Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Becker Luck

I'm sure most families have some version of what my dad called Becker Luck. I don't know if he was the one who defined it, but he was the one who experienced it and identified it the most. It isn't bad luck, it's just different luck. He defined Becker Luck as getting the thing you were seeking in the first place, but only after going through some kind of unnecessary and sometimes preventable hell first.

Let's say you go to Best Buy on a Sunday to get a TV they advertised on sale. You get there and they are sold out, no rain checks. Every store in the area is sold out. On the way home you get a flat tire, and you have to spend Monday getting it fixed. Tuesday you wander into Sears on an unrelated errand and you see the same TV on sale that day only for $200 less than Best Buy's sale. You've just experienced Becker Luck.

My dad lived with stage IV lung cancer for four and a half years. That is a miraculous amount of time. It wasn't enough time, of course, but 100 years wouldn't have been enough time. We told each other a lot that this would turn out to be some kind of Becker Luck. What he wanted was a long and fulfilling retirement. What he got was peripheral neuropathy and chemo and worry. He made the best of it, but it wasn't the retirement any of us imagined. I just knew in my heart that one day he would be cancer-free, and we'd look back at the cancer years as the unnecessary hell on the way to that long and fulfilling retirement.

I was looking at it backwards. It was cancer that had Becker Luck. Only 16 percent of people who have lung cancer live five years after being diagnosed. Only one percent who have the kind my dad had live that long. Lung cancer nearly always gets its man. But you fight it. You put it through hell. You make it wait. If you are lucky, you get a couple of good years where you can fool yourself into thinking that luck is on your side.

2 comments:

  1. WOW - My Dad said the last 4 sentences almost word for word. Shelly quotes..."I know what's going to get me." "I am always looking over my shoulder for it to return." "I guess I've already had more years than most."

    ReplyDelete
  2. We felt that way for so long, too. We knew how rare it was to have that kind of time, but hoped against hope. I hope your dad shatters the expectation. Also, I was so sorry to hear about your uncle.

    ReplyDelete