March 26, 2009 The Funeral Mass

Today wasn’t supposed to be anything special, but it certainly ended up being one to remember. Since I just had my sixth radiation run today and nothing else, it wasn’t going to be a day driven by the normal trips to the doctor, but I’m not so sure it was all that easy.

Julia had an out-patient procedure done this morning. (Don’t worry, she’s great.) It gave me a little opportunity to be on the other side of the IV for a change. It certainly didn’t make it any easier. If fact, I think it is easier for me being the one under scrutiny. I tend to be a worry wart and just knowing that she would be under anesthesia made me a little squirmy. Luckily, everything went very quickly and very well and I didn’t have to sweat bullets for very long.

We had to be at the hospital at 7 AM and they took Julia in fairly quickly. I brought my laptop to get a little work done. As I do every morning before I get going I took the opportunity to check out the Dayton Daily News. You just never know when something important might be happening with the Flyers, Reds or Browns. To my surprise, on the front page was an article about one of my “Cancer Clan” (March 6, 2009).

http://www.daytondailynews.com/o/content/oh/story/opinions/columns/2009/03/26/ddn032609dale.html

In reading the article, there was one sentence that really jumped out at me because it really was a topic that had never been discussed with any of my doctors.

“The average life expectancy is four to seven years.”

Ouch. There was a real slap in the face. When you get cancer, you know that the clock is ticking. However, you often don’t know how long you may have. After reading that sentence, the ticks seem a little louder.

The thing I have going for me is my age and overall health. Since this is an old person’s disease (generally), I feel like I can beat that number. Don’t give me a challenge, I get pretty stubborn when somebody tells me I can’t do something. Just ask Julia. Well, maybe it would be better if you didn’t. Just pretend you didn’t read that last sentence.

After getting Julia home and snuggled up in bed, I took off for the Funeral Mass of the grandfather of a good friend of mine at Isagenix. I never had the pleasure of meeting Lupe, but from all accounts he was a nice man that probably didn’t have many stops on the way to heaven after he passed. However, this was my first funeral after my diagnosis.

Boy, talk about a different level of scrutiny. I’ve never paid so close attention to what was said and sung during the mass. All of a sudden, when they brought the casket down the main isle, it was difficult not putting myself in his place. What would my funeral be like? What would people think and say? Would all of the waitresses from Hooters come to say their last goodbye?

It was hard. My eyes filled with tears more than I care to think about. I know I’m going to beat this, but when you can even faintly hear the tick, tick, tick, everything is looked at a little differently. It makes you appreciate the things that you have been blessed with and make sure you say the things to people that you should have said all along. There is no time to waste anymore, I know that. Make sure you appreciate what you have and spend less time watching reruns, I know I have.