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Dec. 11th, 2013 09:09 am'tis the time of Scanziety... my CAT scan was yesterday but I won't learn its results until Thursday of next week. It is odd, what that uncertainty will engender. It has become usual for me to have dreams that play out the worst of the 'what if' scenarios - probably a cynical holdover of the "don't get too complacent" lesson we learn growing up.
So I decided to ride this one out and actually roll with it. What if I was out of remission? What would I do? I guess first I'd want to learn what the probable prognosis was - how long, approximately, would I have? And following that... do I, or don't I, tell anyone. I know - that sounds weird, "Of course you'd tell" you may be thinking. After all, there is my husband and my sons to think about. But the truth is I don't know if I would tell them or not. Not at first. I think probably not. The thing about being me is that I've been the comforter in our family, very rarely the comforted. I would want to give myself time to absorb the news and to process it. And then I'd have to think about how best to break it to my spouse. He has always believed, since we met each other, that he would die before me. It is a comfort to him and anything other than that would be a betrayal by the Universe on a scale I cannot even imagine. No. I'm not kidding. His normal reaction to anything dire happening to me (or threatening me) is complete and absolute - total - denial. It isn't going to happen, I'm being a scardy-cat or hysterical, this is the stupidest thing ever since it isn't based on reality... on and on. I just can't see myself arguing with him about my own mortality. It would waste most of whatever time I'd have left. Sure, he'd end up convinced in the end but why destroy the (however brief) months of good times that I'd have?
And following that would be "do we tell other folks right off the bat or wait until I become house/bed-bound?" I think I'd like to tell folks relatively early, so they'd understand why I was backing out of jobs I have and not volunteering for others, but I don't know. People get weird when they have to face mortality.
And then there's that 'bucket list' that so many people have suddenly started to focus on.
I don't have one.
Never really thought about one - there are too many things I'd "like" to do to narrow it down to a numbered list, and most of those are just daydream material, not things I'd seriously want to devote myself to doing. I've already been living what would be the top numbers on that list. I've had children. I've lived to raise them and they love me. I'm in a hobby group that stretches my creativity, my skills at research, and my desire to serve. I have a faith that is fulfilling and basic.
There isn't much more beyond that besides 'the trimmings'. Anything else would just be flourishes on the things I already have.
I would, though, make a point of clearing out my junk from our home. Even the Legos. Because as much as I know my family says they'd cherish this or that, the truth is that none of them really treasures that stuff for itself but rather for the fact that I love the stuff. So sorting out the dross and saving a few specific items to pass on seems wiser. And as far as Legos go - selling those would bring in funds to buy the newest sets, which I could build and enjoy and then sell again. It would be a case of diminishing return, but hey - it'd only have to last for a little while.
I'd have to start teaching my husband how I handle the bills and our accounts. In his family, it is the woman's job, not the man's. Except for taxes, strangely. Our sons have the recipes for all of the dishes they loved growing up. I don't have copies of them here - but that would be okay since Bossman rarely eats anything I've home-cooked anyway. He's grown into a sandwich-and-chips kind of dinner eater.
Other than making final arrangements (because I know Mr. Denial would freeze solid if he had to face that), I think that covers everything I'd be concerned about. What about you? Have you ever thought about what you'd do, what you'd need to take care of, should you have a life-deadline?
So I decided to ride this one out and actually roll with it. What if I was out of remission? What would I do? I guess first I'd want to learn what the probable prognosis was - how long, approximately, would I have? And following that... do I, or don't I, tell anyone. I know - that sounds weird, "Of course you'd tell" you may be thinking. After all, there is my husband and my sons to think about. But the truth is I don't know if I would tell them or not. Not at first. I think probably not. The thing about being me is that I've been the comforter in our family, very rarely the comforted. I would want to give myself time to absorb the news and to process it. And then I'd have to think about how best to break it to my spouse. He has always believed, since we met each other, that he would die before me. It is a comfort to him and anything other than that would be a betrayal by the Universe on a scale I cannot even imagine. No. I'm not kidding. His normal reaction to anything dire happening to me (or threatening me) is complete and absolute - total - denial. It isn't going to happen, I'm being a scardy-cat or hysterical, this is the stupidest thing ever since it isn't based on reality... on and on. I just can't see myself arguing with him about my own mortality. It would waste most of whatever time I'd have left. Sure, he'd end up convinced in the end but why destroy the (however brief) months of good times that I'd have?
And following that would be "do we tell other folks right off the bat or wait until I become house/bed-bound?" I think I'd like to tell folks relatively early, so they'd understand why I was backing out of jobs I have and not volunteering for others, but I don't know. People get weird when they have to face mortality.
And then there's that 'bucket list' that so many people have suddenly started to focus on.
I don't have one.
Never really thought about one - there are too many things I'd "like" to do to narrow it down to a numbered list, and most of those are just daydream material, not things I'd seriously want to devote myself to doing. I've already been living what would be the top numbers on that list. I've had children. I've lived to raise them and they love me. I'm in a hobby group that stretches my creativity, my skills at research, and my desire to serve. I have a faith that is fulfilling and basic.
There isn't much more beyond that besides 'the trimmings'. Anything else would just be flourishes on the things I already have.
I would, though, make a point of clearing out my junk from our home. Even the Legos. Because as much as I know my family says they'd cherish this or that, the truth is that none of them really treasures that stuff for itself but rather for the fact that I love the stuff. So sorting out the dross and saving a few specific items to pass on seems wiser. And as far as Legos go - selling those would bring in funds to buy the newest sets, which I could build and enjoy and then sell again. It would be a case of diminishing return, but hey - it'd only have to last for a little while.
I'd have to start teaching my husband how I handle the bills and our accounts. In his family, it is the woman's job, not the man's. Except for taxes, strangely. Our sons have the recipes for all of the dishes they loved growing up. I don't have copies of them here - but that would be okay since Bossman rarely eats anything I've home-cooked anyway. He's grown into a sandwich-and-chips kind of dinner eater.
Other than making final arrangements (because I know Mr. Denial would freeze solid if he had to face that), I think that covers everything I'd be concerned about. What about you? Have you ever thought about what you'd do, what you'd need to take care of, should you have a life-deadline?
