On Substack I recently read an essay, The Space Between Knowing and Knowing for Sure, by Patti Digh.
As an exhibit, she lists three ofher own medical test results: for a mammogram [Abnormal], an MRI of her brain, and a second mammogram [Abnormal]. Good heavens. The results are dated last week – these are genuine findings – and more tests lie ahead. Digh is facing serious, possibly deadly, outcomes and is presently in limbo between knowing and knowing for sure.
Why has a distant writer’s future state of health touched me enough to write about it?
Perhaps it’s connected to the tests and more tests my husband has recently endured. Last
summer, I too tolerated a series of diagnostic tests, so can easily relate. Living in Canada’s largest city means we have enviable access to first-rate medical care. After discerning abnormalities, our doctors order up tests whose costs we never see. There’s often a wait for the test, followed by a wait for
the online result, then a wait for the doctor’s interpretation of the result. During this process lay people can easily get anxious and sink into depression while picturing the direst of outcomes. Not a smart move.
In Digh’s remarkable essay, she boils down the avoidance of needless worry into a mantra: “Live there when you get there.”
I interpret this mindset as:
- Live in the now.
- Don’t automatically expect the worst.
- Whatever life throws at you you’ll be able to handle.
- There’s nothing to be gained by catastrophizing.
- Take one day at a time.
- Control what you can; leave everything else aside.
- Make it a priority to find joy in everyday life.
Now that I’m 80 years old, I have a long history of quick thinking to manage problems. Disruption on the subway? Order an Uber. Caught in traffic? Text ahead. Out of salad makings? Cook up some veggies. Etcetera. So, the tactic of NOT thinking ahead to manage a possible-but-unconfirmed illness lies in opposition to my customary approach. This change will take practice, but the rewards will be immeasurable.
Have you ever worked yourself into a tizzy when a child is late home from school – only to find that she had to go back to get a textbook she’d forgotten? (That scenario could happen in the pre-cellphone era, if you can remember that far back.) You likely felt annoyed with yourself for imagining she’d been abducted.
Baseless, unmitigated worry buys you nothing but wrinkles and grey hair. And it wastes psychic energy.
Nobody can predict the future. A Post-it on my fridge now reads, “Live there when you get there” because it makes so much sense. If I liked tattoos, I’d have it engraved on my forearm.