Didn't Have the Heart

What's your favorite restaurant?

It’s your favorite? Why? The food? The ambiance? The service?

In my case, it’s all of the above.

Most people’s favorite involves dinner -- sometimes lunch. Mine’s breakfast.

Joe’s on the Green -- it’s less than a mile from where I live on the south side of Kauai. They serve the best huevos rancheros!

Restaurants and vegetarians don’t usually mix that well. Whoever Joe has for a chef -- he or she knows their way around the kitchen!

And the ambiance? What could be better than an open-air restaurant, smack dab in the middle of a golf course! -- thus the Green in Joe’s on the Green.

To be honest, the real attraction for me is the service -- more specifically one of the servers: Diane -- a tall drink of water, as they say. Not particularly good looking -- rather plain, actually. Not sexy or sensual. Just down-home friendly. Always an ingratiating smile. Kinda reminds me of a hippie who’s grown up -- at least insofar as her disposition is concerned. Loves everybody -- but not in a sexual way. Casually rests her hand on your shoulder as she takes your order. It just feels right when she’s nearby -- so much so that I make it a point to go there when I know she’ll be working. She always serves the same tables.

I’m married. Don’t know her status. Don’t need to know. Have no plans beyond huevos rancheros …

* * *

I think Kauai attracts mavericks -- maybe, like me, they just don’t know how to leave once they get there. Dr. Spear is a good example.

I first encounter him at RadioShack. Over the holidays I think I can pick up some extra Christmas-present money, hiring on for a few weeks during the holiday break.

At the conclusion of my six weeks there, the manager calls me into his office. Apparently I’m the number-one salesperson -- not just for Kauai -- but for all 26 stores throughout the Hawaiian chain! It helps to have a working knowledge of computers and musical keyboards … I sold them out of 13 computers and all 28 keyboards in stock …

Dr. Spear is a gadget freak. Has to have the latest and greatest everything -- be it cellular technology, home Wi-Fi, speakers, and all things computer. He likes to pick my brain. When he finds out I’m a programmer, he invites me to his clinic in Hanapepe to see if I can help him set up a Dial-a-Doc web presence. From that moment on, I have a personal physician!

He’s actually two doctors in one -- Originally, he was an ER physician. Later he added Family Practitioner to his skill set. Everyone in his family is a doctor -- his father, his brother, his sister.

Once, as a youngster, when he caught a cold, his doctor/father sent him to a highly-acclaimed ear, nose and throat specialist -- where he contracted polio. He still walks funny. But that doesn’t stop him from surfing with the best of them!

If I ever get a cold, or have some kind of pain, I stop by his clinic.

He has a large waiting room. He’s the only doctor in Hanapepe as well as having an extensive patient list that spans the entire island.

I sign in at the bottom of the waiting list, with a dozen or more patients ahead of me. I’m waiting patiently. He must have told his staff to let him know whenever I show up. Invariably, moments after I arrive, the nurse is calling me, as if I’m next in line.

Once, he even sent a patient he was examining back to the waiting room to clear the room so he could find out what was ailing me!

Another time, he had the nurse bring me into a room where he was examining some woman. Her husband is standing in the corner. Without even introducing me, Spear continues examining her while questioning me, trying to figure out why I’m there.

Mavericks … You gotta love ‘em!

One day, he calls me on my cell phone. This isn’t unusual. Whenever he has an idea of a technical nature, or a problem with his hardware, he gives me a call -- day or night. Doesn’t matter. This time, he says he wants me to meet someone. Could I come right away?

Sure. Hawaiian time is flexible. Contractors building new homes, drop everything -- along with their entire crew, to hit the beach if there’s a good set of waves coming in.

When I get to his clinic, the nurse hustles me back to his office and gently knocks on the door. “Mr. Ruskjer is here,” she says.

Spear waves me in. Already seated is an enormous man -- Not that tall, but every bit of 400 pounds or more. Nicely dressed. Has a white hat in his lap and is holding a cane.

“I want you to meet Frankie,” Spear says. “You two share a common interest -- computers. Frankie’s a walking time bomb. He could die any time. Bad liver. I wanted you to meet him while he’s still breathing.”

Frankie puts up with this. He obviously has a good rapport with the doctor.

The backstory, according to Spear, is Frankie needs a new liver.

Eight years ago he was on the donor list, slowly making his way to the head of the class. They call him to tell him he’s next. Could he come in and fill out some paperwork? That’s when they ask about insurance.

He says he’s covered under his wife’s policy -- the one the court just finalized their divorce earlier that week …

Back to the end of the line …

That was three years ago.

Starting over, he’s managed to move up to the halfway point. The good doctor doesn’t think he’ll make it to the finish line.

Frankie invites me to tour his upstairs computer installation. I’m amazed he can even navigate the stairs. It's slow going, but he makes it. He opens a door to what amounts to a walk-in closet. Two floor-to-ceiling racks go from the front of the room to the back -- maybe 10 or 12 feet each -- with an industrial strength air conditioner that keeps the room at a comfortable 65 degrees.

“What’s all this?” I ask.

“I handle 70 percent of all the porn that comes out of Asia. These concentrators collect and distribute it to the West Coast,” he proudly says.

Pornography isn’t my thing, but I do have questions as to how much of the process is automated.

“All of it,” he says. “I’ve got a backup generator out back with enough fuel to run this room for 72 hours in the event of a power outage. Power runs through uninterruptible power supplies that keep everything running during the crossover.”

This would be impressive anywhere, let alone on a dinky, backwoods island like Kauai in the little town of Hanapepe with a population of around 300.

I thank him for the tour …

* * *

My second favorite food spot on Kauai is Taco Bell. I hit it every time I do a client run up north. Imagine my surprise three weeks after the porn-o-tour to see Frankie in his big white Cadillac, sitting in the parking lot.

I go over to say, "Hi!"

“I’m just waiting for my girlfriend,” he says. “She’s in the optometrist’s office in the building next to Taco Bell."

The surprise part of Imagine my … is when his girlfriend comes out of the building. She smiles and waves to me as she gets into the passenger side of the Caddy.

It’s Diane!

What in the world is she doing with Frankie? I wonder.

OK, he is Italian. But that’s a whole lot of Italy tilting the left side of that Caddy …

Takes all kinds.

* * *

Shortly thereafter, I get another call from Dr. Spear. Frankie’s dead. The good doctor wonders if I could help Diane find a buyer for all his computer gear.

Since I’m already on the west side, I stop by.

As usual, Spear clears his schedule. We talk in his office.

He tells me Frankie had been in the hospital in Lihue for a series of tests that would take several days. While there, he chances to meet Lisa -- a 19-year-old -- who’s come in to get a deviated septum fixed. Basically her doctor will anesthetize her and chisel out some cartilage from inside her nose.

They get to talking.

He tells her his liver-transplant story.

She thinks that’s just terrible!

She says, “If something were ever to happen to me, you could have my liver,” probably just trying to empathize.

Frankie seizes the day.

“Are you just saying that, or do you really mean it?”

She gives that a little thought, then says, “Seriously -- if something were to happen to me, I’d rather you have my liver than to have it rot with me in some casket somewhere. I’m not even a donor.”

Frankie pauses before asking, “Would you be willing to put that in writing?”

She sees the first sign of hope in his eyes liver-wise.

“Sure,” she says.

The only paper Frankie can put his hands on on short notice is -- you guessed it -- a paper napkin. Carefully he pens the language that affirms what they’ve just discussed. Then he buzzes a nurse in to witness Lisa’s signature.

The nurse thinks it’s a nice gesture. The prerequisite is clearly that the girl be deemed brain dead. What are the chances? She’s a 19-year-old girl in the prime of her life!

* * *

Turns out her chances are 100 percent …

The very next day, the surgeon miscalculates the density of the cartilage he’s chiseling. Drives the chisel straight up into her brain …

Game over.

Word travels fast in a small-island hospital. Doesn’t take long for Frankie to realize the import. He quickly grabs “the napkin” and wheels himself down to the surgical suite.

Amid the chaos, one of the doctors tells him to wait outside, but agrees to take the napkin to legal. They quickly determine it is indeed legal and binding.

Plans are immediately put in place to fly both Frankie and Lisa -- figuratively and literally now on ice -- to Los Angeles, where a hospital, better versed in liver transplants, has two adjoining surgical suites at the ready.

They anesthetize Frankie on one table, while extracting Lisa’s liver in an adjoining surgical suite. After four hours of surgery -- Frankie’s heart gives out. They try repeatedly to reestablish sinus rhythm, but to no avail.

* * *

A week later, I’m at Joe’s on the Green. Diane sits down beside me. Would I be interested in Frankie’s equipment? She says she has no idea what it’s worth, or even what it does for a living. It’s not for me to enlighten her.

I tell her I can probably put her in touch with someone who might be interested.

She doesn’t seem upset or distraught. She’s known his days were numbered. Now it’s time to move on …

To this day, I’m told she’s the same sweet Diane …

* * *

Methinks I should have been a hippie …