Uncertainty

I don’t like uncertainty. I suppose no one really likes it. I want to know that if I do X, the result will be Y. If I have disease and accept treatment as prescribed by my doctor, the disease will go away. But medicine isn’t like that. If I accept the treatment the disease might go away, or it might go away for awhile, or maybe not.

This is why disease is so distressing. There are so many variables that we don’t know about and can’t control. We follow the best advice we can get and we still have to rely on meta-factors to convince ourselves that everything will be Ok in the end. My daughter will be Ok: she is tough; she is fit; she is younger and stronger than most of the women that have this cancer, and she can fight it off.

I, too, am Ok. I am fit. I made the right decision on treatment. The cancer was found early. I have beaten this, and I’ll know for certain when I die of something else.

I don’t like uncertainty.

How does this uncertainty affect the way I live. I would like to go on living the life I had before and never think of either of these cancers again. But, even if that was possible, it could be a fatal mistake. I could dwell on the cancer to the exclusion of everything else. That, too, would be a fatal mistake. I guess somewhere in the middle is the best place to be. Maybe a little more vigilant and also a little more appreciative of life than before. Maybe a little more aware of how much I love my daughter.

Tomorrow I’m off for a weekend to do a half marathon. Next year, we’ll do one together.