Robbie saved me tonight.
Earlier, after indulging in a nice bottle of Spanish red wine, I started a self-absorbtive entry invoking the Kubler-Ross stages of grief and where I thought I really am versus where I thought I think I am, blah, blah, blah... It was truly an invitation to a "pity party".
Then Robbie came in and wanted to play cars. So we played cars and in the interim I somehow lost the piece I had started earlier. That boy is my anchor through all of this and someday I want him to know that.
ANYway, I got a call from Dr. Cheson's office yesterday--he's the Georgetown heavyweight CLL researcher who's taking me as a patient--letting me know that they needed to move my appointment from noon to 8:30 a.m. next Wednesday. This really screws up my plans for next week. Thanks heavens for Jim and Elena Bjostad, my dear friends in Alexandria, who will be taking me in next Tuesday night, so that I can make sure I'm at Georgetown on time.
Anyway, instead of the incredibly depressing Kubler-Ross track I was going down earlier, let me change course and say that I find myself thinking (but not in a depressing way) about the finite time we all have, and how it makes me reflect on the things that I want to do "some day". If nothing else, my current situation brings into sharp focus the fact that you don't get forever to do those things: to pursue your dreams; to share your thoughts and feelings with people who are special to you. I've told myself, in different situations, "I will tell (blank) that I feel (blank) some day." But "some day" was always out there in some nebulous future. Now the future is not nearly so nebulous, or as open ended, as it once seemed. Well, this my "New Years" and my resolution is to make sure that I say those things that I've always wanted to say to the people to whom I wanted to say them sooner rather than later.
So let me start by saying to all of you who read this blog, "Thank you". I am awed and honored that you care enough to spend time reading my ramblings. Thank you for caring about me. Your thoughts and support mean more than I can say. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I am a blessed man living a blessed life. You--you sitting there reading these words--are part of that blessing.
P.S. A particular "Thank You" to fastcobra, shorty, and subjack. I have no clue who you are, but thanks for stopping in. If you feel compelled, drop a comment on this post and reveal yourselves, or send me an email at timothy.mcmichael@navy.mil. If not, I do love a mystery.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I completely understand how important Robbie is in this process. During a difficult (albeit completely different) time of my life Beckah was my anchor. Today she is still one of my best friends, which is so wonderful. Beyond the support, distraction and perspective Beck gave me I found incredible strength, support and inspiration in a group of friends sailing on the bay (are you humming Wagner? or, are you singing the Chicken Nugget song?). If you need any help with your anchor please let me know. For you I’d gladly move from pit to foredeck.
ReplyDeleteAlmost forgot ... good luck next Wednesday in G'town. Hi to Jim & Elena. I check your blog every day (it's a home tab for me) but I'll be especially eager to read your post after the visit.
ReplyDeletei love you!
ReplyDeleteit is so amazing what happens when we shift our perspective...a friend of mine is always saying that when we change our perspective, it changes our perception and ultimately changes our experience.
i feel grateful that you are sharing your experiences with all of us and i honor your strength, courage and openness on this journey.
i will support you in every way that i can.
i love you!
I got your Kubler Ross with my five stages of SIAP. You are right to stick with Robbie.
ReplyDeleteI second the five stages of SIAP. I'd say forget overanalyzing, just try to be present in the now with Robbie and the family. Perhaps you should take a read through Michael J. Fox's books about his disease. Pretty uplifting read.
ReplyDelete