Would having a number to plan around be helpful? Sometimes I resort to a random selection process and accept the result as fact and as a basis for making the decision immediately in front of me. “Let’s say the number is 10 and go from there.” A mind trick but works sometimes in the moment for getting un-stuck. Working with a family “committee” likely changes the dynamics, though. I feel for you all and hope for some kind of breakthrough in this situation. Seems like the most serene of the SPs are those who somehow manage to ignore/deny the existence of the uncertainty or accept and transcend it or use to their advantage. How they get there, I don’t know. I wish I did.

We are stuck on “neither”, Janet.

I am in no way suggesting that the substance and significance of these two situations is the same, but I had similar thoughts as I contemplated when to retire.
“If only I could know…”
“But it shouldn’t make any difference…”
“But it does…”
That was only one decision. You have many to consider. A recipe for unsettled-ness, in varieties from vague and generalized to intense and specific. Maybe the answer lies in finding the middle and settling for that?

Thanks for visiting, K!

I can honestly say that the days and weeks after my diagnosis were among the happiest of my life. No problems there.

The biggest source of stress for me is the uncertainty. Despite what Hume says, there are gradations of probability between certainty and knowing nothing. If I am mostly sure that I have a lot of time left, I must plan for my family’s future. If there’s not much time left, I’d rather spend it (with my family) on fun stuff.

One might argue that I should be living each day as if it will be my last but, if it’s not my last, I still need to pay the mortgage tomorrow.

The thing is, you haven’t got any less time left than you had the day before the MRI. It’s (dare I write this) inductive reasoning to think you need to make different decisions the day after the MRI results than you would have the day before.

Were you happy before the MRI? Did you think you were making the right choices day-to-day and forward planning wise? Then why should that no longer be the case?

Not to be crass but we (humans) tend to assume we have lots of tomorrow’s and plan for the next day/month/year but none of us know we’ll actually be here next day/month/year – we just act as though we know!

In short I’m asking why start to make different decisions about you life choices/plan as though you now know what you still don’t actually know?

Thanks! I didn’t know about Game of Thrones reference or 4000 weeks.

Damn accounting error…

I didn’t think of “Not today” as making a choice as much as saying “It’s not my turn yet. Come back another day.”

The quote is a line from Game of Thrones where Arya’s Dancing Master (swordmanship instructor) teaches Arya what to say to death when he comes calling: “Not today.” In a later scene (SPOILERS), the dancing master doesn’t say “Not today” because he knows it is his turn.

I do think it’s a good question the way you frame it though, Claire. I recently read “Four Thousand Weeks” which refers to the ridiculously short span of our lives when you count the weeks and gives advice on how to spend them doing what you want to do rather than working to pay the mortgage until the end.

I asked myself your question when my 4,000 got adjusted downwards due to an accounting error. I spent a couple of my weeks just watching the ducks on the harbour. I was ready.

It’s harder to choose when you don’t how many weeks you have left.

I recently finished How to Die by Seneca, translated by James S Romm. The straight-forward considerations about the fact of death were refreshing to me.

So today I was thinking about Not Today, and I don’t think this works for me because I know I do not have that control over death.

I think what works for me is, What if I died today? I tried asking myself that question today, and I had pleasant thoughts about why today would be an okay time to die. I thought positively about my past and about my current life. I was content.

I am 73 years old, had a successful career, lots of travel, and quiet retirement (mostly). So this may make it easier to answer to the question, What if I died today? I guess it’s like that idea of having a beer with death every once in a while, realizing that life has precious moments that are fleeting,

The Serengeti sounds like a jolly good idea.