When Bad Things Happen To Good People

I logged into my account this afternoon and found a disturbing post from my loyal reader, Lee. He, too, has been going through a weight loss surgery journey and blogging about it. I don't really know him personally, only through his blog posts and messages here, so I can't speak for him (just what he has already shared in messages and posts, if I may be allowed to do so).

On his blog he posted that his wife has breast cancer and because of various complications may not survive this time around. They have time to live together and celebrate their lives for awhile, but I imagine it is still hard news to bear.

I have wondered about my death. Like Lee I pretty much accepted that my obesity was a death sentence. I enjoyed my eating habits, and since weight and lifestyle takes months or years to change rather than a day or two it seemed as if losing weight was out of reach.

I basically accepted I was going to die early. In some ways I almost looked forward to it; no more aches and pains, the potential insurance payout could help my wife and kids get out of debt a bit more, no more dealing with the stress of my day job and waking to the dread that I would never find a better source of job satisfaction; all I hoped for was that it would be quick and relatively painless.

But I eventually took the steps to get the surgery and added some hope that I might see my young son grow up and maybe even grow a little older. I temper this with the realization that I could be killed in a car accident or some other freak incident as happens to hundreds or thousands of people every day.

Lee found the surgery and then changed his view to accept that maybe he, too, would buy more years with his wife and children and grandkids. And so you can imagine the irony of me finding his news posted today on the eve of my own birthday that I didn't know I would see.

I don't know what to say to him, really. Because of my Asperger self I am afraid to say much because I'll probably say the wrong things so normally I don't say anything. Better to be seen as an unfeeling jerk than a cruel moron incapable of relating the way other people normally do. After a lot of thinking I posted a comment to him for moderation; I hope that since he's followed so many of my own posts he'll understand what I mean, even if I'm not the best at conveying my thoughts on emotional topics.

It led me to thinking about the question of what would happen if you knew you were going to die in a certain span of time? I really liked the movie Krull; it had a character that was a Cyclops, and in the realm of that movie the Cyclopian race was cursed with seeing the when and where they would die, so they knew how long they had to live.

I know at the rational level that I could die at any time. A family friend just had an aneurysm but looks like he'll survive. I had an uncle that survived as half the man he used to be for several years after a stroke. I had a roommate that killed himself in college. The loss of weight doesn't mean I'm home free of strokes and heart attacks, and of course there is a possibility of fire or car accident killing me as well. Unpleasant, but those are the facts. I actually had a fixation on the thought that after my six month or twelve month followup to the surgery I'd be given a "green flag" that all was going well with no complications only to be in a pileup on the way home.

So would one rather know when they were going to die, or that they had a certain time to live? We have our mortality looming over us every day, and unlike the Cyclops we don't have any certainty when our lottery numbers will be drawn. Every day is an opportunity to spend living or dying. Most of us get so caught up in our constant routines of life that we get into a rut and don't give it a second thought. Some people get hit with the news that they will soon pass away and they suddenly find a new meaning to their lives, like the inspirational story of cancer victim Randy Pausch who ended up unintentionally becoming an motivational hit with his Last Lecture (which I highly recommend watching on YouTube and reading the resulting book).


I suppose the question is, what would you do? Would you want to know when you're going to die, or remain ignorant of it? Would you rather believe that you make your own fate every day, or know when it's time to buckle down and make the most of your days as the time draws near? So many people face this question every day in oncology departments in hospitals that it's become an invisible question for those who aren't directly affected by these issues.

My best wishes go to Lee with this challenge in his life. I hope anyone else that stumbles on my little corner of the blogosphere could also take a few moments to share their wishes with Lee as well, since he and his wife will no doubt look forward to some good wishes from others as well.