We Are All Going To Die Anyway
But Not All Of Us Live…
My article yesterday touched a nerve. There were lots of comments, stories shared, and reactions. Gotta say it delights this writer to see the words I pounded into my computer resonated with so many.
But yeah. On the other hand, it resonated with so many. (Insert frowny face emoji here.) This is a sobering topic.
Cancer delivers a twofer in the punch department. The first wallop is the diagnosis. I’ve got WHAT? It’s serious, you say? Biopsy? WTF?! Lob my boobs off? CHEMO?!
The anxiety is ridiculous. But as my fellow pink sisters told me, the anxiety DOES settle down when you get your treatment plan.
And then comes the next punch. The treatment itself. It is not for the faint of heart but yet, you DO feel faint of heart so tough noogies. If you want to beat the beast, you must. There’s nothing brave or heroic about this, even though friends may laud you as being such.
When you cross the finish line of your treatment, there is another whirlwind of emotion. It’s like being on a high-speed treadmill and then it abruptly stops. You are launched into the aftermath, your life as you knew it, has been blown to smithereens. And oh, btw, have you seen my boobs? I seem to have misplaced them.
But actually, I won’t be totally finished for another 5–7 years as I will take an estrogen blocker. (And this brings yet another world of side effects.)
These memories are all so fresh in my mind. After all, it’s only been ten weeks since my last chemo. The scars are still healing. There are still only about 6 eyelashes on my right lower eyelid. But hey, the eyebrows are coming back full force. Yippee.
So yeah, when I read about the 10-year risk of recurrence, this flooded me with painful memories. For me, the idea of enduring more treatment is worse than the thought of another diagnosis.
But what underpins this? Sure, the unpleasantries of high velocity diarrhea, mouth sores, hair loss, etc, etc. So much fun. NOT.
Underneath that is a reality that we don’t want to face:
We are all going to die. Buy the farm. Cash in our chips. Croak. Take the long dirt nap. (Insert your favorite euphemism here.)
100%. No exceptions.
In the western world, we bury (har, no pun intended) this truth with promises of a painfree, youthful life. And there is a whole death industry waiting for your final purchase before you shuffle off this mortal coil. (Googlepay, PayPal and all major credit cards accepted.)
But all the anti-aging face cream, vitamins and hyperbaric oxygen chambers still cannot cancel your upcoming visit from the death angel.
The poet Alan Seeger understood this, “I have a rendezvous with Death.” (And die he did, in World War I at 28.)
But us? Today? La,la, la, laaaaaa, I can’t HEAR you!
Unless, of course, you get a cancer or some other life-threatening disease.
The first question I had when I received the unwelcomed news was, “Am I going to die from this?” (Short answer, probably not anytime soon. Unless I fall down some flight of stairs Victorian style and break my neck. Or I choke to death on my spit.)
Fear of death can be paralyzing. And it keeps us focused on a future event that may or may not be twenty-thirty-or fifty years in the future.
None of us knows how we’re going to die. Cancer is just one of thousands of ways the heart can cease beating.
But if we don’t accept this reality, there is an even greater death-the unlived life.
A more important question to ponder is not “How will I die?” but “How will I live?”
Embracing death and its inevitability is, I believe, a key to living.
I love what one of my wise pink sister friends told me. She is a few years out from her cancer diagnosis and treatment and is facing the death topic head on.
She has planned her service, which includes ignoring the funeral industry and opting for a “green burial.” She’s also chosen the anecdotes and music she would like.
She feels empowered, she told me. I felt empowered just reading her words. She is embracing the reality. And living whole-heartedly.
She is modeling something most of us would do well to imitate.
Unasked for advice, by the way: Please get your will done. I mean seriously. SERIOUSLY.
We make our avoidance of the death topic crystal clear because most people do not have a will. Nor do they deal with their stuff as they age. (Think of grandpa’s garage stuffed to the gills.) This is something I have seen repeatedly in my work as a professional organizer.
This is yet another thing can be empowering.
Befriend the idea of death. Prepare as best you can. The rendezvous is coming.
And then live the short precious life you have been granted.
Thanks so much for reading. You can find me around the internet at www.theresawinn.com, on Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram. If you’d like to support my writing in a small way, feel free to buy me a coffee.
