Houston, We Have a Problem
[Editor’s Note: We’re pretty sure that the following allegory describes a health-related topic, but given the esoteric workings of the inner sanctum of his cranium, even we aren’t certain what the C. O. is up to. Look for an interpretation soon.]
The beginning of this magnificent journey was a thing of beauty. Within a minute after liftoff the cheering crowd turned silent as a thousand necks craned to follow the path of the orange torch rapidly shrinking against the backdrop of pale sky. Inside the spaceship the astronauts were confident, enthusiastic and more than motivated to guide their ship safely to its destination. The explorers performed their duties with precision and vigilance, constantly alert for any signs of malfunction. The future beamed radiant in their eyes even as the cloak of space dimmed the light from Earth to blackness.
Just as a lonely college student brightens when a voice from home is on the line, the astronauts were comforted by the reassuring patter from Mission Control. As the distance between the spacecraft and Earth stretched to a number only dreamt of before, the crew kept a proud vigil on the status of their ship. The cramped quarters hummed with the sounds of activity as they performed instrument checks, computer queries and other maintenance. The darkness of space surrounded the viewing ports like an eternal night as the voyagers sailed into the far corners of the great dome hanging over the heads of lovers and stargazers back home.
It was two months into the voyage when Mission Control sent out the first warning. Some new calculations on fuel consumption needed to be made, but had not been done. When asked about this the ship’s captain was heard to reply, “I know, I know. We need to do it. We’ll get to it.” Soon after this an irregularity in the climate control was found and another message sent to the crew. No reply was heard for three hours, until the chief engineer radioed to say that they would “get on this” as soon as possible. The log book at Mission Control began to fill with incidents of sloppy maintenance, unsuccessful repairs and overt negligence. The flight directors urged the crew to pay attention to the ship and not forget their mission.
Looking back now, I guess it was a mistake to broadcast the astronauts’ final hours. Mission Control made the decision to go live when the crisis hit, and perhaps NASA thought that the drama would be good publicity for the program. What shocked the nation was not that the ship was in trouble. After reading the reports put out by NASA we all knew she was in bad shape, but we were unable to figure out why the crew couldn’t make the necessary repairs. It wasn’t until the ship’s captain got on television did we realize the sickening truth.
“Why is this our problem?” he screamed. His voice was jarring but strangely muted, as if smothered by an unseen pillow. The television commentator kept breaking in with breathless updates on the rapidly declining oxygen level in the cockpit. The captain kept ranting, stopping every few seconds to catch his breath. No other voices were heard from within. His accusations rattled speakers all across the country.
“If you would have known what you were doing this wouldn’t have happened!”
“We were in trouble months ago! Why did you let it go so long? Why didn’t you do something about it?”
“It’s your responsibility to keep this ship going, not ours!”
I remember finally jumping up and turning off the set. It was late, and according to the paper the new moon was slumbering somewhere far out of sight. I stepped outside into the shivering nothingness of the winter night and wandered just far enough into the back yard to clear the silhouettes of the oak trees overhead and see the bejeweled sky. Somewhere out there, in the ineffable sorrow of a universe filled with an abundant emptiness, a tragedy was taking place. Its cause was clear, as clear to me as the call of a whip-poor-will in the branches nearby. He sang bitterly that night and I slept with unease, listening to his mocking requiem until the first grays of morning finally drove him back into the deep, black forest.
Very engaging! I look forward to the interpretation soon.
Comment by Ali — April 26, 2006 @ 12:13 am
Ooh, ooh, can we submit our own interpretations?
Comment by Amka — April 26, 2006 @ 8:01 pm
Yes, you certainly can, but this allegory isn’t that difficult to explain, is it?
Comment by The Cheerful Oncologist — April 26, 2006 @ 11:30 pm
doesn’t seem too difficult to explain
if only we knew how to interpret the actual symptoms that can occur before they seem like anything important…. and we could have (I could have) had a jumpstart on a diagnosis
Comment by Feisty — April 27, 2006 @ 1:36 am
ps
I always love your hyperlinks
Comment by Feisty — April 27, 2006 @ 1:37 am
Interesting. It begs the question of who is the captain and who is the ship? Metaphorically the atmosphere is a ’space’ where faith abides, the earth is where doubt lies. In the end we are all powerless, regardless of the decisions we make. There are some of us however (hint, hint) who have to take responsibility for the passengers on board…and the possibility of failing those who have entrusted our lives with the almighty Captain is a fearful one indeed.
I have decided to just be the common leaf that floats down the stream.
Comment by m — April 27, 2006 @ 8:11 am
Reading this piece I’m reminded that heart disease, diabetes and cancer are caused or exacerbated by overeating, poor dietary choices, lack of exercise and smoking. Depression, schizophrenia, HIV and high blood pressure, controllable by medication, go out of control when the prescribed medication is not taken. Who is ultimately responsible for ship maintenance? Not Mission Control, the crew captain! Once the ship is launched, Mission Control loses control - becoming merely “mission assistance” - and its best efforts to assist are all for naught if the crew can’t be bothered to follow (or even thoughtfully consider) its advice.
How many of us readers could have better health now - and later - by taking better care of our bodies according to our physicians’ advice?
Comment by Hondaholic — April 28, 2006 @ 10:21 pm