Chris,
Your fight has touched so many lives. You are an amazing man. You and your family are in my prayers and thoughts. I'm so glad we were able to spend some quality time with you last weekend. I could feel your determination in the room. You are an inspiration to everyone you have touched throughout your life. I believe in miracles, large and small. I believe the power of prayer helps these miracles along. Love is the greatest of all miracles and as you have seen, you and your family (immediate and extended) are surrounded by the miracle of love every step of the way through this battle. All of us are hoping and praying for you everyday. We might not physically be there but we are strong in spirit. Stay the course. We love you. This world is a better place with you in it. Your friend, Suzanne
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Hi Chris,
Noel Franus here. I've been thinking about you a lot lately and am hoping for the best for you. It's been a long time since we've seen each other -- Stacia and I moved to San Francisco, then to Portland, Oregon -- but, oddly enough, you were in a dream of mine last night, so it doesn't feel like it's been too long. Here's the premise (which is all I can remember; sorry, details are fuzzy):
Suzanne owns a busy bar. It's busy. You've got a permanent spot at the bar. And you wave me over to say hello, saving a seat, despite the fact that the place is packed.
So, back to reality. In considering the dream, I'm trying to find a funny connection here. A fitting and almost expected smartass remark. A way to squeeze in a joke about how many times I've seen you, Tom M., Michaels C. and F. and of course Suzanne M. in full-tilt blotto mode, and about how this dream only seems like a natural fit given the Cheers-like comaraderie we were all able to enjoy with one another.
But it's not that obvious. I'm clearly stretching for a silver lining that really would just a fabrication that would get us/me feeling all warm and fuzzy. It's just not hitting home for me.
Chris, what feels a little more honest or authentic is the real sense of love, the caring efforts and the incredible network of friends who are surrounding you right now. These things don't happen by accident; you earn them over the years. While you certainly haven't earned nor do you deserve the shit you now have to deal with today, the support that's grown around you is remarkable, inspiring, phoenomenal. And this is a direct reflection of the phoenomenal person you are.
I'm inspired. And I'm sure I'm not the only one.
Hang in there, Chris. We love you.
-- NF
Hello Chris!
I am so happy to hear that your CT scan went so well. I know you are a fighter.
I think of you everyday and I pray that you summon that inner strength that you have to fight. I need you to fight.
Without getting too English Major-y on you, (I think the phrase English Major-y saves me) I am reminded of the Dylan Thomas poem "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Goodnight". Chris, fight this thing. You are doing great. Keep raging against this thing!
I am planning a trip up to see you after my event on April 21 & 22. It will be good to catch up as I haven't been successful trying to talk to you on the phone. I am hoping this blog will let you know how much you mean to me and how much I need you to kick the crap out of this cancer.
I am angry at this cancer. I need you to get angry at this cancer. I'll hold it down, you swing away at it.
I really wish I could be funny and light, but I can't. So I'll let the guys from Delta House in Animal House to do it for me:
D-Day: War's over, man. Wormer dropped the big one.
Bluto: Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!
Otter: Germans?
Boon: Forget it, he's rolling.
Bluto: And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough... [thinks hard] the tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go! [runs out, alone; then returns] What the fuck happened to the Delta I used to know? Where's the spirit? Where's the guts, huh? "Ooh, we're afraid to go with you Bluto, we might get in trouble." Well just kiss my ass from now on! Not me! I'm not gonna take this. Wormer, he's a dead man! Marmalard, dead! Niedermeyer--
Otter: Dead! Bluto's right. Psychotic, but absolutely right. We gotta take these bastards. Now we could do it with conventional weapons that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part.
Bluto: We're just the guys to do it.
D-Day: Let's do it.
Bluto: LET'S DO IT!!
So on that note...Chris, know we all love you and care about you and need you to continue to be strong.
Michael
Hey Chris,
I'm not sure I can top what Noel and Coops and Suzanne and others have already said. You might not know how many people think you are amazing. I can only imagine how awful and painful this is. We are praying and pulling for you every minute.
They say laughter is the best medicine, so I wanted to mention that I think you were the person at Loyola who I wanted to make laugh most. You were a tough laugh, so it always felt well-earned. One time Cooper and I were moving a couch from your house - totally legit - but you came home early and caught us hauling it down the stairs and I said, "Damn Coops! We should have waited another fifteen minutes!" And you laughed. Man, you've got a great laugh that can fill up a whole room all the hearts in it.
And then the classic Murtaugh catch for me was whenever anyone introduced something by, "Don't laugh, but..." and you would be screaming in laughter before the "but" came out.
There are certainly a million more stories (I don't think I have the space here for the time you left the pinto beans on the range and we wandered around neighborhood New Orleans bars looking for your wallet), but I think the point I'm trying to make is that when I hear "Chris Murtaugh," I think of an intelligent man with a deep laugh and a humongous heart. All those traits will get you through this.
We're all pulling and praying for you, Chris. Don't forget that for a second.
Your old friend,
Tom Molanphy
By the way, I talked with Suzanne about my little dream, the one in which she owns the bar. She asked me why she got stuck in my subconscious as the one who owns a bar, of all things.
"Was it because I'm a lush?"
My conscious mind said no, of course not. But my subconscious mind chose not to comment.
Chris -
Just wanted to wish you a happy hump day! I know this is a brutal week for you, but you can do it. You are almost through this week. Keep fighting. As I read through these messages it is so good to see the Loyola network come together in support for you. You were always the "straw that stirred the drink!" (Poops Cooper would say that was him, but we all knew it was you.) Be strong, I am thinking and praying for you.
-Funky Dunky
Chris,
I hope this weeks protocol is treating you right. We are all pulling for you. Keep it up. I'll call you tomorrow and check in.
Everyone else: Let's see some new pics.
Regarding those posted pics...
Steady, I don't want to hear anymore slack about my dickey. Chicago, neck warmth, sweaty bars. Need I say more? Let's talk about your electric cobalt blue shirt and acid wash jeans. Is that a toupee on your head?
Noel: You are the lush having bar dreams. I'm the responsible bar owner keeping everyone in sync -
maybe enjoying a few in between....
Suzanne
Hey Chris, my chemo-sabe!
I AM the straw that stirs the drink, the catcher in the rye and the walrus!
How are you doing? Well,I know you are doing crappy, but remember, each day is a day closer to feeling well again.
Things in Florida are fine. My bike tour is coming up quickly and I am scrambling to put the finishing touches on it before 1,500 spandex clad cyclists arrive on site!
Speaking of spandex, I have been working a ton and haven't had a lot of enbergy to workout or get on my bike. Plus with the stress, I have visited and revisited a couple of close friends - beer and cake. I love comfort food.
Well, I'm sure you can imagine that I cut quite a figure in my cycling gear when I am regularly exercising. Yes, me in spandex, is generally not a pretty site.
Well, I have gone without exercising and have been eating my comfort food, so I put on a few. Well, I thought I should do something about it and decided to go for a ride. I wriggled into my cycling shorts, which had apparently shrunk in the wash, and just before I put on my cycling jersey I glanced at myself in the mirror.
I noticed two horrific things. One, my love handles pooched out over the shorts and gave me a scary resemblance of a muffin top!
The second thing is, that the shorts were so tight, I guess they stretched a little too far, and the sunlight caught it just right or something, but you could actually see my ass-crack through the fabric!
So I threw on my jersey and put the muffin top away. Put on my new helmet (gotta protect your cocoanut!) I love cycling helmets because, if I wasn't goofy looking enough, the bright colored muffin-top that I am, the helmet, sitting on my head, which is atop my long thin neck, really gives me the startling appearance of a mushroom head.
I didn't notice this, but rather it was pointed out to me by a seven year old.
Next time, I'll tell you about when I Naired my legs.
Until then, I will leave you with a few naughty limericks. These were all written by Mike Funkey in his Columbia College days.
There was a man from Ghent
Who had a penis so long it bent
It was so much trouble
That he kept it double
And instead of coming he went.
There was a lady who triplets begat
Nat, Pat and Tat
It was fun breeding
But trouble feeding
Cause she didn't have a tit for Tat.
There once was a man from Madrass
Who's balls were constructed of brass
When jangled together
They played stormy weather
And lightening shot out of his ass!
The once was a young girl from Norway
Who hung by her feet from the doorway;
Which worked out quite well,
'Cause when you rang her bell,
It actually turned out to be foreplay!
Hang In There!
COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP
Chris,
Suzanne again. Your courage gives me faith and strength. I'm blessed to have you in my life again. I am annoyed that I let years pass without reconnecting. You ARE one of those forever friends - no matter how much time passes it always seems like yesterday we were together bellying up to the bar in either New Orleans or Chgo..
I'm going to try to fly up and visit with you soon.
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