Sunday, January 5, 2014

Just in Case

I am vacillating between acceptance that what will be, will be, and worry.  As you may have noticed, it is my nature to worry.  I find that tears are not far below the surface, and mostly people seem not to understand why I am still so worried, even though the tumor wasn't, isn't cancer.  I worry, though, that there may still be a problem of SOME sort.  I worry about the weird tumor thingy that isn't cancer, but could still kill me (who knew such a thing even existed?!).  I worry that there is cancer, too, and they just haven't found it yet (I read some incredibly frightening medical journal articles, and one of them mentioned that people with this thing I had have an increased risk of concurrent colon cancer and should be screened).  I worry about the weird pain in my side which started this whole thing, the source of which is still very much unknown.  I worry.  I will hopefully worry less after talking with my doctor this weak at my post-op appointment.

But despite the worry, I am also okay.  I am hyperaware of time now, and thinking a lot about how I want to spend my time.  I know that I need to hope for the best, but also prepare, because tomorrow is promised to no one.  There are things that are really important to me that I want to do, which I've long had in my head as "some day" projects/tasks, but which now have taken on more urgency.  I will post soon about my goals list for 2014.  Clearly, I want to spend lots of time with my family.   But I also want to create a more thoughtful, cogent estate plan.  I want to create books for the girls of their lives to date, full of photos and the blog posts I try to periodically write about their progress.  I want to write them a book full of advice and wisdom, just in case I am not here to share it with them in person.  I want to be sure that I have prepared, just in case.  I hope to never, ever need it, but I want to have considered the possibilities and prepared for the less desirable alternatives that life could throw at us.  We've done it, to some extent, but not as thoroughly as I would like.  

This trip home has been such a reminder, too, of how quickly time passes.  Our friends and relatives are aging, and with all of the time we spend away, we feel it acutely.  It is so true that the days are long, but the years are short.


S said...

Here from LFCA. . . I hope your recovery from your surgery is going smoothly and am so glad to hear that what was found was not cancer. Healing vibes sent your way.

Jess @ said...

Keeping you in my prayers *hugs*
The years are definitely short. I don't blame you for wanting to get those things accomplished, because I know I would too.

Anonymous said...

Even as an adult the few pages my mother left me are among my most treasured possessions. To see her words and be able to hear her voice.i lost her too young but was an adult andi read those several timesa year and then ball my eyes out. I think it's a great idea to do for your kids.