibilities of him wanting to see me.

You see, every day we come to drain, but we only ever see Doc. on Mondays.

Today was Thursday.

No. But he mentioned that it was about something that could be beneficial to you. Could it be a new treatment? He said, head hidden behind his newspaper again, his body slouched in the chair.

Ahhh. Treatment. Gotta love it.

You see. I have lung cancer.

I know the cliché , right?

There's a growth in my lungs disrupting its walls and potentially tearing a hole in it. We don't exactly know, and we probably won't.

So, you're probably wondering the big question, why don't they take the tumor out? I mean. I thought that too. Easy peasy lemon breezy. Just cut that bugger of a thing out, slap a band-aid on and send me on my way.

Except it doesn't work like that apparently. As it so turns out in my case, taking it out would cause more damage than leaving it in there. It doesn't really matter to me anymore though. I'm going to die anyway.

The tumor that disrupts my lung wall, causes this tiny gap between the wall where it's started to tear and through that gap my lungs constantly fill with liquid, it slowly leaks into my actual lungs, thus drowning me.

Take it out. I'll drown completely within 24 hours.

Leave it in, and I'll slowly drown as it starts to tear more and fill faster, as cancer spreads around my body, shutting it down.

Every breath hurts, it's a constant struggle. Hence the tube that sticks up my nose 24/7 to help me breathe, and the daily lung draining. I mean it's not pretty, but at least it's not chemo.

We've already been there, and it was not pretty.

So basically, my life sucks.

I spend 2 hours a day in this white, boring hospital room, covered in goosebumps as I freeze and drown to death. All the while I have a giant needle in my ribs to assist in draining my lung wall.

It won't be for much longer though.

They only gave me six months to live at best.

It's been four months. I'm living on borrowed time.

I was pulled out of my thoughts as a knock sounded on the door, a dirty blonde head with a white cap on, peeked in.

How are you going, lexi? Nurse Aldine asked, a bright smile lighting up her face.

She's my favorite nurse, always smuggling me some sort of sugar.

Man, I love sugar. I know. I know. 'Sugar's bad for you' you're probably all thinking. Well, I've reached the stage where I just don't care anymore. If I'm going to die, I'm going to do it well.

What's that saying? Not with a fizzle, but out with a bang?

Well hell, I'm not going out with a bang. I'm going out with a nuclear bomb.

Because what can I say? I'm extra like that.

lexi? How are you? Aldine asks again, reminding me of the conversation happening around me and not in my thoughts.

Good. The usual ya know? You?

I'm good lexi. She smiled softly. All the nurses were nice to me. I guess that's one benefit of being the dying girl and not a grumpy old bastard.

Time to get this girl out girl, ready? I nodded, already grimacing. This part was the worst, pulling the needle out. 1, 2, 3

The sharp pain swamped my body. Ahhh son of a cow, I hissed.

Elephant language, Dad said, lifting his eyebrows. He was next to me now helping Aldine place the bandage on.

Sorry, dad. I murmured.

That's my dad alright. You would think dying would give you a swearing hall pass.

Apparently not in his books. I mean, to be honest, I don't even swear... that much.

There. All good to go. She said patting down the bandage a final time.

Thanks, Aldine, Dad and I said at the same time, as I jumped down from the bench, white vans hitting the tiled floor.

No problem sweetie. Have a great day, I'll see you tomorrow?

Of course you will. Bye. I gave her a quick wave as we walked out into the stark hall.

Let's go see Doc. Shall we? Dad said, holding his arm out to me. I grabbed his arm and linked it with mine.

We shall I giggled, skipping down the hall, dad at my side.

______

Doc's door