Hearted Youtube comments on The Why Files (@TheWhyFiles) channel.
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Back in 2019, I was in a Boston hospital for several days due to surgery complications. For most of my stay I was in a double room with no roommate, but on the second to last day, the divider curtain was drawn and my roommate was wheeled in. Shortly after the nurses got him settled in, he started talking to me from behind the curtain. Naturally we began with small talk, but after a while we got into the reasons why we were admitted to the hospital. I went first and mentioned my complications after a cancer related surgery. He responded with, "That's funny, I'm here because of complications from the same type of cancer." We talked about our conditions for quite some time but eventually my roommate shared some heartbreaking news. He quietly said, "Unfortunately, this isn't my first battle with cancer. Colon cancer makes my total count go up to eight."
I was so taken aback that I didn't know what to say. I offered my sympathy and asked if he had any idea what caused his cancer. He immediately said, "I know exactly what caused my cancers, but the government will never take responsibility. You see, I was serving in Vietnam when Agent Orange was used."
I told him I was sorry he had to go through that. I knew how devastating the effects were on people and it made me angry. How could this kind soul serve his country, only to have them turn their backs on him when he needed help; especially when they caused the suffering.
Later that night I asked if he kept in touch with anyone that he had served with. He choked up a little and said, "All of my friends from the military have passed away from similar cancers. I refuse to believe that it's a coincidence."
The next morning I was getting discharged and I finally got to see who I was talking to the day before. I was expecting to see an elderly man in OK condition, just weathering out the current cancer storm. I say this because he always had a positive attitude and his voice didn't sound frail at all. Sadly, reality was much harsher. I saw a man curled up in a ball, visibly in pain, and clearly on his last leg. I'm not a doctor but I was certain that he didn't have long to live.
I struggled to fight back tears, reached out, and shook his hand. I told him, "Thanks for keeping me company yesterday, and more importantly, thank you for fighting for our country. I'm so sorry you're being treated this way. I truly hope you get the care you need and I wish you nothing but the best." He graciously accepted and returned the best wishes.
That was the last time I ever saw him, but the stories he shared and the image of him in the hospital bed will haunt me for the rest of my life. We as a country need to do better! We need to treat our heroes with the respect that they deserve!
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