Just like that, the first decade of the new century is gone. It was a drive-by, as decades go, shooting off into memory like a getaway car with a Hemi. I’ll do a rundown, eventually, but first can I just say that so far, 2011 stinks?
My brother’s back in the hospital, my husband’s aunt had a heart attack in her sleep and died, my sister-in-law just discovered a lump in her breast and they’re waiting on news about her husband’s lung biopsy. I’m awaiting news on my brain MRI, and my stomach growls from the 6-hour fast I’m doing in preparation for this evening’s PET scan. The hubby had to go to Tierra del Fuego (yes, Chile, Antarctica, land of 7.1 earthquakes), where it’s summer—maybe 60 and raining?
As I strip the lights from the trees and ponder the future, I realize I’m supposed to be cleaving to the New Year’s Resolution I just pulled out of my butt: to TRY to be at peace with whatever comes, to be accepting of life…and death, if that’s what’s coming. It’s been coming for a while, I need to get over myself and accept it already! And after 29 episodes and a post-series feature of Dead Like Me, I think I feel better. Or maybe I just have George’s voice (Millie, the narrator and main character) in my head. I related to that character in so many ways. Somewhere along the way I got sidetracked and started cooking but aside from that and going to college, I swear she’s the voice in my head. She keeps saying you never get over your own death, but if it happens, oh well. It’s not so bad. So I’m attempting attitude adjustment but 2011 isn’t cooperating.
*F word here* I wasn’t supposed to exercise 24 hours before the scan, but does doing housework count as exercise? Undecorating the house can be pretty strenuous. I guess I should just lay around and…blog. Since I can’t eat. Damn. At least it’s sunny.
This year, if I live (yes I know, it’s weird to preface things this way, but just being realistic here), I’d like to read, exercise, and garden a whole lot more. I’d like to actually craft or make something, damn it. I have photos to print and frame, things to sew, stuff to throw out. Oh wait, that’s another category altogether. When I make jam, I wonder if I’m wasting time. Then I run out of jam or don’t have any to give away, and I feel wretched. So I think it’s back to jam-making this year. If I live 😉
Well okay, it wouldn’t be a new year if I didn’t say that this year, I want to go back to Europe. I may have one trip left in me (maybe more, but I should concentrate on surviving and not get too ambitious). Traveling’s become difficult, but I’ll do it till I can’t walk. That’s the bottom line, obviously.
On the cancer front, a fix for Tarceva (tyrosine kinase inhibitor, to be exact) resistance is about 18 months away. I’d like to live that long, and I’m hoping that’s not just a rumor. If not a cure, then I hope there’s another stable rock I can jump onto for a bit. It’s not about breaking that 5-year record (only 2% or some really small number of lung cancer folks survive beyond 5 years, regardless of stage), it’s about seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Do I like being a beacon of hope? You know it.
With all the death, illness, and strife all around, the message I’d like to convey is (a cliche, but worth repeating)–Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Really. Today. And if you wake up tomorrow, do it again. Because you could find a lump or die in your sleep or something else so unexpected could change your life so rapidly that whatever you had planned could become just a dream in a flash. So live, love, and laugh as long and hard and well as you can and know how, now, while you can. Being happy is the priority and while all those responsibilities have to be dealt with (hello, Medicare decisions), try to find joy each day.
So do I end this to embark upon stripping the Christmas tree, or do I lounge about and read The Tales of Beadle the Bard? I think you know.
Cheers, everyone, and Happy New Year. Let’s hope 2011 straightens up and flies right soon.