My dad said that after you turn 8o years of age, you don’t have to follow the rules anymore. I never figured out which ones, because he didn’t break any that I could tell.
A long time ago I was following an old Cadillac whose driver didn’t notice that the light ahead had turned red, and he barreled into the compact car ahead of him. The Cadillac bounced back from the crash, and then moved forward hitting the compact again, and then again. I stopped my car, put on the emergency flashers, then headed over to the Cadillac. I helped the elderly and severely inebriated driver put his transmission into park, and then went to help the woman in the compact get out of the car and off the roadway so she didn’t get hit again by someone else.
The man slowly got out of the Cadillac and then staggered around in the traffic lanes essentially oblivious to what he had done. He just kept saying “I just found out I have cancer,” over and over. He said it in a way that sounded like it excused what he had done.
I had no sympathy for him. The police showed up, I explained what I had seen, and they took over.
Clearly, drunk driving is not an appropriate response to a cancer diagnosis. Yet I have found myself, having been cut off in traffic or tailgated, or otherwise having been subject to inconsiderate conduct, mouthing words such as ‘oh come on man, give me a break, I’m going in for cancer surgery next week.’ It isn’t a Dead Man Walking situation where you get to eat anything you want the day before you are executed, but I have found myself experiencing a little sense of entitlement, like maybe that I should be able to go through the express lane at the grocery store even though I have 17 items.
So, self-pity can come easily. But you go down that path and you end up feeling worse, and like the drunk in the Cadillac, you get no sympathy.
I’ve found some things that do work.
First, I try to always keep a smile on my face when I’m around other people, and laugh easily. Last night we met a couple at dinner and when they had to leave, he looked right at me and said “Ken, every time I see you, you are always smiling – I like that!” I thought to myself, ‘if you only knew.’ But he felt better being around a happy person, and I did too. Some times I have found that even if I am not happy, if I pretend to be I will often become happy.
Second, someone recently said if you find yourself in a major crisis that could consume you, find someone who is worse off and try to help them. Focusing on other people will help you forget about yourself. I am remiss in not yet having found the venue for this, but I’ve still got about 36 hours before my cancer surgery so there is still hope.
Third, just because you have cancer doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time. After all, you might die because the guy behind you in a Cadillac just got diagnosed with cancer, got drunk, and barreled into you without touching the brake. So take heart and enjoy the time you have, be it days, weeks, months or years. You never know. So get out and have some fun.
So there you have it in a nutshell: Ken’s rules to live by:
First, drunk driving – bad.
Second, making other people feel better – good.
Third, enjoy yourself while you can.
And even if you have cancer, you still have to follow these rules.