Wiley's Wisdom

Joy: From the Ground Up

Like A Rocking Chair December 30, 2014

No news is good news. That’s what I heard them say to my forever mom yesterday when we stopped at my doggie doctor’s office. The wait was over to have a second test done to confirm (or deny) whether I was sick. Yet that’s when the real waiting game began.

It was 11:03 a.m. when we left the Family Pet Clinic. I know because I saw mom note the time. Before we left, they told her we would have an answer in 24 to 36 hours if the news wasn’t good. I thought for sure when they said that it would be the longest 24 to 36 hours of my life. In reality, I think it was at least in the higher ranks for my dear forever mom, who did nothing but worry the entire time. Counting Blessings

Not only that, but she disregarded what the ladies told her about no news. As soon as the clock struck 11:03 a.m. this morning, you’d better believe she called the office to find out if there was any news. And there was.

I am not sick. Everything is fine. Yes, I have a slightly elevated white blood cell count (whatever that is), but I’m going to be okay. Now don’t we all feel a bit silly for worrying so much?

It reminds me a bit of something I heard my mom’s dear friend Mel say about a completely unrelated topic yesterday afternoon. She quoted the words of New Zealand athlete Glenn Turner, who once suggested that “worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but gets you nowhere.”

So maybe mom and I and whoever else she worried with her concern (as I’ve found it to be contagious) didn’t get anywhere the last few days. But that’s okay.

Because this afternoon as the warmth of the sun bore down on me in my favorite spot in Carter’s room as I watched mom and Carter rock quietly, I let it in. All of it. The warmth. The love. The life of it all. I can’t help but feel a bit like I’ve gotten yet another lease on life, and it’s not one I intend to waste one ounce of worry over.

 

Hurry Up and Wait December 27, 2014

No news is good news, or so they say. Mom even said so this morning when she mentioned to dad she hadn’t heard anything from the doggie doctor about the blood test they did earlier this week. Usually if you don’t hear anything, everything is fine.

Until you do hear something. And it’s not good news. It happened to us a mere three hours after mom breathed a proverbial sigh of relief over not hearing anything. The phone call. Something about white blood cells being slightly higher than they should be and how they would like to do another test to find out if its really something to worry about.I will live

No need for the test as far as worry is concerned. I’m worried. Mom’s worried. It’s a whole bunch of anxiety and nerves around here, and there is a whole lot of nothing we can do about it until they run more tests on Monday. It could be bad. Very, very bad. Or it could be nothing. But right now none of that matters because I will admit it. I’m scared.

Mom must know it too, since she showed me (even) more love than usual all day. Dad and dear baby Carter even got involved, which was nice while oddly at the same time not all that comforting.

It brings to mind the whole idea of preparing for the worst while hoping for the best. I’m an optimist. I shouldn’t be afraid or think about the worst case scenario because I have joy in my heart. I’ve come to understand this joy is like an antidote to most forms of negativity, and yet I’m finding it hard to contest this sense of fear I have. While there are exceptions, I think the fear of the unknown is a living thing that can consume us if we let it.

If we let it.

The ancient Roman poet Persius once suggested “we consume our tomorrows fretting about our yesterdays.” I’d rather be present in today.

I know in my heart I have the power not to let this get to me. I can let it in and feel it, but it doesn’t have to take over my life for the next few days, weeks or years. I won’t let it. I will stand and fight whatever it is with my beloved forever family by my side. I will live.