59-ملاقات کننده

Visitor

Not too long ago, I visited a teenage boy, a huge Breaking Bad fan, at the Children’s Hospital in LA. Not long to live, I was told. The doctors couldn’t do much more than make him comfortable.

To be honest, I was dreading it.

What could I do? I wasn’t a doctor or a healer or even a speaker with a positive message. I was just an actor. I didn’t know how I could help him or his parents.

I was stressed. I wanted to be on time and yet I didn’t want to go at all. Robin and I parked the car and hurried toward the elevator. “Can you come in with me?” I asked. I needed support.

“Of course I’ll come,” she said.

But as we walked down the corridor toward the kid’s room, it started dawning on me: my dread and stress were selfish. This wasn’t about me, about how I felt. This was about Kevin. It was my responsibility to do whatever small thing I could for Kevin while I had the chance. I needed to get out of my head and focus on the boy. I took a few deep breaths. I had the same feeling I have when I’m standing backstage, before I make my entrance. I’m filled with nervous anticipation, but once I step on stage it dissipates. And that happened the moment I entered the room. It was all right.

I walked in and said, Hi, Kevin, casually, and he responded in kind. We exchanged ideas and thoughts, and I challenged him. I took the contrarian point of view. He said Walter White was evil. WHAT? I said, pretending to be angry. You like Jesse? WHY? Oh, you’re crazy. That’s insane. I started pacing, pretending he was driving me mad. The fact that he was ill did not come into the conversation. Except I told him he looked like Walter White with his bald head. He thought that was funny. You need to grow a mustache and goatee. Can’t you grow any facial hair, kid?!

For a moment it wasn’t about his illness. It wasn’t a doctor giving him more bad news or a nurse drawing blood. I was this guy on his favorite show, and we were together, alive in that moment.