Abbey-Roads2

Adoro has a sort of meme, “5 things about me”, and I added, “that no one knows”…or something like that.  Since I may be dying (drama!), what the hell, I’ll do it…

5 things:

1)  I left home at 16 and finished high school on my own, and attended college without any support from my family.   (No one else in my family ever graduated from High School.)  During this period, I never saw my parents again, save for brief visits at Christmas, until the Abbot of the monastery I entered insisted that I reconcile with them before entering.  (I’ve always regretted that - not the reconciliation, but that I gave in and stayed over night in my parent’s house before entering.)  I have a lot of pride.

2)  When I left the monastery I went back to management only because a co-worker I had worked with had been promoted to upper management in my absence and I was indignant that someone so inferior could have been promoted.  (He was later fired.)  I wasn’t charitable.

3)  For several years, I earned my living as a painter and licensed my works.  (I still get royalties - which are a pain for taxes.)  People know this, what they do not know is my motivation.  It was because my dad told me I would never make it as an artist.   I like to prove people wrong - it’s such a fault.

4)  I don’t live alone…I have 2 cats.

5)  I have little respect for position, status, wealth - anything the world esteems.  It’s another fault.

Some people knew this stuff about me, but very few.  What they also do not know is that I am keenly aware of my faults, and they are a source of great suffering for me.

What a fun meme - thanks Adoro!

Today is the first day in over 3 months that I felt well.

Now I get to go back to the doctor to be tested to see if I have cancer - because my infection finally seems to be cleared up.  I can tell my critics - “See, the doctor was correct, it sometimes takes a few months to get over it.”

You cannot believe how everyone thinks they have a medical degree in their impatience for you to get over what you have.  Talk about Jewish mothers!  And everyone seems to know more than your doctor…if they believed you were sick at all.  (I wonder if one of Job’s friends wasn’t his mother in disguise?  Although, was Job Jewish?  Incidentally, when you’re really sick, people certainly show their true colors - you get to know who your friends are.)

Nevertheless, for one who can’t wait to die,  I don’t handle being sick very well. I am even more impatient than the “Job’s friends” I’ve had around me.  I realized that dying involves being pretty darn sick sometimes…which isn’t very pleasant.  You have to go to the doctor, take meds, go for test after test.  You endure the arrogant analysis of family, ‘friends’ and co-workers, and occasional mockery and doubt.  It’s hard to pray, let alone read, and forget entertainment.  The interior struggles and temptations are incredible, simply incredible. 

I keep thinking, you get sick, take pain meds, and die.  I forgot all that precedes the final curtain call, with the “Witches of Endor” stirring the pot.  (Why are some people such witches?)

When my mother was ill, my dad yelled at her for being lazy and seeking sympathy.  When she was dying in hospice, the nurses thought she may be more comfortable at home, and she begged them not to send her there for fear of my dad’s abuse.  I forgot about how unpleasant it was for her to be sick and dying.  I forgot that much of my family’s concern was a result of our not knowing how to deal with her illness, let alone comprehending she was dying.

When a former employee was ill, I was certain she was exaggerating her illness and that she should  ‘buck up’ and come to work.  Until she died in hospital a couple of weeks later.

I knew many people misunderstood in their last illnesses.  I can’t say they all died in peace.  I knew a Jehovah Witness who experienced the rejection of her Church because she had smoked cigarettes.  In hospice, her Lutheran cousin kept telling her she would go to hell if she didn’t accept Jesus.  Her last night on earth, she had asked for me, but I was at adoration praying for her.  It had not been a peaceful death.

At any rate, I think I’m learning my lesson, and since I’m feeling better, I find it amusing that the Little Jesus has taught me this lesson - sort of a “what goes around, comes around” lesson.  I get the joke, and it’s so on me!

When you’re sick - go to confession - He heals more than the wounds of our souls, while preparing us to follow after Him.

Just think how He was laughed to scorn, jeered, kicked while He was down, whipped and scourged - and then came the crucifixion.  He didn’t deserve it.  And I have the audacity to complain.  One of the best things suffering accomplishes however, aside from humility, is great detachment - provided one accepts suffering.  One begins to understand the prayer of John of the Cross, “To suffer and be despised.”  There is a joy in that, even when you deserve it. 

Accept it or not, everyone will face it.  Even if one expects to die peacefully in their sleep, although, I doubt it’s like that - there is an inevitable suffering in dying - unless one is a saint.  Despite that, I want to experience it in all of it’s rigor - provided I attain heaven.

If it turns out I do have cancer - which I really doubt (I’m so dramatic!) - I would never accept treatment to reverse it.  I would never, ever want my obit to read, “Died after courageously battling cancer.”  What the hell are you battling?  For what?  (I always wonder that when I read those obits.)

Adviso:  If anyone reading this wants to battle it, go ahead - and congratulations.  It’s my preference not to.