I’d rather die living than live dying
It’s only two days since my hospital stay (see previous blog) and I’m heading off for a solo sail to the San Juans.
Stupid? Probably. In trouble with my wife? Definitely.
While driving me to the harbor, she’s getting more and more upset. I know it is actually fear because of the medical issue I had earlier this week. She’s afraid something will happen to me and thinks it’s crazy I’m going out so soon after my hospital stay.
The doctor gave me a clean report and it is unlikely that a bowel obstruction will happen again any time soon, but Willie has had to deal with so many of my health issues that the idea of me doing a solo sail scares her.
On the way to the docks, she finally lets out with several Icelandic expletives. Well, the words were in English, but the furry behind them was definitely Viking in origin.
Most of my life I have let the fears of others control my actions. This time I decided I wouldn’t let that happen. Though she got really upset, I went on the sail trip anyway. It is perhaps the first time I haven’t given in to someone’s demands. I’m very sorry I have upset her, but I needed this trip. She is busy this weekend with a church seminar so it is the perfect time to do this.
She said I was being selfish and she was right. It was insensitive of me to sail off by myself so soon after my bowel obstruction. I do regret worrying her.
But during the trip I came to a decision: I’d rather die living than live dying.
I’m not gong to let my leukemia or any other health issues stop me from living as full a life as possible.
This solo trip was the first step in reclaiming the real me. I am confirming my identity by the life I live, not by my health.
I will, however, from now on, try to accomplish that without hurting the one who loves and cares for me. Sorry honey.