I took a test online today proporting to predict how long I can expect to live. I answered a couple dozen questions about my habits, my health and my family history. When I finished it, I hit send and quickly learned that, according to the program's formula, I can expect to die of cancer in April, 2013. They even included a little cartoon character with a large bump on his forehead. The character looked nothing like me, he was nearly bald, but I do have a small lump of some sort in the exact same location on the right side of my forehead.
I don't normally take tests like this online. I don't put much stock in them. But reading that I have 27 months, more or less, left to live certainly got my attention. I suppose I should go consult with someone who attended medical school instead of wasting my time with online tests. If I had health insurance, I certainly would. If I could afford to pay a doctor out of pocket, I would. But right now, it's all I can do to keep the lights on and eat regularly. A doctor's visit is a luxury I can't afford these days and I know I'm not alone on that count.
The test didn't specify what sort of cancer I can expect to kill me. It didn't even mention the lump on the cartoon character's head. If it predicted lung cancer, I could understand. I did admit to smoking for the last 40 years. But that lump on the head seemed like a message too strange to ignore.
Sometime in the next few weeks, I will consult with a doctor. After all, if I am dying in 2013, there doesn't seem to be any reason to try to save what little money I do have. I realize that a lot of folks wouldn't want to know if they were dying, but I'm not one of those folks. I'd consider it a great gift to find out I was dying two years in advance. I just hope the test results aren't overly optimistic.
There was a time when I would have freaked out at the idea of dying in 2013, but that time has passed. If the computer is right, I'll make the best of whatever time I have left.
In December, 2005 my wife and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. To mark the occasion, we took a trip to Hot Springs, Ark. It was a trip I had planned years before that was cancelled by the death of my first child in 1993.
On the ride over to Hot Springs, we talked about our years together. It hadn't always been easy. There were plenty of tough times, plenty of fights and foolish quarrels in 25 years, but things were good in the last days of 2005. We talked about the houses we'd lived in, the road that had taken us from Asheville to Hilton Head, back to Asheville and later, to the wilderness that was Madison County. We talked about all the twists and turns on the road that brought us to Memphis. And we had a good long laugh when we realized how little we had planned for any of the many changes we'd seen in 25 years.
At one point, I took her hand and told her that if it all ended tomorrow, I would be a happy man. I told her I'd had a full life, full of both joy and sadness. I told her that if it ended tomorrow, I would never feel I'd been cheated by life. And I thanked her for being a part of my life. She told me she felt the same way and patted my hand and smiled that smile that only I got to see.
We both knew we had reached a turning point in our lives, in our marriage. We knew that our firstborn would be getting married in 2006. We knew, too, that our baby girl would finish high school and start college in 2006. I was looking forward to an empty nest, probably much more than Cheryl was.
But we never quite made it. We were together when Amy graduated and somehow were made it through our older daughter's wedding. But within a few months of the wedding, we found out that Cheryl was dying from liver failure. There was hope for a transplant, a miracle, but the prognosis was not good. Sort of like the one I received from the computer today.
Cheryl was the strongest woman I have ever met. She fought the disease bravely and endured months of chemotherapy without complaint, without pain-killers of any kind. She wanted to live and never gave up the fight.
I'm not that strong. I won't tolerate much pain by sheer will power. And I won't fight. After seeing what she went through with chemo, I want no part of it. I won't suffer that kind of pain just to extend my life a few months, or even a few years.
Cheryl had a will to live that I just can't summon. That conversation we had on the way to Hot Springs has played over in my head many, many times in the last few years. My opinion has not changed in the least. If it all comes to an end in April, 2013, you'll hear no complaints from me. I've had a full life and certainly haven't been cheated.
In my nearly 59 years, I've seen as much of the world as anyone could ask for. I've lived in big cities, and small towns, in suburbs and way out in the country. I've lived in the north and the south and even in Germany. I've lived in the mountains and on the shore and it's all been a great adventure. I've been in love many times, always with great women. I married two of them and raised three children I'm very proud of. I've also buried my parents, my brother and my Cheryl.
If the computer is right, I'll go without complaint because it's my time.
No comments:
Post a Comment