I'm back from cottage country and feeling a little out of sorts. It was great to be away from the city for awhile. It felt like a real vacation, which may sound a bit strange seeing that I'm sort of retired, but it really was wonderful. Our hosts were more than kind and made us feel at home. You know how spending lots of time in close quarters with friends can sometimes backfire? In this case, it brought us closer. Also, it was in Georgian Bay where I used to kayak and camp every year for almost two decades. My kayaking days are over (for physical reasons), so it was wonderful to be able to spend some time immersed in the beauty of the area when I wasn't sure I would ever be able to see it again.
But now that I'm back in town, I'm back to feeling kinda down. Some of that is vacation withdrawal, but I was already feeling like this for a couple of weeks before we went out. Some of it is because I'm just not feeling well physically. My ribs and spine are hurting in a number of places, which could be the cancer (some of it is for sure), or something else. But I'm not going to bother getting another scan because I don't plan on doing anything about it anyway.
I think it's pretty clear that my emotional funk is related to my predicament. There are several stages of grief that you go through when you hear you are going to die, so I think that I'm probably going through the depression stage. But I also believe that we think about dying on several different levels. When I'm talking with someone about my death as an intellectual exercise, I don't feel any emotion, at least not consciously. It's as if I were talking about someone else (it's sort of like that when I write this blog). If I talk about it consciously and emotionally, with my wife for example, it's can be very hard and is about the only time that it brings tears to my eyes. At other times, it's all happening in my subconscious mind and, even though I don't know I'm thinking about it, it can be very emotional and makes me feel .... off. Perhaps that is the depression that I've been feeling lately. And, strangely, there are times when I think I'm going to live for a long time (and we all know what that's called!).
There are certainly times when I analyze things too much and perhaps this is one of them. I've been told that I have less that 18 months to live and whether I believe that number or not, it's going to make me feel down sometimes. I wouldn't be human if it didn't. In fact, I read somewhere that humans are the only living creatures who think about their death at all beyond the deep-seated fight or flight response.
Maybe I should come back as a dog!