[2020-09-29] COVID test and positive thinking
If there are perks to having cancer, one of them is not having to wait in line for a COVID test.
No, I don't think I have COVID. Taking a COVID test is simply a prerequisite to beginning chemotherapy on Thursday.
The process of getting tested was so well organized. My appointment was for 10:00 a.m. at the Irving Greenberg Family Cancer Centre at the Queensway-Carleton Hospital. I was asked to arrive at 9:45.
Having completed the COVID screening questionnaire through MyChart (love that app), I was sent directly to the testing area when I arrived. There were no lineups. In fact, I saw very few people.
A nice gentleman checked me in. No screening questions. Just name and health card. He sent me to exam room 10.
Minutes later, a nurse—coincidentally also named Jennifer—appeared, and immediately apologized for the unpleasantness of the test she was about to administer.
As it turned out, it wasn't all that unpleasant. She did a throat swab, which made me gag only momentarily. She also did a nose swab, which did burn a little, as she said it would. As she twisted the swab in my nose, she counted: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And then it was done.
Jennifer joked that a previous patient had said that she should count down, as he didn't know how high she would go. I didn't either.
The whole process was done by 10:01.
On my way back home, I received an email from a friend that a book she had ordered for me was ready for pickup at my local Chapters: A Year of Positive Thinking: Daily Inspiration, Wisdom, and Courage by Cyndie Spiegel.
In the introduction to the book, Spiegel writes:
I've learned that the world is filled with both abundance and scarcity, cruelty and kindness, despair and hope. I've learned that our lives are very similar to the segments and the peel of an orange; they are both bitter and sweet, and we can't experience one without having the other.
I have also learned that the ability to see light within the darkness creates a world of wide-open, heart-bursting possibility. I've learned that this perspective is a choice and that choosing positivity over negativity requires both clarity and courage.
Though my COVID test was hardly an occasion of "darkness," I did see the "light" in it: kind people, efficient service and an experience that wasn't as unpleasant as I thought it might be.
The same is true of my interactions with the healthcare system since being diagnosed with cancer. Everyone in the medical community who has supported me has been wonderful—from the doctors, to the physician assistants, to the nurses, to the porters, to the receptionists, to the volunteers.
My experience today and my perspective most days mirrors a story that Spiegel describes in her book:
A woman walked up to a gate of a guarded community and asked, "What kind of people are here in your community?"
The man at the gate replied, "What kind of people are there where you are from?"
"Well, they are mean, rude, nasty, and short-sighted," she said.
"You will find the same people here," he told her.
A few minutes later, another woman walked up to the man and asked, "What kind of people are here in this community?"
The man at the gate replied, "What kind of people are there where you are from?"
"They are kind, loving, authentic, and good," she said.
"You will find the same people here," he told her.
And so it is. We often find exactly what we believe we will.
I've heard this story before, with slight variations, and have always loved it.
A Year of Positive Thinking is written with a different inspiration for each day. Today's message is this:
We live in a world of constant activity that leaves us feeling overcharged. But there is so much power in stillness. What would happen if you slowed down? Would the world around you feel different?
Try it. Slow down. Breathe in. Look outward. See inward. Exhale. Repeat as often as needed.
The universe must be conspiring for me to slow down today.
One friend sent me this thought of the day: "It takes courage to say yes to rest and play in a culture where exhaustion is seen as a status symbol."
Another friend, who is recovering from a brain injury, wrote this morning: "Accepting my limitations has dramatically changed my perspective, helping me to embrace a slower pace. I now endure such hardships as watching the mist rise off the lake each morning, recognizing the call of a Pileated woodpecker, and reaping the rewards of helping neighbours and friends. These are but a few gifts I would have missed had I not changed my pace."
And a third sent me a link to brainpickings, which includes this quote from Hermann Hesse: "The high value put upon every minute of time, the idea of hurry-hurry as the most important objective of living, is unquestionably the most dangerous enemy of joy."
So, I encourage you today to find even 5 minutes to slow down, breathe, look around you and look inward. Think about what has brought you joy.
My joy today includes A Year of Positive Thinking and the thoughtfulness of so many people in my life.
