A Man In A Boy's Body

(From the Janesville Messenger, 11-30-08)

Physically, T.J. is a boy of 13.
Mentally, T.J. is a man.
T.J. has grown up quickly, placed in a role that each of us hope we never have to fill.
T.J. is his father’s caregiver.
Perhaps that label is overstating the severity of the situation. T.J.’s father, Thomas, is not incapacitated. Thomas can drive and get around, but he’s lost a lot of weight, he can’t work, and his body is riddled with disease. And worst of all, his doctors have told him he will not get better.
And that has placed T.J. in a position of doing a lot of things that a boy normally wouldn’t have to do.
But to T.J., they are second nature. One thing that stands out in the mind of his father is one day when T.J. was eight, when Thomas was struggling to bend down and tie his work boots. Without a word, T.J. came over and did it for him. After that, T.J. made sure he was up before 5 a.m. every day to take care of that simple task for his dad.
“He’s been like a war hero,” Thomas says. “Or an angel. It’s like he can read my mind.”
Thomas can pinpoint when things started to go awry with his body. In 2003, a piece of heavy equipment fell on his abdomen. The accident led to a damaged and infected pancreas along with kidney problems. When he was finally well enough to go back to work, he discovered a strange change to his body. The upper part of his body would no longer perspire, even when doing hard physical work in 90-degree weather.
Other odd physical ailments followed. One day behind the wheel of a work truck, Thomas drove over a bump and the jolt knocked out his vision. His passenger had to take the wheel and guide the truck to the shoulder. Thomas’ sight eventually returned.
Thomas wears a thick, bushy beard these days, an appearance he doesn’t like and apologizes for. But that and the thick layers of clothes he wears are a necessity, as he is always cold, even in mid-summer.
A parade of doctors examined Thomas and could not determine what was wrong with him. He was told it could be anything from multiple sclerosis to Lou Gehrig’s Disease.
Through it all, T.J. has been there by his side. “He always has a positive attitude,” according to Thomas. “We’re a team. There is no ‘I,’ just ‘we’ or ‘us.’
“He’ll say to me, ‘Dad, there’s nothing you can’t tell me.’ But I tell him, ‘You’re only 13 years old!”
Thomas hates that it has to be this way. “I feel like I’ve taken his childhood away from him,” he says, “because of everything that’s happened.”
But T.J. has never complained. His only question is why it had to happen to Thomas. And that’s a question Thomas doesn’t know how to answer.
As Thomas’ lack of energy increased, his ability to work decreased, finally ceasing altogether in 2006. He has been able to live off his life savings, the result of a successful career.
Since then, his primary responsibility has been to be a father. And he isn’t done yet.
“I want to teach (T.J.) everything I know,” Thomas says. That includes how to frame houses, build furniture, finish drywall, and pour driveways, as well as every detail worth knowing about fishing.
Thomas has a daughter, too, but she doesn’t live with him. He worries that his close bond with his son might make her think he doesn’t love her just as much. But one of his stated goals is to still be able to someday “walk her down the aisle.”
Thomas now knows the cause of his problems. Tests showed that his body was loaded with chemicals, including arsenic from treated lumber, apparently from working in construction. This appears to be the cause of the cancer that now inhabits his body. He has been told that there is nothing more that can be done for him.
“You never know what your life holds for you,” Thomas says. But he isn’t looking for sympathy. Thomas simply wants his son to know that he appreciates the devotion, strength, love and affection that T.J. has shown him. And to let others know that his modest, unassuming son is truly an adult in a child’s body, in many ways more mature at 13 than some of us are decades later.