Bucket List

We all are familiar with the question: "what would you do if you had 6 months to live?" We'd promptly fly ourselves to some deserted island, eat bountiful exotic foods til our hearts content, trek our favorite mountain range, frolic through fields of lavender, or finally find the nerve to skydive. For some, these might be real possibilities after being told "you have six months to live". For so many others, it remains a dream, a nice idea but nonetheless unrealistic.

The Bucket List concept and the question of "what would you do if you had so many months to live" is one that assumes that once one is diagnosed with a terminal illness, he/she somehow still has the energy and capacity to do the things he/she loves to do on a day-to-day basis, let alone fulfilling those lifelong dreams. It assumes one is still fit (despite having a terminal illness) to do 'those' things in 'those' 6 months. If one were to really consider the stage at which a person is in when diagnosed, one would quickly discover how difficult a question that is. Some folks have the luxury (if you can call it that in the face of cancer and terminal illness) to have the energy and mobility to travel to unseen locations, to partake in outdoor activities and the like, fulfill childhood dreams, carry on as normal at least for a spell. This is fantastic, of course, and I wouldn't suggest any other way. But, for Mom and Craig, they were incapacitated right out of the gate. The untold story for Mom and Craig and for so many others is one filled with doctors visits, regimented IV chemo appointments, physical and occupational therapy, confusion, falls, loss of leg function, incessant vomiting, fatigue, horrible pain, you name it. This is not to say that their lives haven't been fulfilling or were/are horrible, but movies like the Bucket List make it seem like one should shoot for the moon and the smaller, day-to-day goals aren't as fulfilling or enjoyable.

The truth is, debilitating symptoms have been with Craig since he was diagnosed in late February. He went into the hospital with vomiting so extreme he was delusional. This was his reality. The notion of fulfilling childhood dreams or hiking the Himalayas was all of a sudden sized down to simply getting through the day. When Mom was diagnosed, she promptly had surgery, which slowed her down considerably. The point is that so quickly the ideal of knowing what the heck one would want to do if he/she were dying -- and actually being able to do that "thing" -- is something of a fantasy. If you were to analyze a list drawn by Craig and Mom pre-cancer and then during cancer, you'd likely find two different lists. For them, it seems that spending time with family trumps big-life dreams.

With incredible courage and grit, Mom made it back to family in her last 6 months of life, traveling to Michigan just before falling ill with sepsis. Prior to her diagnosis, she traveled abroad for the first time in her life to Thailand and China. She had dreams of visiting Chris in Southern France or visiting where they filmed Lord of the Rings, but her disease moved much too quickly. The "what would you do if you had six months to live" question was re-phrased by "what will you do...today". She filled her life fully with spending time with family and doing the things she loved with the energy she had.

Craig, too. Given his symptoms, he's sought family outings and achieves goals of going on walks, or visiting the garden -- things so many take for granted. For Craig, it seems walks, etc are his island; applesauce is his exotic food that makes the belly turn with adrenaline and excitement. It's his moment to be out with the world again. Maybe it's not what he would have thought as a Bucket List pre-cancer, but today, it's just the same -- still meaningful, still worthwhile.

We spoke with the palliative care people about achieving goals for Craig before he dies. One potential dream expressed by Craig is to travel abroad again; the team said that might not be realistic given his symptoms. Traveling to Boulder might be realistic and plans are in the works to make this so. We are also bringing the oversees to him, through whatever medium possible.

We're trying to bring "life" to Craig, since he can't "go" to life as easily. We'll do whatever we can to keep his life colorful and exciting but it's limiting and he says the days feel monochromatic. This is the more debilitating side of cancer. Not to belittle his successes and everyday achievements because they are truly triumphs and moments to celebrate, but I wish he was able to do what other folks with cancer might be doing, at least for a week or some small amount of time. And, I'm not giving up hope that the symptoms will one day subside enough for him to once again enjoy the things he loves doing. To hell with big ticket dreams; I just wish that his symptoms would improve at least for a day so that he could eat, or play harmonica again.

The six month question and Bucket List is in recognition that most deny themselves a lifetime of "pleasure" for the sake of it, and in fact have a laundry list of "to do's" with the hope of actually achieving them in a certain/finite amount of time. Sure, no one can fulfill all of life's dreams and there will certainly be items left to be discovered/experienced or to be revisited, but why does it take couching how one would ideally live his/her life in terms of "if you had only so much time to live".  Why does it take a hypothetical death sentence to realize you were worth it all along?  At what point is it okay to fulfill lifetime dreams?  Why must these dreams always come at the back end of a bad prognosis? In other words, does stockpiling dreams for the future make sense?  Is purging dreams in the face of cancer fair?  Do people have a choice?  In the face of something catastrophic, can dreams be amended to something as fulfilling?  I say yes.  C and Mom have made the most of their lives pre-cancer, as well as post-cancer.  For Mom, the last weeks may not have been hollywood, but they were no less important and meaningful to her. To our knowledge, she lived without regret.  Family, after all, was the most important get-a-way.  For C, his ending has yet to be written, but he, with the help of friends and family, will ensure his life is as rich and fulfilling as he intended it to be -- regardless of the ending. I'm sure of it.

Given how absurd the question is, I suppose the real question is "what would you do if you had a lifetime to live -- no matter how short?" (And, the real, real, real question is "at what point do you stop asking rhetorical questions and finally go to bed...as in it's midnight?")

~E