I’ve lived through one major hurricane in my life…and it wasn’t pretty.
It was 2016 and my wife, mother, mother-in-law, and I were living in Jacksonville, Florida, in a vacation home directly on the beach. In fact, it was so “on the beach” that you could walk out the back steps and down a set of stairs and step directly into the ocean.
That sounds like a dream scenario, but we weren’t there for the happiest of reasons. Jacksonville, Florida, while home to some beautiful beaches and eclectic Southern flair, is also the location of the Mayo Clinic, the leading academic research hospital in the United States, and my best chance of surviving stage 4 cancer.
Eight years ago, I was in the fight of my life when an unruly tumor threatened to extinguish my existence. I was told that, without immediate intervention, I would be dead in 12 months. I was also told that there was one hospital in the country that specialized in eradicating this type of tumor, but the only way they would treat me is if I relocated there for three months.
In the course of a few weeks, I went from joyfully hitting golf balls and having cocktails on the deck, to moving into a rental home hundreds of miles away so I could have multiple surgeries, daily radiation, and a course of crippling chemotherapy. Talk about head-spinning!
The whole concept of cancer was difficult to fathom. I had heard about cancer, and watched movies about cancer, and listened to stories about cancer, but I never dreamed I’d have cancer growing inside of me. It’s almost as if, overnight, you realize your body has been invaded by an alien intent on killing you from within.
Thankfully, I had my family around to look out for me, but I basically handed my life over to a group of medical professionals who promised to save me.
So, right in the middle of this rather uncomfortable process, we received word that a major hurricane was headed toward Jacksonville. We figured it would only pose minimal risk, but the closer it got, the more intense the rhetoric became. And before we knew it, we were being forcibly evacuated away from the coastline.
At that point, the pain associated with my treatments had reached extreme levels, so I was heavily sedated on narcotics. I could walk and move around, but half the time I didn’t know where I was. So, while my wife, mother, and mother-in-law frantically searched for an inland spot to relocate, I sat in a chair staring at the wall somewhat oblivious to the severity of the situation.
Luckily, they found a Hampton Inn with one room left that was reserved for a handicapped individual (which I was embarrassingly qualified to fill). In one afternoon, my family packed up our gear and drove away.
I have no recollection of Hurricane Matthew hitting landfall other than a brief memory of staring at the television, which had persistent news coverage of the storm, and then turning my head slightly to look out the window where the storm was actually raging. I remember struggling to interpret which of the two visuals was my actual reality.
When the storm was over, we drove back to our rental property on the coast only to find that it had been utterly devastated by the storm. In fact, the ocean surge had compromised the foundation, leading to the home being condemned and eventually torn down.
Luckily, we found another rental home where I finished out my treatments. I don’t remember much after the storm, but every time a hurricane threatens (like this past week’s Hurricane Helene), I reminisce on how insane that time of my life was.
In this week’s feature, “We Need to Talk About Kevin,” we meet a woman who is in the throes of her own apocalyptic event, except in her case, everything was initiated by her own son.
Tilda Swinton stars in this devious psychological thriller where a loving mother must deal with the aftermath of her psychopathic son’s unspeakable act.
This is one of those films that’s incredibly difficult to watch (especially with Swinton’s frayed portrayal), but still worth the time and effort given how well it was crafted. This movie won’t appeal to the masses, but if you like biting visuals and poignant character studies wrapped in an extremely difficult storyline, then this is a film for you.
An anguishing “B” for “We Need to Talk About Kevin,” now available to stream on Amazon Prime Video.
Got a question or comment for Dom? You can email him at moviediary@att.net.
