Every day, I work hard. I write, study, and work on my book business. I help other people. I spend time with family and friends. I do the usual life-maintenance things: cooking, cleaning, exercise, bill-paying. I try to get enough sleep and I worry about all of it. This is a normal American life.
And then something happens to drop you right down to the bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. I’m facing surgery for possible ovarian cancer. Hang on, I don’t know if I have it! Maybe not. Maybe it’s a cyst. Maybe it’s scar tissue from previous surgeries.
However, OC killed two of my aunts, so I’m taking this seriously.
What is Really Important?
While preparing for surgery, it’s hard to focus on the things that typically make up my days. Most of it seems unimportant now, but when I’m back to normal, I’ll return to my usual routine. And there’s the question: should I?
My constant obsessing about happiness, balance, the afterlife, work/love/energy/health – that’s all important if you have the luxury of time and energy. If you are preparing for major surgery and possibly a rough period after that, though, everything changes. I’m trying to clean things up for my husband and son, you know, just in case? And what a nightmare.
Consider all of my files. What if they have to figure out what the hell to do with them? How will they know if it’s straight to the trash or something more important? I have about 75 user name/password combinations to access certain services. What will they do with those? Some of them are linked to automatic charges on a credit card. How will these two good men, assumedly who wouldn’t be dealing with this mountain of work unless they were also simultaneously grieving, deal? It’s a horrific picture, so I am trying to reduce and organize the things that make up my life.
A Delightfully Creepy New Perspective
As I go through all of it, as I make phone calls and explain to people that for the next few months I won’t be at their meetings or clubs or writing for their newsletters or editing whatever, I come to this conclusion: much of what makes up the flurry of my life is unimportant.
“The prospect of being hanged in the morning concentrates one’s mind wonderfully.” – Mark Twain
Forced to contemplate my priorities, I come to the conclusion that they are my health, my husband, family and friends. My writing. Golf. Um, what else? Uh. Let’s see. Hmmmm.
You know what? I can’t think of anything else that deserves to take up my days. The simplicity of this perspective delights me. I feel lighter. I feel ready.
Good morning, Lynne. You are in my thoughts and prayers. I am going to think positive that everything will be good with you. I know what you mean about worrying if papers are in order. I do the same thing. I could imagine my daughter having a nervous breakdown if she had to sort things out. When she visits, we talk about paperwork and then we end up going shopping or out to eat. And nothing gets done. Tomorrow-tomorrow—My little book keeps getting in the way. Yesterday, Barnes and Noble signed me up for a book signing in November. I am excited about it. Again, I’m thinking about you. With love and best wishes. Carolyn
Carolyn, Debbie and Kathy, I so appreciate your kind comments. I have been overwhelmed by the support I’m getting. A real nice silver lining. I’ll keep you posted.
Lynne: I will keep you in my prayers as you muddle through this ordeal. May your doctors find that this is nothing serious; may you be restored to good health. You’re so right — we hang in here by a thread and all we can do is trust that everything is in the Hand of God! Thank you for sharing this personal, nerve-wracking journey. Feel well soon because we’re going to miss hearing from you!
My Dear Lynne,
My heart goes out to you during this time of uncertainty. The perspective you share is really a gift and lesson for all of us to take count of the things that matter in our lives, today, right now and to put things in order. It’s times like this that we come into the full awareness of the preciousness and fragility of life, a blessing in itself.
Please know that my thoughts and prayers for peace and healing are with you and your family. I am sending positive vibes across the miles. I am believing in God’s miracles and have learned to expect them. I will expect nothing less for you. Believe that with all your heart.
I am here for you in anyway you may need,Lynne
Thank you for sharing. I will look forward to getting your updates.
With Faith,Hope and Love,
Kathy