Not long after I joined the Marines and was assigned to my first ship detail, I met a Naval Officer that insisted on getting a tattoo. He would tell me his grandfather got a tattoo which read “Italy Forever” and had a small black rose under it. His dad did the same thing and he said he was going to do the same.
We were in Okinawa for 3 days and told me and another Officer that tonight he is getting his tattoo and would we go along. We agreed. Fast forward……….We lost contact with one another for about 25 years when I received a letter from a man whose name I didn’t recognize until I opened it and read the letter and he reminded me of the tattoo.
He said he wanted me to know that because of that tattoo, he was dying of liver cancer. Somehow the ink got into his blood stream and settled into his liver and somehow, I don’t know or understand it, he got this small tumor, which after getting it checked was found to be cancerous. I never heard of such a thing and didn’t believe it, so I went down to the medical unit at Walter Reed and asked if this is or was possible. I was told by the Chief of Oncology, a Dr. Hoffman that Yes, a small percentage of people can get cancer from a tattoo, but usually it’s because the needle was never sterilized. To me, that now made sense.
I went to see this former Naval Officer while I was in Pensacola and he was married and now living in Tampa. Thankfully, because I was an Officer, I was able to track down his DD-214 and get his current address. When I showed up at his house, I think he was stunned. I was still in uniform and he gave me a huge hug and began to cry. He asked me why would you come all the way here just to see me? I told him his letter stuck in my crawl and I just had to see him because he was dying as he said in the letter. He looked very sickly. He was cold all the time and had a very heavy bathrobe on, even though it was 94 out. He couldn’t sleep or eat and was sick all the time from the drugs. He said he had less than a year to live.
I was sitting in my office in San Diego when I got a phone call from him. I was surprised. He said guess what? I don’t know, what? The doctor told me that if they can find me a new liver, I may be able to live. That’s great, I told him. A few weeks or months later, he had a match with a young fellow in Arizona who was dying from a gunshot wound to the head. He’s brain dead and as soon as the parents sign off on pulling the plug, they will harvest his organs and when he gets the call, he needs to be leaving for the hospital. The liver transplant was being done at Tampa General. The doctor told him he may not wake up. There’s always a chance he could die during surgery. He consented.
Here it is about 8-10 years later and he’s still alive, although not without complications, including having to have kidney dialysis 3 times a week. He said he was feeling pretty good and was able to get some enjoyment out of his life. He has to take anti-rejection medications the rest of his life, but he said no matter what I have to do, I’m alive and I get to watch my grandchildren grow up, which is all I ever wished for.
I would still like to know was it the ink or the needle? I watched the tattoo artist and I couldn’t remember if he swapped needles or not. They tried to talk me into getting a tattoo my whole career, but I never took the bait. One of my Sergeants even offered to pay for it, if he could pick it out. I told him absolutely not. I never even considered it. I did think about getting my one ear pierced, so when I was in my street clothes, I could wear it, but my girlfriend at the time asked me to please don’t. She had a spell over me. Anything she asked for, or anything she asked me to do or not to do, I obeyed, except when she asked me not to go zip lining, I had to tell her, “Sweetie, I love you with all of my being, but this boy is going zip lining and you’re going along.” She refused all week until we got to the place where they had the zip lines set up. There’s different degrees and heights. She did the novice zip line and loved it.
