No Time to Kill

There's no time to kill between the cradle and the grave
Father Time still takes a toll on every minute that you save
Legal tender's never gonna change the number on your days
The highest cost of livin's dyin', that's one everybody pays
So have it spent before you get the bill, there's no time to kill
-Clint Black

I've tried to start this post maybe three times now. I keep starting and stopping unable to focus on what is happening right now. I'm just moving through the days attempting to focus on work or home when it is appropriate. Trying to not think about my impending surgery and what new challenges it will bring. I'm trying to kill time.

The concept of killing time is something we are all familiar with. We all feel the need to fill time at some point. Form the time we are children when the anticipation of Christmas morning fills us with a giddy joy. The thinking about what we might get from Santa is probably more fun then what we actually receive. So we spend hours wishing and thinking and planning what we will do with our new toys, effectively killing the time before Christmas morning with joyful thoughts of the day to come.

Sometimes killing time as an adult can be similar. Planning a wedding, waiting for the birth of your first child or moving day into your new home can give you that sense of joyful anticipation. The planning and considering the colors of your flowers, the name of your child or where you will place the new couch allows for the time to slip by without the fear of potential pitfalls creeping into your head. The thoughts of divorce or an ill child or problems with you new homes foundation are easily cast out of your mind as the many details of this new challenge can bring positive thoughts easily to mind.

Waiting for this surgery has not been such a joyful occasion for me. I'm worried about the pain I will be in immediately following the surgery. I'm worried about the bills that will fill my mailbox over the next few months. I'm worried about the limitation that will come with the surgery. Will I be able to play softball or lift things with my right hand? Will there be more lymph nodes removed? Will the pathology reveal new tumors or change the prognosis?

The planning for my surgery is not nearly the same kind of fun as planning for a new home. My purchases are decidedly unsexy things like pajamas for the hospital or large tops that button in the front so that I can get in and out of them easily. I have a prescription for a camisole with little pockets in it to hold the drains but I haven't worked up the energy to go out and buy the garment. Buying medical wear doesn't really help kill the time in the same way that say getting a new crib for your first born or even (at my age) getting a new dining room table might.

I'm filling the days and I think I'm doing ok projecting normalcy to my friends and co-workers, many of them whom I have not told yet of my surgery. At work it is easy to focus on the details of the daily news cycle and interact with co-workers, joking about the ridiculous stories we see and complaining about the usual corporate silliness. At home I can focus on my husband, dinner, cleaning and the usual things. But the fears are never far away. There is always a moment when the house is quiet and I am just stirring the soup. Or a moment at work when the story I am reading is on cancer. Or the drive home alone in the car. Those moments are filled with thoughts of surgery, thoughts of cancer, fears of the future. And then someone rings the bell or the light changes and I am back to killing time cooking or driving or working.

I'm not crazy about killing time. Time is the one thing I need more of. It's the one thing I am afraid of running out of. It's the thing above all others I wanted more of in my life. I hate killing time but here I sit trying to do just that. Wishing for the day this cancer is gone and my life is back. The days when I can just focus on the day itself without a need to look forward or backward but instead just enjoy now. Wishing for the plain old days when there is nothing new on the horizon and no reason to kill time looking for it.

If we had an hour glass to watch each one go by
Or a bell to mark each one to pass, we'd see just how they fly
Would we escalate the value to be worth its weight in gold
Or would we never know the fortunes that we had 'til we grow old
And do we just keep killin' time until there's no time to kill

No Time to Kill