It's been a really weird couple of weeks ... my nephew is on his 3rd distinct hospital stay in less than a month, first with what turned out to be Crohn's, then 4 days in a cardiac unit with an irregular (without discernible reason) EKG, and now 103-temp without infection. Oh, plus, recurring panic attacks. Yet he says all these incomprehensible ailments seem to force him to do exactly those things that have always been most tough for him. He's texting me insights sometimes hourly.
My best friend's Dad secured an unclear lung cancer diagnosis, had questionable surgery which prompted post-anesthesia dementia, spent two weeks at a completely incompetent rehab, was sent home without any instructions (her Dad signed something forbidding her from asking Rehab any questions), and died five days later. She was reeling, but at the same time we both said when this whole thing began ... her Dad was making weird medical decisions as if he wanted to get worse, not better. As if he wanted to die.
My dear sweet golden retriever was having an increasingly tough time hiking. I sensed something was wrong, but ... A trip to the vet became a four-day stay and, despite momentary improvement, all her organs shut down and we put her to sleep Friday before last.
At the same time our little nucleus is humming along just lovely. In the big scheme John, the kids, and I seem to be happier than ever. (Good solid crying about Jenna, notwithstanding.) And there's great stuff among my circle, too: a dream job secured, new kiln fired, work-transforming insights sparked & connections rooted firmly. Some of it really huge and exciting.
Things seem to be intense. The good, the bad, the beautiful, the painful. It's all just BIG, one way or another. And swift. It's like the universe has lost its subtlety --you got an issue or illness you've been ignoring? Yeah, well, we're gonna get your attention! Ambivalent about something? Forget that -- time to make a choice. Have a dream you've been working steadily on awhile? Yeah, well, hang on 'cause here it comes full force.
My best friend said she hasn't had a normal day since March 5th, yet I'm not sure what normal is anymore. I used to define my to-do list each morning, assuming my rational step-by-step activities prescribed my fate. Lately I've been writing down what I want instead -- everything from a quiet productive morning, a restful night's sleep for my ravaged nephew, a peaceful transition for my suffering dog, and some relaxing weeks for my friend. That seems to be the only thing I can genuinely affect. These days a good loud "I want ..." seems the only way to get me safely, sometimes even joyously, to the end of the day.
