Lessons on Trajectory

Over the past couple of months, I have learned many humbling lessons. The first is that whatever life trajectory you think you are on, you can be knocked off in a flash, and laid lower that you imagined possible. I recall when we moved to southern CA from the Bay area, a bit over twenty years ago, we had experienced the Loma Prieta earthquake there, the confusion, the loss of services for a while, the fear, and the aftermath. I vowed then never to be caught unprepared. I was co-chair of the earthquake preparedness committee for our local school, and we did the research, bought the equipment, found the storage space so that everything would be accessible, and we felt prepared. We had drills, teacher meetings, teams, and the whole nine yards. So when we left the Bay Area, I collected all of my necessary earthquake supplies for my new home in TO. Then the Northridge quake struck, and I remember crying out loud, “but I’m not ready yet”. Fortunately unhurt, I got my butt in gear and finished my preparations, got all of the necessary materials together, and was again (kind of) prepared. The question is: are we ever really prepared for what life throws at us? You go along as if every day will be like the last, and then a loved one becomes ill, or there is an unexpected death, or even worse, an expected death, one that you thought you were prepared to handle, one that might even be a mercy, and again, in your head, you say “but I’m not ready yet”. In your daily routine, there is room for the odd head cold, a sprained ankle, but no one is ever ready for a tragic auto accident, or a Boston Marathon bomber, curse him forever. My trajectory was set. I was a high energy, positive person, getting many many things done each day, enjoying life, smiling at every stranger, and fitting in the intermittent appointments that we all deal with: teeth cleaning, podiatrist, dermatologist, yearly mammogram, and then going on about our business as if these screenings were all meaningless tests to just get out of the way. This year, I had to postpone my annual mammogram, which I usually have in December, because I was sick and took the first available appointment in January. Within three days, my personal trajectory was a matter of memory, and I was traveling a new road. A suspicious lymph node had been found. New tests were required, not some time in the future, but NOW. The first surgery told the tale of breast cancer. Decisions to be made, how extensive a surgery, who to see, what to do. My brother, a doctor who had succumbed to cancer the year before was the person I always depended on to help me make decisions. I felt lost, not to mention angry. My second surgery was scheduled, performed, an oncologist joined the team, and I was on a road I never imagined. My life of perfectionism was going to have to take a back seat to this new trajectory. I was going to have to leave the “doing” to others, and not only that, how ever they managed to do whatever it was that needed doing, would just have to be sufficient. Many things have changed for me over the last couple of months. My husband has taken over my care and the running of the house. He has been an angel. I have learned to sit when others are doing stuff. I have also learned that if something gets done, not necessarily the way I would do it, but done all the same, that is just fine. I have learned that the warnings I have received from doctors and other experienced patients do not mean “everyone but me”, that I too must heed the signals, or suffer the consequences. I am sure that there will be other humbling lessons ahead, but I hope that I will take to them with greater ease that I have in the past. I will be telling you what I learn as I go along.