The 100 Dollar Bill Story.
“Money on its own means nothing. A one-hundred-dollar bill sitting on a table is a piece of paper. It’s the energy around it that makes it relevant. That one one-hundred-dollar could have been slipped into a birthday card by your granny, or you could have stolen it from your best friend when she wasn’t looking, or you could have earned it by doing something that you loved, or you hated.” This is an excerpt from the book Your Are a Badass. I was reading it on a long car trip with my family.
My husband, our 6-month old son, and I were on a 7-hour car ride from Pensacola to Tampa, FL. We were snuggly packed up into our blue Honda Civic. Eventually, we had to pull off the highway to get something to eat. My husband wanted a very particular local fast-food fried chicken restaurant. I made at least a couple of smart comments about how this place is adding a good 20–25 minutes to our drive. “It better be good,” I said.
The book was in the self-help category. For the longest time, I couldn’t get myself to pick it up. The title was so obvious in screaming: “You need help!” None the less it had a profound effect on me. Just as we were pulling up to this gotta-have-fried-chicken joint, I finished reading the page in the book that asked you to do an exercise: “Sit your broke ass down and write a letter to money…”
I thought: “This is cute, but I don’t have any issue with money,” at the time I was working a 9–5, driving a Honda, and never questioned my lifestyle. I closed the book and went on with my life, it was finally time to stretch our legs.
We got inside and I was utterly unimpressed. I picked a table and started giving my son a bottle while my husband ordered. The place was empty, except for a group of 4 sitting in the back of the restaurant, they were two older couples. Our food was ready just as they were walking out. All of a sudden, one of the women started swaying and stumbled into one of the tables. I couldn’t help but stare, something about this scene was really odd. The woman recovered, took a couple more steps, and started sliding onto another table. Without taking my eyes off her, I started shoving my son into my husbands’ arms. He was confused, I said: “Take him, now!”
I ran up to the woman as she was still fighting gravity. Her body was sprawling across the table, dripping over onto the neighboring booth seat. My heart was pounding, I thought she was having a heart attack.
I lowered her onto the seat and got on my knees, trying to look her in the face for any other signs of a medical emergency. Was she perfusing? Was she having difficulty breathing? Was she pale? I took her hands and kept asking: “What is it? Are you ok?” She finally looked up at me with embarrassment and said: “I have MS.”
“O, just MS? Thank God! I thought you were having a heart attack!” — I selfishly replied. We both let out a laugh and it felt like a gasket was released. She said: “Many people think I am drunk in the middle of the day, it’s really embarrassing.”
MS stands for multiple sclerosis. It is a disease where the body attacks the sheath that covers the nerves. Because the sheath can no longer conduct the signal, the motor function of the body gets severely impaired. For her, an attack happened as they were walking out. She was in her late 50s, early 60s, and she was recently diagnosed, but the progression of her disease was fast. She never knew when they would come on and so they often happened in public. She recalled how one woman publicly scolded her, telling her she should be ashamed of herself because she thought she was intoxicated.
For 4 years, I worked as a Doctor of Physical Therapy at one of the country’s top Neurological Rehab facilities. I loved gait training people who were recovering from spinal cord injuries and brain injuries. During that time, I also had a few patients who had MS.
We both knew that even though she wasn’t having a heart attack, this disease will leave her bedridden, and it was coming soon. We laughed some more, we cried some more. Completely outside of my usual restrained self, I told her: “I love you.”
I helped her walk to her car. Slowly we got into their truck. She mustered every ounce of will and strength to walk the short distance. I was proud of the fight in her.
Her husband couldn’t thank me enough. He said he felt so bad that he couldn’t physically help her. He was a retiree recovering from recent heart surgery and he wasn’t supposed to lift more than 10 lbs. Just as I was about to head back inside, the husband stretched out his hand to me. He was holding a 100 dollar bill. I froze for a second, thinking, should I take it?
I said: “No, no, no! I can’t possibly take it. That’s not why I did it. It would make this whole thing seem wrong.” Before my crude decline, there was so much love and connection between perfect strangers, but I could feel the energy shift. The wife looked embarrassed, the man looked dumbfounded. Their friends standing in a circle did not know what to say, it was awkward.
The man tried to play it off: “O, it’s just a dinner, on us.” But I continued to push my selfless hero act. Finally, the friend intervened and said: “Just let it be, you are embarrassing her.” We said some more goodbyes, and I went back inside.
The whole event left me riding an adrenaline wave, but it wasn’t over. As soon as we got back in the car, I started nearly screaming at my husband. I was trying to tell him about what just happened. It came out something like this.
“Babe! I was just reading this book! And they have an exercise about a 100 dollar bill! And you’re supposed to write down what you think about it! And I thought it was stupid! But this man just offered me a 100 dollar bill, and I turned it down. But now I want it! OMG, I think money is dirty!” My husband was merging on the highway, shifting gears as I was trying to get this out. Our precious 2008 Honda Civic didn’t have much power. We quickly got passed by a white pickup truck. His license plate said: HVEFATH, “Have Faith.” I was beside myself, completely exuberant. I said: “Babe, Babe, look at that truck’s license plate!!!” Even my fully rational and logical husband couldn’t help but smile.
Looking back on it. I was the perfect person to help that woman at that moment. And that family and that book were the perfect teachers for me.
But, besides the lesson on money, I could no longer deny that a supreme power exists. Something beyond us that’s always there, regardless of our awareness. It gave me chills. I ordered the same custom plate as I saw on that truck. I hope it gives someone else a much-needed message when the time is right. It is a simple reminder to have faith in life’s detours, have faith in yourself, and have faith in the magnificent universal soul that connects us all.
