We humans are strange animals. Despite all evidence to the contrary, we sometimes think things will always stay the same. Like a horse with blinders on, we only see what’s in front of us. If times are bad, they’ll always be bad. And good times will always stay that way.
Even in small things, I’m apparently human. If it’s been sunny for a week I forget to put away the lawnmower, then, at two in the morning, I hear rain on the roof and make a mad dash to save my expensive machine from rusting.
The cardinal sin of any boater
I once took my family out for a sail. We spent a good part of the morning packing up with food, firewood, and clothing for a weekend campout in the islands. It had been such a nice morning that I committed the cardinal sin of any boater: I didn’t check the weather reports.
It was overcast by the time we left the harbor, but the waters were fine. Until that is, we left the bay and rounded the point.
The waves were a bit high, but nothing the boat couldn’t handle. For the people aboard, however, it wasn’t going to be fun. Sailboats don’t move like powerboats and take a bit of getting used to. Some of my family members hadn’t been out on a boat much, and never on a sailboat.
Let’s just say they hadn’t developed their sea legs yet. Half the crew was turning green. I could feel the wind building and saw cold, gray clouds on the horizon. It wasn’t a day for a family outing in Puget Sound.
We turned around and found a picnic spot back on land.
Speaking of that sailboat, the human in me thought I’d be sailing it for years to come. But, not long after that summer, a tree fell and demolished the boat. I don’t know if I’ll ever be raising a sail again.
Appreciating the good times even more
So, here’s the thing, my CLL (chronic lymphocytic leukemia) is still in the wait and watch stage, so I’ve been feeling pretty good lately. This has put me into human mode. I’ve skipped regularly scheduled blood tests. My walking shoes are gathering dust. And the weights I bought last year are still sitting unused in the corner of my office.
And that Mediterranean Diet I was going to start? Let’s just say I’ve sailed away from Europe and headed to a small island in the Sea of Stupidity where they never grow vegetables and only serve greasy foods and ice cream.
I’ve even slowed down on writing posts for Blood-Cancer.com.
There’s a line in a Paul Simon song that goes like this: “And so I’ll continue to continue, to pretend, my life will never end, and flowers never bend with the rainfall.”
The days are sunny now and I’m not complaining. I can’t let worry ruin the good times, but if I remember the weather can change, perhaps this human will appreciate the good times even more.
Have you met another blood cancer patient?