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Being human Reflections on Life, Being Human, and Medicine Reflections on the Christian Life Updates on my health

The Drive

I did the same drive one night last week. It had been seven months to the day. I was driving from Holland to Grand Rapids. Both drives were in my Mini Cooper Countryman. I clicked it into Sport mode just like I had done seven months earlier. “Let’s Motor Hard!” the dash flashed back at me. I could feel the power of the turbo push me back in the seat as I accelerated away from the stop and shifted through the gears. I had the same music playing. I hadn’t done all of this intentionally. It just happened. The song, “Chasing the Sun” came on. It was a song that hit me so very hard 7 months ago. The night of the 1stdrive I listened to it repeatedly. This time I listened to it once and then turned the music off. It hit me that I was reliving the drive of 7 months ago.

I turned the music off so that I could think. Things are different now. What has changed? What have I learned? Am I wiser now or am I just different? I wanted to hear what was inside my head. I turned the music off.

I realize now that I was angry the night of that 1stdrive. I was mad at myself. I was mad at the world. I felt like I had been pushing so hard and been living my life deferred for the future. That isn’t entirely true. But I felt such an intense feeling of FOMO.[1]My unspoken assumptions were crashing around me. I assumed that I had a lot of time. I assumed that I had retirement. I assumed that there was tomorrow to do, I don’t even know what, but that that tomorrow was there for whatever I wanted it to be there to do. And then it wasn’t.

I wanted to be free. I wanted to sail away on my sailboat into the sunset. For days on end. 

I wanted to get up in the morning and have margin. To be able to breathe and not feel pressured to get anything done. To be able to do things. I don’t know what but to be able to do them. To feel my own emotions. To think my own thoughts. To tinker. To go out to breakfast. To slow down enough to really appreciate the important people in my life. To drive slowly through life just because I felt like it.

That was when I started writing. I had to. There was so much in my head that I needed to put it down somewhere just to be able to think. I didn’t have any intention of blogging or sharing it at the time. I just wanted – or needed – to write.

As I continued to drive on “the drive” version 2 things felt different. What? How?

All of those former things are still important. I never want to lose the wisdom of that first drive. 

But there is more. There is a deeper wisdom. There is life without the anger. There is life not being driven by FOMO. There is life to be lived. 

In my heart I could feel the difference. My heart was trying to teach me as I turned each corner. It was gently telling me that there was a deeper wisdom yet that I needed to hear. I drove on.

I saw a man mowing the grass. Even with the windows closed the image was strong enough that my senses came alive in my mind. I could imagine the smell of the freshly cut grass. The cool evening air moving past my cheeks. The vibrations of the mower. The satisfaction of the smooth and even symmetrically groomed grass. I envied him. Smell it. Feel it. Experience it. Enjoy it!

The sensations are nice. They should not be ignored. They should be enjoyed. They should be tasted and savored and lived in the moment.

I drove further down the road, made a few turns and continued to drive.

Next was the tilled field. The raw dirt was visible. Still my windows were closed and the senses that came alive were not real but were in my mind. And yet they were as strong as if I were walking through the field. The earthy smell of the dirt. The soft clumps breaking beneath my feet. The warmth of the sun on my back. My mind was alive and filled with sensations again.

The wisdom was coming through.

I was able to hear and understand. I could turn the music on again and enjoy it.

“Dying is easy. Living is harder,” is a quote from the musical, “Hamilton.” That is not the music I was listening to, but the phrase seemed to capture some of what I think I am trying to say. We can debate the truth of that statement. I think it may not be completely true. Out of profound respect for those who are on the edge of dying we must acknowledge that we do not know how hard it is for them. But figuring out how to live is indeed an important challenge. And I think that is what I am hoping to convey.

It is easy to dream of doing great and amazing things. It can fill us with emotions as we aspire to more. We can plan and dream of the future. We can build and defer and hope. All of that is very good. But there is even more that is important in life.

This moment. 

This moment has immense value. That is the deep lesson. Not a deep need for something else. But to love the now. To appreciate the gift of the moment and to taste, feel, smell, hear and see the beauty and joy of the now. Not living for tomorrow. Not living for yesterday. Living for today. Living for this very moment.

So, what is different than the 1stdrive? I have been given a reprieve. There may be a future. I don’t know how long of a future. The cancer could be gone for good. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But there is enough room to begin thinking about a future. But that is suddenly not as important as the now. It doesn’t mean that I don’t strongly and intensely believe in the power of hope and looking forward. It just means that I also now believe in the importance and value and richness of “the now.”

Seven months ago, it was about all of the things that I might not get to do. It was about an intense pressure to experience tomorrow today. Now it is about really experiencing today today.

Today I had the gift to see a patient in the office. 

I actually saw many patients but living in the now is about each “one moment.” 

This was a moment of taking an anxious patient and their family and verbally holding them. Supporting them. Caring for them. “What questions do youhave?” I asked the wife when the patient was finished asking his questions. She was trying to make words and they wouldn’t come. There was a deep emotional sore underneath and she was struggling to remove the bandage so that I could see it. I did it for her. “So, what is going to happen?” I asked. We could then openly discuss the fears for his future, whether he would respond to the treatment changes and how long would he live. I could begin to answer some of the deep fears and pain that she was feeling.

That moment. 

Immense value. 

Not the future. There. Then. Now.

There were dozens of those moments and experiences. Every day brings them. That is the deep wisdom. To experience the world that God has given us today and to enjoy what it has today. 

I know that it is a fallen and broken world. There is pain and times when it is all just “not right.” But it is also a world that God once created in perfection. At times it still gives us glimpses of this perfection. It gives us glimpses of who He is. In the beauty that remains we can see His reality. We can feel the perfection of the plans that He has for us. 

In the love of a wife for her husband. The smell of freshly cut grass. The feel of the cool evening dew on your face. The earthy smell of fresh dirt filling your nose. The gentle kiss or touch of someone you love. The sun rising through the trees as the brand-new spring leaves are just popping out. The amazing gift that He gives me to be his minister of grace and love and kindness as a physician. These are all wonderous glimpses of God within His creation. Each glimpse brings meaning and joy to our lives.

After the 1stdrive there were a dozen thoughts about what I was going to do. Would I continue to work? Would we make dramatic changes in how we lived our lives? We looked at houses on the water. I thought about other things that I wanted to do. We talked about “bucket lists.” We thought about all sorts of things.  

But the truth is that God has given me so much. Honestly, now it seems shameful to me to not appreciate all that He has already given. As I think about a “bucket list” it doesn’t seem so important anymore. Will each experience really make me that much happier or fulfilled? There is a much different question. Can I be intentional enough to love what I already have?

A physician friend in another city returned to work after his cancer. I spoke with him several weeks ago. He told me that he is back at work because it is who he is. I didn’t realize it in the moment, but he has discovered deep wisdom. He is living and enjoying who he is and what he has. 

“Living is harder.” Maybe. Maybe not. But can you do it? Can you live? Can you enjoy the moment? Can you enjoy the gifts of the now? 

Look up from your phone or computer for a minute. Engage your senses. Take in the moment. Find joy in it. Experience it for a minute. Imagine you were given the gift of being able to return from the future to this very moment and relive it. How would you live it? What is there in this moment that is valuable and worthy to be enjoyed?

There are cool things coming tomorrow. It is ok to hope and dream and plan and reach for them. Yesterday had both good and bad within it. Memories can be nice. But do not forget the immense value in today. In the now.

That is what the Lord was telling me on “the drive” version 2. The anger is gone. We all want a lot. But today has a lot –enough – for me. For you.


[1]FOMO = Fear Of Missing Out

Categories
Being human Reflections on the Christian Life Updates on my health

Returning to Normal?

Transitions are always hard. We talk about finding the “new normal.” I just wish there was a script or a manual to tell us how to do this. Even harder is that I don’t know for sure what I want the new normal to be.

I just finished my first official week back at full time. I stayed at work later than I should have. By Friday noon I could feel the old feelings of fatigue. I was able to keep going but by evening had the heavy breathing fatigued feeling again. A good night’s sleep and I am better again.  I am trying to figure out things now that I am back.

What were the good things in the week? It was good to see a bunch of patients again. I felt like I really had something to contribute. This made me feel good. I participated in some meetings. I was happy to see that I still could feel the drive to speak and want to make things better. People would ask me how I was doing. The answer I came up with varied between 80-90% back depending on when they asked. This morning I am 90%. 

The week started with an upper endoscopy. I have been having some swallowing troubles. This seems to be a residual effect of the mitotane which can take 2 months or longer to be out of my body. The Versed and Fentanyl for the endoscopy were kind of amazing. I don’t remember the endoscopy and only vaguely remember going home. I was surprised that I had to push myself to think the next day. I was also surprised when I felt some remnants of that going into the second day. I felt just a little off balance in terms of thinking. I could think but just didn’t have my usual flow. I stumbled on my words with the patients and the resident who was rotating with me. At times I felt like I was following old algorithms rather than truly thinking in the moment. The next two days after this were more normal and more satisfying for me. The resident was still with me on Thursday and I found myself falling into and enjoying the teaching role again. I wasn’t stumbling on my words like I was on Wednesday.

Today I listened to the song, “Audition (The Fools Who Dream)” from the 2016 movie “La La Land”. Here are some of the words from the song:

My aunt used to live in Paris.
I remember, she used to come and tell us these stories about being abroad.
And I remember she told us that she jumped into the river once, barefoot.

She smiled.

Leapt, without looking, 
And tumbled into the Seine.
The water was freezing, 
She spent a month sneezing, 
But said she would do it again.

Here’s to the ones who dream, 
Foolish as they may seem. 
Here’s to the hearts that ache. 
Here’s to the mess we make. 

I worry that I am not dreaming anymore. 

The future always seemed to sprawl out in front of me. There were always so many things that I could and might do in the future. I dreamed of the dozens of different things that someday I might do. 

Doctors get frequent emails with what look to be amazing job offers. I have never really taken them seriously but often I would forward them on to Sarah. In my mind I would dream of a sudden change and a new challenge. I would want to run through the grass that was greener. Of course, it never really is greener. But I would indulge in imagining the fabulous job the email would try to create. I never seriously considered them. But it was a release to look at the emails. It was all harmless. It was a bit of escapism, but it was also dreaming. Now when I see the emails, I think of my uncertainty and my need to not lose any of the benefits that I have. I haven’t been forwarding the emails on to Sarah anymore. 

When I first saw “La La Land” that song grabbed me and moved me. Today it bothered me. 

It worried me a little bit. Am I not dreaming anymore? Am I settling for less? 

I have always wanted to think of myself as a dreamer. I think many of us want to think that we are. We want to be the aunt from La La Land. For the sake of adventure, she jumped into the Seine. She really lived her life. And in spite of whatever pains or losses she endured, she would do it all again.

A bit of madness is key, 
To give us new colors to see. 
Who knows where it will lead us? 
And that’s why they need us.

There is something very appealing about being a dreamer. I want to be the person who sees the world not for what it is but for what it can be. I want to be the person who brings “new colors to see” to others. I don’t want to just be here. I don’t want to just mark time. I want my time to mean something.

And so, I am back at work. I am trying to figure out what my life is supposed to be like. I am puzzling over what is supposed to be different. It isn’t that my life was bad before. But priorities seem to have shifted a bit. Some things that used to drive me do not as much. And I am wanting to figure out what really is important for me to do at this phase of my life.

Think about it. If you knew you might only have a few years to work, what work would you do? What would you do differently?

I intensely don’t want to just go back to where I was. It has got to be different. I have got to be different. I feel duty bound to ask the questions. I am not criticizing my former self. It wasn’t like I was without purpose before. But I want even more. 

And, I still really want to be a dreamer. Can I do it? Can I continue to look ahead even if I am not certain what ahead can mean? Can I continue to invest energy now that the rug was pulled out from under me once? Can I figure out the new normal?

On the other side of this confusion is this: It is odd but sometimes I worry that I am not wanting to be well. I know that is not true, but it worries me at times nonetheless. I think it is because I worry that I will drift to the mediocre – the bland – the gray. I worry I will return to normal and will not have any intensity anymore. I want to be a dreamer. I want color. I want emotion. I want more than just living and being in my place.

So bring on the rebels, 
The ripples from pebbles, 
The painters, and poets, and plays.

And here's to the fools who dream, 
Crazy as they may seem.
Here's to the hearts that break. 
Here's to the mess we make.

What matters to me? That is, I think, what I am reaching even more deeply within myself to figure out. My worry is that I won’t figure it out and then I will give into the pressures around me and take on the mold and pattern that others might make for me. I don’t want to have wasted the trauma of being diagnosed and assaulted with treatments. I want my life to be more.

Paul said, “To live is Christ and to die is gain.”[1]I get that now. I get that more than I ever have before. I am not afraid to die. That is the easy part. I know that if and when that time comes it won’t be as easy as it sounds now. I desperately don’t want to put my family through grief. But at the moment the challenge that is before me is “To live is Christ.” Paul was committed to the gospel. His calling and purpose were clear. But what is the Lord calling me to now? 

During radiation I was so tired. All I could do was to sit and think. During that time, I dreamed of being able to fully serve the Lord. I even wrote out a plan for part time medical practice and part time seminary followed by part time ministry. This was assuming that the cancer stayed away. It inspired me and gave me strength during that time.

But now that I am returning to work, the reality of figuring out the next phase is in front of me. I am still not fully back (not on call yet) and it gives me some liberty to figure out what is important to me. Honestly it is more than just what is important to me. It is more about what is the best use of my time. If we assume the worst and that my cancer will come back some day, what is the best use of my time between now and then? I think that is what I am reaching for.

My list in my mind so far:

  • People: Çaring about people is good. I have got to remember to slow down. Stop thinking about myself. Look people in the eyes. Really listen to them. Enjoy them. This was really intensely valuable right after my diagnosis and rightly should remain so going forward.
  • Patients: Helping patients is really good. Having skills that I can use for others is really satisfying.  I am a clinician. That is a big part of who I am.
  • Gaps: Reaching into the gaps where there are needs and meeting those needs is really good. I no longer want to do what others can do or are doing. I want to go where others can’t go or don’t want to go. I have little drive to do what 3 other people are vying to do. I feel intense drive to do what no one else can or wants to do. 
  • Color:  I want color. Bright colors. Vibrant and rich. Alive and awake and different. In whatever I do I want there to be color. Emotions. Alive. This too I felt after my diagnosis and I am not very willing to give it up. This blog has helped me to express myself. Like an artist it makes me feel alive. I think that is why I have continued to blog and write so many posts that have nothing to do with my health.
  • Live life not just work: I don’t want to be so stressed that I don’t appreciate life. I don’t want to feel like I have been cheated or have missed out on living because I was so obsessed with work. This is huge. Work is valuable. But there is more to life than just work.
  • Impact: I want to impact and move others. I think that is half of why I blog. I know the first half is what I said above and what is driving me to write this today – It is inside me and it helps me to write it down. The creativity makes me feel alive. But perhaps the second half is to get people thinking more deeply. To help them feel. To make them really live.
  • God:When I was on disability, I started my day with a cup of coffee, my Bible and a quiet time to be with my God. This past week, I felt the pressure of schedules. Time seemed to evaporate. Perhaps there was just a moment too long in the shower or one click of the snooze button that I shouldn’t have taken. My relationship with the Lord is who I am, and I must not let anything get in the way of that.
  • Ministry:My ministry at the moment is in my family, my church, my friends, and in medicine. These are all so wonderful and really are fulfilling. I am not feeling that I have to go beyond those bounds. But I do want to be sure that I am making the most of the time and opportunities that I have. I want to live with the confidence that looking back, I will be convinced that I would do it all again.
I trace it all back to then.
Her, and the snow, and the Seine
Smiling through it, 
She said she'd do it again.

Picture reference: https://www.citymetric.com/fabric/paris-has-watery-dream-swimming-seine-can-planners-take-plunge-2690

[1]NIV Philippians 1:21