Just recently our phone answering base station gave up the ghost. The handsets appeared fine, but the base station would no longer take messages. I ordered a new base station with a model number that appeared to be compatible with our existing handsets. We received it in a couple days and I hooked it up. The older handsets wouldn’t recognize it. So off to the internet to see if there was something I could do to force recognition. To make a long story short it turned out there was a process to pair the old handsets to the new base. I just had to dig them out of the trash…
What’s note worthy about this experience was how upset I became.. It was bad enough I noticed it on my own. I’m a big believer that if one’s response to a situation is out of proportion to the event, there’s something else going underneath that’s trying to get out.
After a little thought about what was really bothering me, I realized it was fear that was a result of a meeting with one of my doctors earlier in the day.
This doctor sent a “letter of introduction” to a pain management specialist I’d asked about seeing. The letter described my situation and indicated I’d be calling for an appointment. He read the letter to me, so I’d know what info was communicated.
There was one part that really caught my attention. He wrote I had 2 years to live. Now, I currently tell folks that I have 2-4 years left. However, I realized from my reaction that I think of it as 4 years, not 2 years.. Having 2 years put out there as the possible end of my life with no mention of the 4 years scared the hell out of me. For some reason 4 years was far enough away that I was OK with it, but 2 years was way too close.
This all took place about 5 days ago and I’m back on my normal track. I suspect this experience helped me get a little more comfortable dying on the early side. I don’t really know what else to say, except that this dying business is trickier than I thought it would be.