I don’t like thinking about the what if’s. I’ve always tried to encourage my girls to not ask “what if…?” because it usually isn’t something that has high probability of actually happening when they asked.
But…I find myself now asking myself “what if…?” What if I have stage 4 lung cancer? What would I need to take care of before I have to go? Who would love my daughters and be there with them through all of their milestones? They have each other but mom won’t be there. Who would fight for them and support them and encourage them they way only I can do for them? Will they be okay? Yes. But their lives would be without their mother. Is it my pain that I would take with me that I’m leaving them so young or will they suffer the way I have from losing my dad (and mom)? And of course, what about my cats? They mean so much to me that it brings tears to my eyes to think that I wouldn’t be there anymore when they come in my window for my love and affection. Who would love them like I do? Who would see how beautiful each and every one of them are and be committed to being there for them til the end?
This is a “what if” that haunts me. Anyone that knows me at all, knows I have had a horrible cough for years. Only recently I’ve felt deep pain in my chest and my joints have started to ache, and my eye sorta droops now and then. I have been so tired lately and keep seeing my life flash before my eyes. It’s all the things I haven’t done or seen or shared with my daughters. I’m too young to be a grandmother but I really don’t think that statement is fair. Would I be too young if I only had six months left to live and my grand-baby is supposed to be born in 5 months? Yeah, I’m young, too young to die. That’s for sure. I can’t ignore the nightmares I’ve had where I see my daughter falling off a high-rise building or off the golden gate bridge, backwards, looking up at me with terror on her face and in that moment, I jump off too because I can’t live without that girl. I want to go with her. I’m usually startled awake. But that shit sits inside me and makes me question why I would ever dream something so horrible and then I can’t help but fear the “what if’s”.
I confided in someone about this and the reaction I got was somewhat cold. He said that when I talk like I have lung cancer, I’m making myself believe I have it and that that will give me a higher chance of getting it. Now, I understand the power of positive thinking opposed to negative thinking. I make a CONSCIOUS decision every day to be positive. But when you are sleeping peacefully and all of a sudden shocked awake with a morbid, heart wrenching nightmare, that shit is in the sub-conscious mind. The part of your mind that we aren’t sure how in-tune it really actually is. I tend to believe that our sub-conscious mind knows more than our conscious mind can handle and we consciously force ourselves to ignore those painful, sub-conscious thoughts. Those are “what if’s”. Impossible. Inconceivable. Absurd. Or are they?
Needless to say, I am planning to go to the doc. The ObamaCare crap has made it so confusing to get medical insurance so I’m working on that. Maybe I need to practice what I preach to my girls and never ask “what if?”. I need to know but I don’t want to know. In this case, if there wasn’t so much at stake, I wouldn’t bother asking “what if” but I don’t want to leave yet and if I can catch something bad early, maybe I’ll never have to worry about any of these things until I’ve lived a full life and loved my people deeply enough so they will never once question my feelings for them after I am gone. I don’t know.