The Being

By Michael Morisaki

Mike Daniels, a high school dropout and auto mechanic, is cured of terminal cancer and becomes a professor of physics at Caltech through the power of The Being, a man who has evolved into a completely spiritual being over millions of years. Why did The Being return and choose to rescue Mike from among the seven billion people on Earth?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 23, 2012
• ISBN: 9781468560275

Michael Morisaki

The author is a retired physician, attorney and real estate broker. He was born in 1927 on Maui where he spent his childhood in an orphanage for girls. His educational background: BS magna cum laude, Marquette University; MD with distinction, University of Michigan Medical School; JD, Loyola Law School of Los Angeles; internship, Mount Sinai Hospital, NYC; and residency in internal medicine, Mayo Clinic. He practiced medicine for 36 years in Los Angeles.In 1997, he won the annual James Clavell Literary Award for his short story, Returning Alone to Maui. He authored five novellas: MD-JD, Sex Comes in Different Packages, The Being, Childhood on Maui and The Way the Ball Bounces.

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© 2012 Michael Morisaki. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 4/17/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4685-6029-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-6028-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4685-6027-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012904135

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 and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

1 

 Dying From Cancer

2

The Being Appears

3  

Leaving The Hospice

4  

 At Home

5 

 Back To School

6  

 Evolution

7 

 More Questions

8 

More From The Being

9 

 Family Reunion

10 

 Friends Forever

1 

 Dying From Cancer

Mike Daniels’s head lay on the pillow of his hospice bed. His face would be that of one already dead but it still showed some color and there were occasional grimaces from pain on his unshaven face, much older than that of his thirty seven years. The rest of his body was barely detectable beneath the covers. Mike was not long for this world.

Dr. Shapiro entered, greeted Mike and answered again Mike’s question, Yes, Mike, it won’t be long. He pulled the covers down, applied his stethoscope on the ribs of Mike’s chest and listened. Then he pulled the covers down further and pressed his hands into the hollow abdomen, felt the hardened and knobby margins of the enlarged liver on the right and the firm mass in the upper abdomen. It was Dr. Shapiro’s style to examine his patients, no matter how terminal they were. The doctor who visited the patient in the next bed chose to say, Hello, Bill. How are you feeling today? He’d look at the chart, hanging at the foot of the bed, and jot down two words, Condition unchanged. He’d signed it and leave, See you in a couple of weeks.

Dr. Shapiro chose to listen to Mike, But how much time do I have? I can’t stand this pain. I’m sorry, Doctor. I appreciate all you have done for me. The specialists you had me see. And all the treatment. It’s a wonder they didn’t kill me. You know I’m kidding. Mike managed to smile.

You know, Mike, how doctors hate to answer that question. We are often off the mark. Who knows what might happen? The treatment might start working late.

Mike reached out for the doctor’s hand. I know. How many patients like me do you have in this place?

Two others. There are others who have years to live. The doctor pulled the covers back to Mike’s shriveled neck.

It must be hard on you. To take care of people like me. Sorry for talking so much. It takes me away from my problem and, besides, talking eases my pain.

Dr. Shapiro took Mike’s hand in his. Mike, it’s people like you who make it worth while. I want you to know that I appreciate how you’ve taken your… your condition. It makes a difference to have patients like you. I mean, considering how your family has been treating you, how strong you’ve been. I dearly wish I could have done something better for you. I admire how you have endured … When my father died in this hospice, well, he didn’t take it as well. It was hell for my mother.

Doctor, the way Ruth looks at me. You know, you’ve talked with her. She can’t wait for me to die. My cousin told me that she’s fooling around. That SOB. He wants me to suffer. And the kids. It’s just as well they don’t come around.

Dr. Shapiro looked at Mike’s haggard face. They looked at each other and said nothing. They squeezed each other’s hands. Mike blinked tears from his eyes. He saw Dr. Shapiro’s eyes well with tears, too.

A uniformed nurse appeared, Doctor, could I talk with you?

Outside Mike’s room, she said, He’s asking for more morphine. What should we do?

Dr. Shapiro said, Gertrude, I’ll order the shots more often. He won’t be around for more than a couple of weeks. I’ll cut off the IVs. I have his wife’s approval. He wrote the orders for reducing the IV flow rate and for more frequent morphine shots.

When Dr. Shapiro returned to Mike, he was asleep. He touched Mike’s covered toes and left to see his other patients. One of them yelled invectives while he examined him. He listened to the complaints, answered that he would do what he could and left. The other patient glared at him and said nothing. She did not recognize her doctor who did his examination, talked reassuringly to her and left. It was also Dr. Shapiro’s style to wash his hands between patients.

At the hospital cafeteria, the doctors have a chance to relax with their colleagues. They’d talk about matters not related to their patients. How the stock market was doing, family matters and, sometimes about some medical article they had come across in one of the journals. Dr. Shapiro talked about Mike with his fellow internist. He has metastatic pancreatic cancer. How I hate to have that. You know what they said during our residency. Not to get too close to your patients. I wish he weren’t such a nice guy. His associate laughed it off, What is that they say about nice guys? Dr. Shapiro said, When the hell will someone come out with cures for cancer? I mean pancreatic cancer. The other said, Look at Bob there. He’s an oncologist. He deals with nothing but cancer. They both laughed at the proctologist sitting at the next table. He deals with the rectum all day long.

Visiting hours. Mike’s wife Ruth appeared