Darren Tyler
Darren Tyler founded Platform Management in 10/01. He guides the careers of Kutless, Disciple, Stellar Kart, Everlife and Esterlyn. Believing that fame is a platform to speak from, Tyler believes that mentoring the artists is equally important to building their professional lives. In 06 he launched The Conduit. A gathering committed to serving Jesus with our lives and resources. To date, $70,000 has been given to the cause of serving the poor and vulnerable. www.darrentyler.com
His call to serve the poor
- By Darren Tyler
- Published 07/2/2009
It had been several weeks since I had seen my dad. It was circa 1983 and he had been sick for some time. It had become apparent that he wasn't going to be coming home anytime soon so we made a three hour road trip to Omaha where he was at the VA Hospital. It was my mom, all 4 brothers and my grandparents.
I don't remember much about the visit other than he had to come down to see us because hospital rules did not allow children in the patient's room. I remember that he looked really different than the last time I had seen him. I was too young to articulate it but losing 40 pounds can really change the look of someone.
What I specifically remember is after they wheeled him back upstairs we waited there with my grandma for what seemed like hours. It seemed like it because it was. Years later I would learn that the reason she was gone so long was that my dad had gone into cardiac arrest and had actually died before being resuscitated. All the while we were blissfully unaware and stir crazy in the waiting room. When my Mom and Grandfather came downstairs they never said a word.
I don't mean this to be a commentary on government controlled health care, but what started as a simple appendicitis had grown to my dad being hooked on prescription meds and dying. This all happened in the squalid conditions of a VA hospital. It was after this moment that my mom decided to take matters into her own hands.
Alongside of our pastor Patsy Busey, she went back to Omaha with our dear family friends Duane and Diana Covey. They were told he was too sick to leave and that they wouldn't allow him to go. Knowing that staying was just as much of a death sentence Duane informed them that he would kick down "every damn door in the hospital" (as it was later quoted to me) to find him. He was a marine corp. vet and they believed him.
My dad was soon on the way to a faith based nonprofit hospital in Oklahoma that took in people whether or not they could pay. We fell into the "could not pay" category. Within moments of being seen he was diagnosed. He was addicted to prescription painkillers, a fact that was overlooked for months in the government operated hospital. The VA had locked him up in a psych ward and medicated him out of his mind.
With the Christ centered nature of the treatment he received in Oklahoma he was out and on his own in just a couple months. He's been clean for 30 some years.
This time of year, I'm reminded that addiction tried to steal my father. It wasn't a government hospital that pulled him through, it was Jesus and those that were listening to His call to serve the poor.
I don't remember much about the visit other than he had to come down to see us because hospital rules did not allow children in the patient's room. I remember that he looked really different than the last time I had seen him. I was too young to articulate it but losing 40 pounds can really change the look of someone.
What I specifically remember is after they wheeled him back upstairs we waited there with my grandma for what seemed like hours. It seemed like it because it was. Years later I would learn that the reason she was gone so long was that my dad had gone into cardiac arrest and had actually died before being resuscitated. All the while we were blissfully unaware and stir crazy in the waiting room. When my Mom and Grandfather came downstairs they never said a word.
I don't mean this to be a commentary on government controlled health care, but what started as a simple appendicitis had grown to my dad being hooked on prescription meds and dying. This all happened in the squalid conditions of a VA hospital. It was after this moment that my mom decided to take matters into her own hands.
Alongside of our pastor Patsy Busey, she went back to Omaha with our dear family friends Duane and Diana Covey. They were told he was too sick to leave and that they wouldn't allow him to go. Knowing that staying was just as much of a death sentence Duane informed them that he would kick down "every damn door in the hospital" (as it was later quoted to me) to find him. He was a marine corp. vet and they believed him.
My dad was soon on the way to a faith based nonprofit hospital in Oklahoma that took in people whether or not they could pay. We fell into the "could not pay" category. Within moments of being seen he was diagnosed. He was addicted to prescription painkillers, a fact that was overlooked for months in the government operated hospital. The VA had locked him up in a psych ward and medicated him out of his mind.
With the Christ centered nature of the treatment he received in Oklahoma he was out and on his own in just a couple months. He's been clean for 30 some years.
This time of year, I'm reminded that addiction tried to steal my father. It wasn't a government hospital that pulled him through, it was Jesus and those that were listening to His call to serve the poor.
