When I was a wee child I would recite a prayer before bed each night:
Now I lay me down to sleep and I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.
And then my parents would turn off the light and shut the door to my bedroom, leaving me alone with that happy thought. A stupid little prayer that scared the shit out of me and was undoubtedly at least partially at the root of a life long case of acute anxiety. I mean, WTF? No wonder I suffered from nightmares.
I thought of this prayer today as I have begun to preface so very many of my thoughts with ‘and if I live.’ Irony free.
Only someone who has been in my position where death is not just a possibility but rather a probability can understand.
It is rather like being in an out of control vehicle, hurtling headlong to a bluff overlooking the ocean. There is a remote chance that you will be able to steer the car to safety at the last moment. However, as you don’t want to waste a moment of what might be your last time on earth, you are also doing your utmost to enjoy the scenery.
It is that flipping surreal.
I have a CT scan on Tuesday which will give a clinical assessment of where we are at. From the objective of the person who is in this body, I can only tell you that it’s getting harder and harder to breathe in here. Hardly encouraging.
And yet the view out the window? Still extraordinary.