B: P4 Longmire

 

Land of Wolves, the most recent offering in Craig Johnson’s engaging Longmire series, came out last fall. Although I have been following the series since 2018, and I was pleased to know that a new episode in the saga of Sheriff Walt Longmire had been released, I didn’t order it right away. And when I did, it remained stacked on top of my to-read list for weeks, then months. I couldn’t bring myself to crack it open, and I didn’t understand why. Until last month. And now I know.

My buddy John introduced me to the Longmire series when we met for a lunch date in 2018 that was anything but casual. John and his wife Lisa wanted to break the news to me that John had been diagnosed with IPF—Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. In layman’s terms, his lungs were hardening, and doctors could point to no specific cause. Like my bronchiectasis, IPF is progressive and irreversible, but its progression is much more rapid. Day by day, John was slowly running out of oxygen as the disease robbed him of more and more lung capacity.

But let me tell you about John. I met him in my first full year of teaching, and we bonded over crazy pants, those crazy-patterned, ballooning trousers with elastic ankles and waistbands and way too much room in the crotch. Remember those? Lordy, I am deeply grateful no photographs exist of me wearing them. John was a body builder back in the early 90’s—a serious body builder—and I was somewhat of a gym rat, and we’d both wear our crazy pants to work sometimes. I never saw a guy smile so much. Even when John began the tumultuous journey through a tough divorce, he kept his sense of humor, his smile in place. We talked a lot in those days, because he knew that I had just gone through the same, and when you’re navigating hell, it’s always nice to shout out to the guy that’s on the boat just ahead of you, just to be reassured you still might make it through. 

When he finally did make it through to the other side, Lisa was right there waiting for him. She was also a friend made through teaching and shared experiences, and we are so alike we are sisters in spirit. Like John, Lisa has a smile that never quits, no matter what trauma she’s working her way through. She has been friend, confidante and counselor to me, and when the two of them got together, it was a match made in heaven, no doubt about it.

Years after their marriage, on the day the two met with me to give me an education on IPF and explain John’s limited chances of survival, there they both were, sitting side by side, still as deeply in love, still smiling. And after we finished our serious talk of lung disease, John asked what I was reading, and when we discussed books, he told me how much he’d enjoyed the Longmire series. A sheriff in Wyoming who, like John, is one of the true good guys? I’m in. And I was really in after I read The Cold Dish, the first in the series.

So why, when I finally had the most recent book in my hands, couldn’t I bring myself to crack it open and read it?

Because the last time I saw John and Lisa in person, at dinner with a group of friends, John was not doing well at all. He was thin and weak and had to carry portable oxygen with him at all times. Lisa explained that they would be heading to UCLA Medical Center soon to consult with doctors about a lung transplant. 

A lung transplant. Damn.

That dinner was the last social engagement I have participated in to date. Immediately after it, we were locked down due to the pandemic, and my worry for John—what with COVID-19 drifting about, plus the delay in medical procedures and appointments, increased a thousand fold.

And then, suddenly, in the midst of a pandemic, when all the world seemed to be imploding, John was approved for a transplant. Shortly thereafter, some other family somewhere—strangers to us—incurred some tragedy that robbed them of a loved one, but did not strip them of their humanity; a lung was donated, and John went into surgery, and I got busy calling, texting, and messaging friends to please pray, light candles, chant, think positive thoughts or whatever they could conjure up that would help John make it through. 

And he did. Boy howdy, he did. Within days after his surgery, he was back on Facebook, posting positive messages, participating in discussions on the Longmire page, and joking about being ready to spike his orange juice with something that had a bit more kick to it.

That was in June. By July, John was back home with Lisa, taking daily walks (early in the morning, wearing a mask, of course), making his great, creative videos, and spending a good portion of each day encouraging others who are battling IPF.

One night in mid-July, when I went looking for my next book to read, I saw Land of Wolves. I smiled and picked it up, settling in for the good read I knew was ahead of me, and I realized why I hadn’t read it before. I had to know that John was going to be okay. Of course I know that, as a transplant recipient, life will never be the same “normal” for John that it was before his IPF diagnosis. He will face challenges in the years to come—but that’s the miracle of all this; he has years now, with Lisa, to face all the challenges ahead of him, and he’ll be doing so with that great smile of his, let me tell you.