Tommorow

Early last week, I spoke to a dear friend of mine, a girl whom we shall call Joanne. Joanne is a sweet, sensible, savvy and dynamic woman. She is in her prime, at the peak of her career. Joanne told me that a growth was recently discovered in her ovaries, and the doctors seemed pretty grave as they gave the prognosis. All three specialists whom she saw recommended immediate surgery. What kind of growth was it? Was it malignant? What caused it? They could not say. Finally Joanne found a physician who agreed to do a biopsy before they began any surgery, to try to find out the nature of the growth. The results would take some time to be released. Until then, it was simply a waiting game.

There was not really much I could say to comfort her. I tried to sound upbeat, and, being a die-hard optimist, I kept telling myself that surely it was nothing. I thought about the stress she must have been experiencing as she waited; the unimaginable dread that accompanies such suspense. She must have tried to keep busy, to think positive thoughts, to do research and to read books, looking for answers to questions that do not have any. I thought of some of my beloved friends who had succumbed in their fight with cancer, and I thought of the dear ones who survived and went on to lead normal, healthy lives. I thought about questions such as why bad things happen to good people. I took comfort in our hope for the future, knowing that these things are only temporary.

But mostly, I thought of her. Joanne is a great person and a born leader. A first born, prefect, head girl and full-time volunteer in the Disability sector, she is known and loved by just about everybody whose path she crosses. Feisty and determined with a short, more-to-love frame and a cheesy dimpled grin that turns her twinkly eyes into tiny black slits on her face. She is so young, so vibrant! I prayed for her as she underwent this ordeal, and I could not help but think about how transient life can be. Let's face it - I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, or, unexpectedly get diagnosed with a terminal condition. Couples will discuss at least once during their marriage the loaded question - if I died would you remarry? There are even jokes on that theme, which I find rather hilarious, however morbid the subject.

I thought about what my family would do if tomorrow never came for me. I thought about what people would say at my eulogy, or even just in conversation. It made me ponder about the type of name I would like to leave, the legacy for my daughter, and the memories for my dear ones. What would really be important at that time? Would anyone really care what my bank balance was on that day, or would they rather think about the lives I had touched? My friend Joanne is known for her kindness and hospitality. She always says Thank-You, through a card, a text message, or even a phone-call, no matter how small the favor was. However stressed out or exhausted she may get, I have never seen her lose her cool. Could they say that about me?

Finally I thought about how I used to describe myself as “adventurous and impulsive: someone who likes to eat life with a big spoon!” It's high time I dug out that rusty spoon and took some of those adventures I had always wanted...after all, why wait? Joanne's scare reminded me that life is to be relished today, and happiness is not something to be postponed.

... Oh, and by the way, she called me a couple of days ago – the biopsy is all clear.