The last six months has been laced with the buzz of a low grade stress. In the pursuit of health, my husband wanted to test his body, to check on its defences and to get a picture of its internal functionality, after 39 years of an interesting life. Most of the results came back with nothing to worry about, except one.
If you have ever undergone something like this, or even something like this which ended with an undesirable test result and potentially ongoing treatment, you will likely understand well, what it is that I’m trying to convey.
The short of the story is that after six months of testing and doctor’s appointments which culminated in a visit to a specialist and further tests, he was cleared from having any major and life threatening diseases. He was lucky, this time.
The journey to get there however, has been this.
When you are faced with the potentiality of death, your outlook on life changes dramatically. The possibility that you might be gone within the next five, even ten years, alters how you see everything as each new day dawns. And in this situation, it wasn’t my life that was in the lurch – but it seems not to matter, when it’s your life partner, your best friend and the father of your children. The effect is the same. I felt the ominous presence of death as if Death itself was following me around.
The knowing that your children may not have their Best Man supporting them on their most important days, is a crushing thought. To consider that every milestone they achieve may be in the absence of their father, depresses the heart in an inconceivable way; such that one experiences a novel anxiety that is difficult to suppress. There is a sad sense of panic when conversation about the future arises, and the eye contact you make with one another is penetrative; with both of you knowing that maybe, only one of you will be there. The frame with which you now approach each moment is different; the instances in which your kids demand your attention are altered – you will fully stop what you’re doing in order to properly adore them, and wonder how much longer you will be lucky enough to cherish them. You realise what it is that gives your life true meaning, and whilst you don’t want to see an unfolding of time with him gone, there’s a part of you that seeks to be prepared for what may just eventuate.
If you are fortunate, as we were, the relief that comes with a negative result is welcome, and palpable. But the experience arrives with a warning. A reminder of how, for so many others, a contrasting reality is faced. It’s a reminder of how fortuitous you are, to have received with such gratitude, a favourable result. But as with all things, time passes. Presently, there is a real sense of appreciation for life and a realisation that this feeling cannot be allowed to wane. This notion has weighed carefully on my mind and heart, as still within my circles, suffering is present, and dis-ease prevalent and it is unequal; it doesn’t seem fair that a person’s youth is tainted with illness, or that someone who prioritises their health is struck down, their life reformed adversely and for ever.
When a life hangs in the balance, you see others mistreating their bodies more obviously. You look upon those people with disdain; angry at how they could be allowed a long life, lived with such a lack of virtue. And then you wonder at your good fortune, questioning how you could honour those without it. How you could acknowledge those that are being tormented by ill health. And I’ve surmised that it can only be done by holding your own life sacred. By looking after your own body, the vessel you rely upon to hold you steady and keep you going. Hold your life sacred by prioritising a life of good health, by making choices that benefit your body and your mind. Hold it sacred by choosing not to abuse your body – because how dare you mishandle the blessing of a healthy life when there are those around you suffering, those who would give anything to be well?
Life is not always fair to us. Knowing this does not have to be to our detriment, however. If we live each day with the worldview that at any point, things can change, we’re going to live happier lives. Already our time on earth is short. For me, this means maximising this journey I’ve been granted and making choices that support my wellbeing and the good health I’ve been bestowed.
Gabrielle Gassin 
“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”