For those of you who aren't quite familiar with The Bone Jangler Family, I have a nephew/son. His name is Gregory, Greggy for short. While he isn't my biological son, he's my son in every other conceivable way, just as I am much more of a father figure to him. Back in October of 2005, Greggy came home from school one day, with a large bump, on his forehead. It wasn't there when he left for school that morning. When asked, "Did you fall down, and hit your head, today, at school?" He had no answer. "Did you run into something?" Nothing. "Did someone hit you?" Nothing. "Where did you get that bump on your head?" Greggy asked, "WHAT BUMP?" When his hand was placed on the bump, a confused look appeared on his face. He had no idea where it came from.
At the end of the month, shortly before Halloween, the bump was still there, the exact same size. He was taken to see a doctor. The doctor ran tests, and did some x-rays. In conclusion, he had no idea where the bump had come from, but was glad it was there, because it caused him to look inside. What he found inside was something called a "benign dermatoid;" a sort of cyst/tumor that only 1% of people develop. Actually, they're born with it, but no no one knows it's there until about the time they turn 18. At that point, they begin having severe headaches that become more frequent, and increasingly more severe, until they're constant, and their vision begins to get foggy. At that point, they fearfully go to the doctor, thinking that, perhaps, they have a brain tumor. As rare as these benign dermatoids are, the doctors recognize them right away, and, usually, simply send these people home, as it's too late to do anything about it. What happens is these things burrow into your brain over the years, and, by the time the symptoms arrive, there's not much that can be done. That bump was the first miracle.
Surgery would have to be performed, and the dermatoid removed. Everything about this thing was 1%. Only 1% of people survive the surgery, without dying, or becoming a "vegetable." Thankfully, one of only 3 doctors able to perform this risky surgery operated in the Chicagoland area, and would be Greggy's surgeon.
Greggy's surgery was scheduled for Wednesday, Nov. 16th, 2005, and it was a scary time. Just a few months earlier, I'd created our 2nd TV program: "The Bone Jangler's Daytime Dungeon," a show I'd come up with for Greggy. Just 8 days before his life-or-death surgery, we taped what would become Greggy's TV debut, which would appear on episode #2 of "Daytime Dungeon." We had a great shoot, taping in a huge park, frolicing in the Autumn leaves. Talk about fun! However, this could've easily wound up also being Greggy's TV farewell.
Our nighttime show; "The Bone Jangler," first hit the television airwaves in September of 2001. In September of 2005, I created a 2nd show, a show that would air in the daytime, and be aimed at an all-ages audience, a show that Greggy could participate in, and call his own (even if I do all of the editing, etc.). On the first episode of "The Bone Jangler's Daytime Dungeon," I hosted the thing all by myself. Before we shot the 2nd episode, something called a "benign dermatoid," a sort of cyst/tumor combo, was found lurking inside of the area between Greggy's skull, and his brain. An operation would have to be performed, a very risky operation with a mere 1% success rate. The other 99% of people who have the operation die, or (worse, in my opinion) become a "vegetable." Thankfully, 1 of only 3 surgeons in the world capable of performing the procedure operated out of the Chicagoland area. The surgery was scheduled for Wednesday, November 16th, 2005. If we were to make certain that Greggy were ever to appear on TV, on his show, no less, we had to hurry.
On Tuesday, November 8th, 2005, we made our way to Fabyan Park, a huge sprawling piece of land, spanning both sides (and the middle) of the Fox River, that was once the home, and property of an eccentric man by the name of Colonel Fabyan, a guy who reminded me of Teddy Roosevelt, only with a lot more money. There, we taped a good hour's worth of footage of Greggy & I chewing up the scenery, and frolicking in the Autumn leaves. It was a fun shoot, and, whatever awkwardness there was with this being 5 year old Greggy's first time in front of the TV camera, it was more than matched by the cuteness of the whole thing. Greggy was, and still is, a good looking boy, and he was so small then. Gone was the growling, swaggering Bone Jangler, and in his place was a doting uncle/father figure, proud of his boy, and eager (in more ways than one, due to the impending surgery) to get him on TV, for all of the world to see. Later, after the show had aired locally, and then made it's way across the country, I'd receive e-mails from viewers saying things like, "I never thought a Bone Jangler show would make me cry, but I did." These comments were made in reference to the end credits scene in the show, where Greggy & I are playing Hide and Seek, etc., in the leaves. I write them back, and tell them, that, if those scenes made them cry, then, they'd best break out their Kleenex again, because the story behind the camera was much more moving.
With Greggy's surgery scheduled for the morning of Wednesday, November 16th, 2005, I was in a bad spot. Back then, I owned a comic book shop/used bookstore, and, Wednesday was (and still is) new release day. There was no one else who could operate the store that day, much less handle all of the pulling of ordered product for subscription customers. I would be unable to be in both places at once, and, if I were to close up shop that day, it would've severely hurt the business. Greggy's father, and grandmother, would be there for the surgery. I forgot to mention earlier that Greggy's mother died when he was only 1 year old, and, thus, couldn't be there, at least not in a physical sense.
That day, 8 years ago, was a very hard day for me. I got up extra early that morning, and raced to see Greggy, as he prepared to leave for the hospital. It was a very difficult time, and, I must admit, my eyes are tearing up a bit as I write these words. I looked at my boy a good long time, long enough to get a good look at him at every opportunity, but never so long in one stretch to alert him to the fact that he was headed off for something much, much more serious than he was led to believe. As I looked at him, I wondered to myself, "Is this the last time that I'll see you alive? Is this the end?" I may be omniscient as I choose to be at any given moment, but, sometimes, some things are beyond even me. The thought that he might die on the operating table, or become a lifeless "vegetable," was hard to fathom, yet, quite possible.
I made my way to my shop, and tried my best to go about performing the necessary duties associated with new release day. Lots of my customers took an early lunch that day, and spent it at my shop, so as to be there for me, and for Greggy. Online, at a little place called MySpace, thousands of friends rallied around, and, were "there" with me, with us. Hundreds of strangers were also there, having been forwarded the information via friend bulletins. Lisa Marie Presley, someone I've yet to meet, learned of Greggy's situation, and had devoted the front page of her website to Greggy, asking her fans, and friends, to pray for my little boy. I may not have been at my boy's side, but, I was not alone.
The surgery was scheduled for about 10:00am. At about 9:30am, I received a call. I knew it had something to do with Greggy's operation, as we didn't open until 11:00am, and no one ever called the shop until around that time. I nervously answered the phone. The surgery was over. They'd started it much earlier. The doctor, and his staff, were not anxious to have to cut a 5 year old, motherless, boy open like that, and perform a surgery that had only a 1% success rate. So, they'd decided to get on with the delicate work at hand. I was afraid to ask how it went, the earliness of the call having thrown me off. The doctor had previously thought that the dermatoid was the size of a pebble. When he got in there, he discovered that it was actually the size of 2 golf balls! Regardless of that unexpected surprise, the surgery went off without a hitch, and went very quickly. The doctor couldn't believe the result, and referred to the outcome as a "miracle." And, of course, it was a miracle. As the doctor had gone in to perform the surgery, he'd stated that it weren't his hands that were going to be performing the surgery, but, rather, God's.
When he returned to school a few months later, he was required to wear a helmet for certain activities, like gym class, which he wasn't supposed to participate in at all. As it turns out, many of his schoolmates made fun of him, having to wear that helmet, one of 2 scars associated with his surgery that he bears to this very day. However, he is alive, and well, thanks to our friends, fans, peers, celebrities, complete strangers, and, of course, God.
I have more to say about this subject, but, find myself unable to at this moment. Thank you to everyone who was there for my boy, those 8 years ago! And, if you're one of those who believe that miracles aren't possible, think again.
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