The other day, an inch or so of ice fell overnight, covering every surface and the branches of the trees. The next morning, I was watching the birds flitter around among the branches in my backyard, trying to stay out of the freezing rain that was still falling. Feeling bad for them, I went out and threw some bird seed on the patio and on the picnic table on our deck. Then I sat at the kitchen window and waited to see who would be the first to discover it – the juncos or the titmice. After about 20 minutes of watching, not a single bird had noticed the seed. They continued to flit around on the branches either trying to stay dry or stay warm. And many seemed to be trying to pick at the ice in search of food. But none saw the seeds I had thrown even though they stood out boldly on the table. My offering was undiscovered yet not undiscoverable.
As I thought about these avian knuckleheads, it dawned on me that their situation is a good analogy for me. Until now, I have been so busy focusing on and dealing with the immediate changes in our family life – the chemo routines, the scans, the side effects, the disability paperwork, how the kids are coping, etc – that I haven’t thought at all about the long term. In fact, I said to someone recently that I don’t think farther than a week or two ahead because I don’t know what the future will bring. I have been staying out of the rain and trying to stay warm.
Now that we’re getting the routine down a little better, and having received a hopeful result from my first scan, I think it makes sense to start thinking a little more long term. How can I make the most of, and be productive, during the better days during this chemotherapy? What happens when I come off of chemo later in 2009? How will I handle returning to work? Do I want to change my outlook on what’s important in life based on this experience? Are there things I want to do now, before a potential downturn in health would make it impossible? What’s really important to do and what do I do just because it’s there and it needs doing? And many more questions …
These are the seeds on my picnic table which have been undiscovered by me. I’m still in the trees, shedding the rain. But they are not undiscoverable. Up to now, I have blogged mostly about the mechanics of cancer therapy. I may blog more in the future about these bigger issues. One thing I have learned is how great and diverse and creative and intelligent my friends and family are. Perhaps in sharing some thoughts that go beyond the mechanics, it may prompt you to share a perspective from your experience. Or, perhaps it will even prompt you to address something in your life that you’ve been meaning to focus on but daily life has been getting in the way!
Stay warm! BB