Irony Avoided

A friend just called and asked about getting together this weekend - the last weekend before my surgery. "You know, just get together... maybe have some dinner... celebrate life, before you..." My friend's voice trailed off.

Before I what?

My mind operates on several channels simultaneously. The main channel is just living life. But, like the director's cut on a DVD, there's this other channel that imagines narrating over what's happening - as if we're watching this as some sort of historical record. On this channel, I'm always thinking irony, like "Hah, what if something bad happens? How ironic will this conversation seem then?"

It's just an orthopedic procedure... should take about an hour. I'll go home the next day. But I don't care who you are - don't you think about something going wrong? How ironic if something you said or did today were cast in a totally different light because of some unforeseen tragedy. Yep, I think about that stuff. On a frigid night in February 1959, nobody knew they were watching Buddy Holly's last concert. On a November morning in 1963, people in Dallas had no idea they were witnessing the final moments of a president's life. January 28, 1986 was supposed to be just another Space Shuttle launch. It's only afterward, in light of history, we see photos or video of "just before" and we almost recoil at the irony. At least I do.

There are two things I try to take from these experiences. First, I learned a long time ago to keep a short tab with people because, among other reasons, unforeseen tragedies do happen and I never want unfinished business to haunt me (or someone else) forever. Second, I've learned to shake 'em off - those thoughts of irony or impending doom or whatever - because thinking about them has never, ever prevented anything from happening. Irony is only irony when we know the outcome - and none of us can make that claim.

I spent a long time in realization #1: Bad things do happen. Realization #2 is more recent: Wondering, worrying, going out of your way to avoid the ironic moments like dinner with my friend that could have some kind of last-hurrah element... those are just time-wasters. Don't get me wrong - I'm well aware of the risks of any surgery and I can play the what-if card as well as anybody. But every moment you spend worrying - every moment you spend trying to avoid situations, conversations, thoughts that could lead to worry - those moments are lost forever. I'd rather think about good stuff - things I'm looking forward to, things I want to do.

My most recent model for this kind of behavior is Tobias Alexander, a ten year old Cairn Terrier called Toby (third from left). Toby's scheduled for his third chemotherapy treatment Monday, two days before my hip surgery. Know how much time Toby is spending thinking about his appointment Monday morning? Or about his overall prognosis? None. He's living life, every moment, with the same zest he always has. He's not afraid to chase the tennis ball because it might someday be his last chance to do so. He has no hesitation whatsoever to put his head on my knee, to run after a squirrel, to bark at a cat - just because he doesn't want to dodge some unseen irony.

I might have dinner with my friend, I might not. But I'm not going to go out of my way to behave one way or another as I count down the days 'til my surgery as if saying something, doing something, might tempt fate or invoke irony. Toby would have no part of it - and neither should I.