I meet people every day at my job. Most are healthy. A few are chronically ill. And some are dying. I pondered this one night. A patient I had just talked to was "actively" dying. He said he was at piece with what was going to happen with him, made the necessary arrangements and felt everything was okay. He was able to 'live' with a great sense of piece.
What is the difference between living and dying? It felt like I was running circles in my head. The two were so closely related I couldn't keep the lists from muddling together. He was dying but living more than he had lived in years. He was finishing things he had always wanted to do. He had waited all of his life. Waited to live until he was dying.
If something or someone is living, as all living things do, it is also actively dying. For example, flowers grow, blossom, reproduce, wither, and, die. Each step we take as living is actually a step towards death. My mind wants me to make sense of it, rationalize every aspect so I am at ease. I'll forget that I'm dying and assume I will live for another 40 years. I am dying way before I start living while like a flower I'm already withering. Too late to start living.
Okay, so I think I have this put to rest in my head, neatly tucked under my covers so I can sleep. It's starting to make sense. It makes sense only to raise another question. Why wait? Why wait until I am physically disabled by death to start living? Why wait until I am too emotionaly dead to care? Why not live and finish what I want to do today, I'll still be dying. And, if I start today, I will still be living.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Today was a Monday. Things do not always go the way I have planned. That is really nothing new but today I needed things to be easy.
It started with a quick trip to School 40 miles away to buy a book for a class. I had planned on picking up my book on the first day of class but the weather canceled school. I thought I could get it today, so I drove to pick it up. I was needing this book for an assignment that is due tomorrow. We'll today I pulled into the school parking lot to find not a single car around. Yep, it's a Monday. Monday, Martin Luther King Juniors National Holiday. No book.
Who is the first person you call? Me, I call my husband, mad and almost in tears. He understands and tells me to drive over and get a mocha' latte'. Good advice until you finish the last drop and realize you have just ingested 1000 calories. Why did I just eat that?
The next person I call is my Good Friend Tammy. She is a great friend. When I mention My Good Friend Tammy, even to people who know her, I address her as My Good Friend Tammy. I'm not quite sure why, but she is a Great Friend. Colleges have laughed at the name I have given her, but no one has ever said a bad thing about her. So, My Good Friend Tammy tells me how stupid every thing is. She tells me that this is pretty much not my fault, and to blame it on bad luck. She tells me that I'm not stupid and that I can just "wing" it.
I stop over at her house on my 40 mile drive back and we "wing it" all day long. I will probably get an F for a grade. I'm not really sure I care any more. We discussed husbands, kids, school, work, even death. In the end we both decided that it really doesn't matter what day it is as long as you can "wing it" , even if it is a Monday.
It started with a quick trip to School 40 miles away to buy a book for a class. I had planned on picking up my book on the first day of class but the weather canceled school. I thought I could get it today, so I drove to pick it up. I was needing this book for an assignment that is due tomorrow. We'll today I pulled into the school parking lot to find not a single car around. Yep, it's a Monday. Monday, Martin Luther King Juniors National Holiday. No book.
Who is the first person you call? Me, I call my husband, mad and almost in tears. He understands and tells me to drive over and get a mocha' latte'. Good advice until you finish the last drop and realize you have just ingested 1000 calories. Why did I just eat that?
The next person I call is my Good Friend Tammy. She is a great friend. When I mention My Good Friend Tammy, even to people who know her, I address her as My Good Friend Tammy. I'm not quite sure why, but she is a Great Friend. Colleges have laughed at the name I have given her, but no one has ever said a bad thing about her. So, My Good Friend Tammy tells me how stupid every thing is. She tells me that this is pretty much not my fault, and to blame it on bad luck. She tells me that I'm not stupid and that I can just "wing" it.
I stop over at her house on my 40 mile drive back and we "wing it" all day long. I will probably get an F for a grade. I'm not really sure I care any more. We discussed husbands, kids, school, work, even death. In the end we both decided that it really doesn't matter what day it is as long as you can "wing it" , even if it is a Monday.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Not the last to blog Okay, who ever said you do not have to do what everyone else is doing definitely did not have cool sisters like mine. Today I check my e-mail and found my sister has been blogging for quite some time. Now I know she is very sheik and does lots of cool things, but this is pretty neat. I also don't want to be the last of the sisters to pick up on this. May be I'm a little slow to catch on or am not paying attention, but I like to be in the "in crowd", even if it is only the four of us. So, today I will blog. Ill be able to say I have an account, which no one may read, and I can write what I choose. So sisters, blog on. What are you other two waiting for.
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