A Super Myriad of Emotions

I talked a little about this on Twitter recently but long story short I had a precancerous polyp removed about two weeks ago.

Of course, I didn’t know it was precancerous and I didn’t know I even had a polyp. The nurse conveyed that information to me as I was coming out of anesthesia. I was realllllllly out of it and I was trying to comprehend this information. She mentioned that the polyp was rather large and they were rather concerned about it and it would be sent for a biopsy.

In the eight days that passed between the procedure and being told that it was precancerous I went through a myriad of emotions.

Like, a super myriad of emotions.

I’m a planner and I take comfort in routine. I like predictability. I plan ahead and tend to get into a bit of a tailspin if something causes the plans to change. I look forward to the plans themselves but there’s also the comfort in knowing what the upcoming week has in store, whether the plans are fun or mundane. The point is that I usually have a fairly good idea what the next few days will consist of.

This looking ahead stretches to planning for the year as well. My job is very structured and I have a good idea what the end of June will look like as well as the middle of November has in store. The whole year is more or less known in advance. I like that.

This helps me plan other things in my life, whether it’s a household project, traveling for work, or a MN T-Girls event, or anything else.

The eight days between my procedure and test results put everything into question. Would I be going through radiation therapy? Would it be too late for that? Would I still be able to work? If not, how could I afford to live or receive medical care?

I have never been faced with a potentially serious health issue so my mind was all over the place. I was also forced to reflect on my life. It’s been a good life. It still is. If this was the beginning of the last part of it, then I knew I would be leaving the world with a satisfied mind.

Through all these thoughts, I started to make a list. Lists help calm my mind and I was also grateful that if this was indeed a fatal diagnoses I would be able to prepare for it. I have a fear of dying unexpectantly and then my wife having to deal with wrapping up my affairs or the more practical stuff. The practical stuff would include sharing the access to our mortgage company’s website so she can pay the mortgage or making sure she still knew my passwords in the event she needed to log into my email.

Stuff like that.

This stuff also included letting you all know that I wouldn’t be blogging anymore as well as sending an email to the MN T-Girls. The plan would be to write something that would be posted and sent if I passed.

Morbid maybe, but I am a planner. I wanted to be able to say goodbye, I like proper endings.

It was a long list. It too was a reminder about how much I love my life. Sure, no one likes paying their mortgage but it’s a reminder that you have a place to live.

I could go on and on and on about the feelings of fear and gratefulness and the other emotions I felt during this time but I think you get the picture.

The call from the nurse came on a Friday afternoon. The polyp was indeed precancerous which means that it would have likely evolved into cancer. It’s not always a sure thing, but the likelihood is there. The doctor felt they caught it in time and they were not concerned. I will go back for another procedure early next year.

Obviously this was a huge relief.

…But after the relief passed I couldn’t help but think “well, now what?”. Which is an odd thing to think. I tend to be fatalistic and when something happens I plan for the worst and it’s hard for me to snap out of that once my mind goes down that path. I was, in a sense, preparing for intense medical care with the possibility that my life would be, more or less, winding down. Or wrapping up. Whichever.

During those eight days I realized how at peace I was with my life and how I experienced more than I ever dreamed. I also realized that although only a fool would ask for more, I wasn’t prepared for major changes my life would have if/when I would need treatment. Preparing for the colonoscopy was very unpleasant and I am sure similar steps would need to be taken if I needed treatment. I suppose I was at peace with the idea of death but I was scared and unprepared for aging and the inevitable deterioration of my body.

People say life is short and I don’t necessarily disagree. But I think life is long. I marvel that I am close to marking five decades on this planet. I think about all the moments this life has had, whether it’s people I knew in school or my first apartment or my wedding day or concerts or trying on a bra for the first time or going out en femme for the first time to countless other moments. What a life.

Over the last year or so I’ve really acknowledged that whether or not you feel life is short or life is long, there will likely be a point where we can’t do what we wish to do anymore. Right now if I wanted to take my dogs on a hike I could do it, easy-peasy. Cleaning the gutters? I can do that. Strut around the Mall of America in four inch heels? Yaaas queen.

But there’ll be a day when I can’t do anything like that anymore. Yes, I’ll be alive but aspects of my life will be nothing more than a memory. That’s when I think the grieving, if you will, begins.

And today I am grateful. But I am not sure how I react when I realize I can’t do those things. Will I be grateful that I could? Will I be grateful for the memories? Will I be bitter, angry, mournful, depressed? I don’t know. I really don’t.

Regret is a scary thing. It’s often felt when you realize that there’s nothing you can do about it. Sure, everyone wants to go to Italy (or whatever) but there may be a time when it’s just not possible. You may feel regret that it didn’t happen and you realize that’s it too late to travel.

I think about what I want to do with my life. When I was in my twenties I decided on a life goal. I achieved that last year. So that’s sorted. As for Hannah? My wildest dreams have been surpassed.

So again, now what?

As I get older I care less about failing. I am not as bothered as I used to be if something doesn’t work out the way I would like it to. This feeling has lead me to taking more risks and not feeling discouraged as much as I used to by setbacks. I care less and less about what others might think. It’s… freeing.

Of course, it’s not as simple as that. A nasty comment on a posted picture can bother me for a day or two, something going wrong at work can consume me longer than it should. But I suppose that’s just how I am wired. I think it means that I care about my work and that I care about how others may perceive me.

Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean I will change if others express their disappointment. But I do listen to criticism. I listen to see if they may have a point. Often times there is feedback worth considering, a perspective I hadn’t considered. Not always, sometimes people are just cruel, lol.

Sometimes I am told I write about death too much. That my writing focuses on things that some are uncomfortable about reading or thinking about. I admit I am rather pragmatic when it comes to acknowledging that life is a finite thing. My perspective is that it’s important to accept that we are not immortal and that the day will come when we can do no more. The day is coming when we can’t take the dogs for a walk or wear the four inch stilettos anymore. Those are the days that I dread.

When the nurse called, I was walking my dogs. We live near an old cemetery and it’s a peaceful place to be in. It’s quiet, it’s beautiful, it’s humbling. Some of the gravestones are as far back as the 1800’s. Some of the souls who are resting there moved on from the world after a very short life. Getting this call in a cemetery was… well, I am not sure what it was. Not ironic. Not fitting. I suppose it was more about getting a call when I was doing something that I know will one day not be possible… which is simply taking the dogs for a walk.

I ended the call, spoke to my wife, and walked home.

Now what?

I thought about a song by Mike Scott and I felt it was a pretty appropriate mindset and attitude to have.

Open to the world
Open to spirit
Open to the changing wind
Open to touch
Open to nature
Open to the world within
Open to change
Open to adventure
Open to the new
Open to love
Open to miracles
Open beloved to you

Open to learn
Open to laughter
Open to being blessed
Open to joy
Open to service
Open to saying yes
Open to risk
Open to passion
To peace and silence too
Open to love
Open to beauty
Open beloved to you

If you’re paying attention, life gives constant reminders that there is beauty in it. I don’t think I needed a reminder to be open to adventure and to be open to risk, but I’m grateful for it.

Anyway, listen to your doctor, have that testing done, buy those stilettos.

Love, Hannah