Tegan first … Still no actual medical updates as we had to reschedule her appointment this week due to my and Christie’s romantic getaway to NYC. But she’s getting around okay (dare I say improving, even) and is super psyched it’s Halloween weekend!
As for me … Biopsy on Thursday went off without a hitch. Same drill: they tried to knock me out with Fentanyl, I resisted and said a bunch of stupid stuff, they rolled me around trying to find the best place to impale me, then the doc went to work. They went in the upper back this time. Several hours and a few xrays later (lung did not collapse), and I was back at hotel with C watching t.v. and eating Dunkin Donuts.
Woke up Friday morning to an email from MSK with their pathology report on chest tumor sample I had done in Reston few weeks ago. It’s very odd to lay in bed staring at an email knowing its contents may determine the path of your life. It’s just … bizarre. I said one more prayer, let go, and opened it. The report agreed with what Georgetown had to say: thymoma – but MSK went as far as to suggest a classification, and it was a good one … without getting into medical mumbo-jumbo, it appears to be one of the most treatable kinds. All in all, the MSK report was a huge blessing!
So here we are, waiting for what is likely the last big piece to the puzzle: what’s in my lungs. A part of me wants to just leave it at that. But as I’ve said repeatedly over the past month or so, I believe in the power of prayer, and I know it’s the prayers of family and friends that have taken us this far. So, I’m just going to lay it out there: please continue to pray for us – that we get good news this week and can jump right into a treatment plan.
Now for the important stuff:
I’ve got time on my mind tonight – specifically the passage of it and how we process that. I came up with a theory years ago that I like to think is original (I say it that way because I wouldn’t be surprised if someone reading this points out my “theory” is already established wisdom in the world of philosophy, psychology, or neuroscience). Anyway, it goes something like this: our perception of any segment of time is defined by the % of our “memory life” that segment of time represents. Hold on now – I’m not mixing Scotch with my Diet Mountain Dew – just let me explain. Take Aedan and I. Let’s say we all begin establishing memories at age 4 … Aedan’s 14, so his “memory life” is 10 years. I’m 51, (but let’s just call me 54 to make the math cleaner), so my “memory life” is about 50 years. So, 1 year represents 10% of Aedan’s memory life, but only 2% of mine. Thus, Aedan’s perception of the passage of 1 year is 5 times longer than mine. This explains why time seems to accelerate as we age – why summers seem to last forever when we’re kids, yet fly by when we’re older.
I’m thinking about all this, of course, because for the first time in my life I’m thinking about my own (insert cringe) … mortality. Now, you may react to this in one of two ways: 1. “Geez, Joe, I stuck around to read this gibberish cause I thought there might be a laugh or two in here. And what’s up with the Brian’s Song tone – didn’t you just get some good news?” or 2. “Wait, you’re just now thinking about your own mortality?” On the first point, I can only say man cannot live on Diet Mountain Dew jokes alone, and, have no fear, I assure you this little digression has a happy ending. On the second, well, it’s not exactly like I’ve been walking around thinking I’d live forever, but let’s just say certain life events do have a funny way of focusing one’s attention in new and interesting ways.
Anyway, we all know what you get when you mix a whole lot of thinking about the passage of time with musings about mortality … a wicked cocktail of well-worn cliches and movie quotes: the present is a gift; stop and smell the roses; carpe diem; get busy livin’, or get busy dyin’ – that sort of thing. Better be careful, or next thing you know, you’ll be pulling out the guitar and writing a country western tearjerker. I’m not going there (if only because I suck at guitar).
But I am stuck on the time thing. Man, is it flying by. And man, would I love a do-over! Especially the last 20 years. All of it. Every second of my marriage and the raising of our four kids. Good times and bad times. Just hit the reset button and do it all over again. That’s not a sad thing, mind you, it’s a happy thing. Anyone that can look back and want to relive a life in its entirety is blessed beyond the deserving of it.
Anyway, I realize, of course, every second I spend wanting to go back is a wasted second today. And no matter the mess we find ourselves in at this very moment, I also realize there will come a time in the future when I’ll actually want to return to it – that I’ll actually look back on this time with warm nostalgia, as odd as that sounds. I’ve known this all along, I suppose. I was wise enough to write the following words 20 years ago, if not wise enough to take them to heart in my own life (I hope it makes sense out of context):
Like pieces of clay in the kiln, the memories of both the gardens and the great volcano had been fired by time, hardened into their final forms, and intricately decorated by his imagination in the years following their initial shaping. The result was a collection of artwork—ornamental pieces of his past—which he adored. And he recognized then, in the warmth of the sun upon his skin, the present conception of another such masterpiece.
That’s the trick, isn’t it? Realizing the memories we’ll one day long for are actually alive and unfolding at this very second. That there are at least small blessings and moments of magic to be found amidst the trials, tribulations, or simple mundanity of any given day, if only we have the wisdom to recognize them. I took that to heart this week. Yes, Christie and I had to drive to NYC so that I could get a biopsy of my lungs. Yes, we made the trip in the middle of a global pandemic. Yes, it was cold and rainy the entire time we were there. Yes, I was exhausted the whole time and feeling like I’d been Cobra-Kaied in my chest and back. Yet, somehow, the trip’s already a fond memory – the aforementioned “negatives” outweighed and outshined by the many simple moments of joy: wandering the streets of NYC with the love of my life, getting killer smoothies at Hawa on 1st Avenue, meeting up for a few minutes with my cousin’s son (a wonderful “kid” I used to hold on my lap – he’s now 30!), that first sip of coffee after the biopsy (IMO the worst part about fasting before any procedure is being deprived of morning coffee), hanging out in the hotel, watching a marathon of Alaskan Bush People. C’mon, really? Does it get any better?
Same for last night – Halloween. I have a confession to make. I’ve wished away a few Halloweens over the years. I love the time of year, I love kids, and I love fun – but something about the logistics of taking 4 kids trick-or-treating has occasionally made me long for the arrival of November 1. Not yesterday. For the first time in, what, 25? years, I actually wore a costume. Steve Harrington – oh, hell yeah. And although we couldn’t really go trick-or-treating, our wonderful neighbors (thanks O’Neills and Lyons!) pulled out all the stops so Tegan could have some fun and bag some loot. Then back home for a pasta dinner and family movie. Absolute magic, man.
So, here’s to my refound appreciation for the present moment … yet another blessing to come out of this whole thing. Here’s to the next 20 years – I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy them even more than the last 20! And here’s to the memories – yours and mine – we’ll be creating today.
God bless all, and once again, thanks for the prayers and support …