Last night's colonoscopy was normal. No polyps. Good for another five years. Thank goodness, as I found the prep and recovery harder this time than they had been on previous occasions. I felt more discomfort in my abdomen overnight than I can remember having experienced in the past—a result of the build-up of gas they pumped into me to get a good look at my colon. And I was pretty tired today, not to mention headachy. A long nap this afternoon helped considerably. I may have been feeling the cumulative effects of fatigue from my COVID vaccine on Tuesday and my colonoscopy on Friday. Despite the inconvenience and discomfort of these health measures (particularly the colonoscopy), I remain convinced that preventive medicine is worth it.

I've made a slight change to the format for Saturday Synopsis: I've eliminated the three groupings of 3+ Ideas From Me, 2+ Quotes From Others and 1 Question For You. I had been inspired by the weekly 3-2-1 newsletter that James Clear, author of Atomic Habits, publishes each Thursday. However, I was finding that, as I reviewed past posts from 3 years ago, 2 years ago and 1 year ago, I often found more than a half dozen gems I wanted to share with you. Rereading my past posts is like reading something written by someone else, much like eating leftovers I made is like eating something someone else prepared.

My favourite post in this week's synopsis is the last entry. It's a message for a loved one to say that even if I don't call, or stop by, or send cards or gifts as often as I did in the past, I still think of you frequently. And it's a message for each of us to act on our thoughts of loved ones—to reach out, to say hi, to express gratitude to them for being in our life.

There is dignity in honestly reflecting what one is thinking and feeling, especially when documenting a story in all its colours.... I have thought more about my own mortality in the last three months than I have in my entire life. I find comfort in thinking about my legacy, more than my mortality.

I was recently inspired by a passage in Books for Living: Some Thoughts on Reading, Reflecting, and Embracing Life. Author Will Schwalbe shares a story about a woman who was feeling out of touch with her grandson, who lived in a different state. When she would call him to ask about school or how his day was, he would respond in one-word answers. "Fine. Nothing. Nope." Then one day, she asked him what he was reading. His answer was The Hunger Games—a series of novels for young adults. The grandmother decided to read the first volume. Then this happened: "The book helped this grandmother cut through the superficialities of phone chat and engage her grandson on the most important questions humans face about survival and destruction and loyalty and betrayal and good and evil, and about politics as well. And it helped her grandson engage with his grandmother on these same issues—not as a child in need of a lecture, but as a fellow seeker.... [T]hey were no longer just grandmother and grandson: they were two readers embarked on a journey together. Now her grandson couldn't wait to talk to her when she called.... The Hunger Games gave them inspiration for deeper discussions than they had ever had, and it provided them with a wealth of prompts for their conversations.... Other than the accident of family, they had never had much in common. Now they did. The conduit was reading."

"Many women with ovarian cancer say they quickly found out whom amongst their family and friends were really there for them. Some people have a negative outlook and only see doom and gloom, which may not be constructive to a patient coping with her disease. It can be very burdensome to have to cheer up a friend or relative who gets upset because you are ill. If friends and relatives are not managing your illness well, you have to find ways to rely on those who are able to help."

~ Ovarian Cancer Research Alliance

Even when the impact of cancer on loved ones is acknowledged, the focus tends to be on the patient's immediate family, for example, the spouse or partner and children of an adult with cancer, and often on providing advice on how to support the patient. Very little is written about adult siblings, parents and friends. This lack of information leaves people in the latter category with limited support to deal with their emotions, which can include worry, anger and fear, but also guilt that they're not sick and a sense of helplessness as they grapple with how to help the sick person.

As a frequent multi-tasker, I have often had to remind myself to "be here now, be somewhere else later." It's a simple mantra that I repeat to myself whenever my mind drifts to some other place and time than the one I'm in.... And, of course, it's a perfect phrase to use as I deal with cancer. All I can control is today: what I do, how I think and feel, and what beauty I choose to see around me.

For many things in life, the world won't come crashing down if something we hoped to get done today has to wait for another day. Tomorrow is wide open with possibilities.

"The what-if tree has a sturdy trunk with strong roots at the bottom—that’s the present moment. As you climb the what-if tree, with each branching what-if scenario the branches get thinner and your footing gets shakier. At some point, it’s not useful to think that far ahead."

~ Jade Wu, Afraid of a Loved One Dying? How to Keep Yourself Tethered to Now

"Make a list of things to look forward to in both the near and far future. Sometimes it can feel like there is nothing to look forward to, so we’ll start by saying we know that this is easier said than done. That’s why we’re proponents of creating things to look forward to too. That might mean reframing your thinking (you can look forward to something as simple as the next warm sunny day, or getting into bed with clean sheets) or adding something to your calendar for next week, month, or year."

~ Self magazine, "50 of Our All-Time Best Mental Health Tips to Help You Feel a Little Bit Better"

I've always found that doing something physical that requires limited concentration—such as walking, cleaning a room, or gardening—allows me to contemplate an issue without focusing on it directly. It offers a perfect balance between fixating on a problem and ignoring it completely, which often leads to a fresh perspective.

When our differences hurt no one, it's best to live and let live. To accept the beautiful diversity of humanity. To remember that other people have different priorities, preferences and proclivities. And to respect all the ways that people differ—because weird and ordinary, atypical and typical, and abnormal and normal depend on how we look at it.

When we share health-related details, we inspire others to be a little less shy and a little more forthcoming with their own healthcare professionals. And when we tell family members and close friends about our health challenges, we can help them avoid or better manage their health issues by making them aware of various conditions and their treatment.

Please know that while I may not call every day, I still think about you. While I may not come around as often, I still wonder how you're doing. While I may not send you cards and little gifts, I still care. I thought of you today and instead of letting that thought drift away, like so many other thoughts I've had of you in the past, I decided to say hi. I just wanted you to know that I'm grateful you're in my life.