If Today Was Your Last Day

I’m rapidly approaching another date with the donut machine (CT scan). I should really be on a yearly schedule by now but I’m still on an every 6th month schedule. Unfortunately, one of them always happens right before Christmas—I’m going to ask if I can tweak the schedule for the next year.

Anyway, as I was going about my business today, a song by Nickelback titled, If Today Was Your Last Day, played through my mind.

If today was my last day would I still be in my jammies at 11:00 in the morning? Would I change those litter pans again? Would I catch up on the ironing? Would I clean the toilets?

Other than the jammie thing, the answers would be no….if I knew today was my last day. But I don’t know, do I?

I would like to live as if today was my last day and enjoy each and every second, but there are moments we have to do what we have to do and some of them are mundane and not so pleasant.ย Why do my days seem to be centered around crap containers?

Anyway….I’m seeing a side of myself I don’t believe I’ve been paying attention to. A good person with troubled thoughts at times.

I need a bit of time to gather my thoughts. I know my blog is full of random topics, but I think I need to change some things, because the positive side of me is much larger than the dark things I write about. Both make me a whole person but I have more good than bad now.

If today was my last day, I want the words I leave behind to be different from the ones I have so far. I’ve made some poor choices during periods of untreated depression and have to live with the consequences, but I don’t want to whine about them—the whining holds me back. I’m learning how to like myself after decades of hating myself. That was then, this is now. I have an illness, the illness does not have me. (how’s that for a few cliches?)

I will be reading as I regroup.


About April

I'll come back to this when I find out who I really am. I've been through some extremely rough patches but they have made me a better person. I blog if my brain is functioning first thing in the morning.
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25 Responses to If Today Was Your Last Day

  1. I get this in many ways — different circumstances but reading your words, I relate to many parts. I think your positive light shines bright even on hard days. Thinking of you as you prepare for the CT scan.

  2. aviets says:

    I’ll be thinking of you every day. Sending virtual hugs…

  3. joey says:

    I understand this completely, and have even considered writing about it. If I knew I had X amount of time, a number of things would change, none of which are possible while expecting more than X amount of time. For this reason, I get a lil huffy when people throw around the phrase to begin with — especially the ones about children.
    I hope your results are clear and that you keep your positive attitude regardless. Hope is always a better choice, but I do understand the darkness.

    • April says:

      I’d love to hear what you say about it. I enjoy your take on life. Although, I can say that I learned a little from my sister. She knew her time was limited, just didn’t know exactly when. So, she kept doing what she did every day, she got up to go to work. However, she did seem to enjoy the fun times a little bit more. She learned to quit stressing over nonsense.

      I’m hoping the results are okay. I’m going to a new place since the last place created such chaos I don’t even know if the radiologist read the scan thoroughly.

      • joey says:

        The new place will be better. Old is only good for friends, art and wine ๐Ÿ˜‰ haha!
        I dunno if I’ll write about it, I never like to answer questions about having been sick. Maybe I’ll think about it for a few more years.
        I think your sister had the right mindset. (Also sorry for your loss.)

  4. meANXIETYme says:

    I get it, too. I am often compelled to write about the things that hurt or upset me and leave out the things that make me happy. That’s part of the reason why I struggle with writing on a regular basis because I don’t want every single post to be sad or negative or hurting. But honestly, those are the times I need to write the most, so I am trying to remember that I’m writing for me and not necessarily for others. If others get something out of it, then that’s a bonus to me.
    Good luck with your CT. I’ll be sending positive vibes your way.

    • April says:

      I too have to write to get it off my mind. It’s not that I think all my future posts will be all smiles and sunshine, I just wish to recognize that I do have a good life. Not all of it stinks. Thanks for the positive vibes!

  5. inmycorner says:

    I hate waiting for test results – truthfully we are no different going in for the results than when we come out – other than the way we think. Yesterday was my check-up. I went in after a panic attack in the morning (first one ever) and came out feeling 30 pounds lighter. What you are experiencing is so very normal and it has nothing to do with whether you are a good person or not. Today, I take pleasure in the mundane. People are my legacy and and on my bucket list. If today were my last day, I would be sure to call my friends and family and tell them how much I love them. i will be thinking of you and looking for positive results!!!!

    • April says:

      I like that…people being your legacy. It is important to let friends and family know how much they mean to us—always.

      My last scan has had me thinking I have cancer spreading to my brain. I know that’s silly, but usually my scan results are at least two pages full of information. I went to a different place closer to my home. After the week of anxiety I had my doctor’s appointment only to find, after two hours sitting in an exam room, they didn’t have the results. The imaging center lost my scan. I ended up getting a 2 paragraph rush job stating nothing new. However, they have been watching a lesion on my liver and spleen, and a spot on my right lung. Not a one of those were mentioned. I let my doctor know.I didn’t have any faith in the results. I still have a couple of weeks to go and I’m trying not to get myself too worked up. Yes, the mundane has a different meaning when you’ve been given more time.

      • inmycorner says:

        oh – that is so difficult. April I have faith that you will be okay. I had lesions in my liver and spleen – they removed 1/3 of my liver and took my spleen. Now – there is nothing. I thought I had brain cancer too — but it was just my imagination. Hold tight lady!!! It grows slowly and there is no need to panic — those are things that can be removed. This is such a difficult journey. I am with you!

  6. Wish you all good luck with the scanning April.
    It is so nice to read about your positivity ๐Ÿ™‚

  7. Glynis Jolly says:

    I need to change the tone of my blog too, April. I may be serious and a loner, but that doesn’t mean I’m grave all the time. Yet, looking at my blog, you’d think I never find anything happy. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    Last day of life? My personal belief is that there isn’t such a thing. There’s only a major change at some point.

  8. smilecalm says:

    how wonderful for us both
    that you
    are here, still
    as am I ๐Ÿ™‚

  9. reocochran says:

    I hope uour test goes well and changing it so it doesn’t end up always landing close to the holidays would allow dome breathing room, April. I cannot imagine going every 6 months for something so serious.
    My youngest daughter had JRA, which meant she had every 3 months blood tests and apps at Children’s Hospital and MRI’s every 6 months. It was not cancer nor life and death. We usually would eat out or shop since I would take the whole day off. I would sit on the room for the MRI and read, she would listen to rap on an ipod, I think it was. Maybe they piped her cd through a system? I forget. She now eats only foods that don’t trigger pain and inflammation. It helps her to feel she us somewhat in charge of the decline of her joints.
    Happy November, April. Many things you write about are funny, like the odd products and the dog who is so easy going while you dress him up. Big as he is, his antlers or bunny ears make him look like a sweetie. ๐Ÿ™‚

    • April says:

      Thanks Robin! It must be so hard to have to watch your daughter go through so much pain. I hope you have a happy November as well!

      • reocochran says:

        It has been hard, but seeing her take charge of her own destiny as an adult helps me. She finds swimming, pilates, hot yoga to help her stretch her joints and keeps her diet free of those “triggers” you read about.
        Hope all goes well, dear, with your test results. Going somewhere new is a great idea for changing up the feelings of the whole “ordeal.” I would not dwell too much on the way we would live if we were dying as you mentioned your sister had a great outlook: Just keep on going for many, many years, April. โ™ก

  10. mewhoami says:

    I love this statement, “I have more good than bad now.” That’s great, April! Someone said the other day, “Have you ever noticed how people suddenly start living after being told that they only have 6 months to live?” Really got me thinking. Why do we wait until our final days to start living? What would I do? I’d go visit family if possible. If not, I would insist that my husband take a day off work, keep my son home from school, and we’d all head up to the mountains for a day drive/hike/adventure.

  11. This is beautiful, April. Big hugs!

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