Today I attended our monthly Motor Neurones Disease (MND) clinic. And today, more than ever before, it really started to shift my perspective on things. Which is good. Because the minute it doesn't, it means I have become numb.
I don't know if you have heard of MND or know anyone who has this medical condition, but I guarantee if you have that you wont have forgotten it. MND in my opinion is probably one of the worst and cruelest medical conditions that exist. When you get diagnosed, for most people this means that you have any where from 9 months to 5 years to live. No treatment. No cure. Nothing. At least with cancer you have a chance of fighting it. But with MND...there is nothing that can be done. Ahead of you...you are likely to lose the strength and movement in your legs. So you can not stand or walk. You lose the strength and movement in your arms. So you can not dress yourself, feed yourself, scratch an itch, hug someone, or wipe your own nose. You may lose the strength of the muscles in your face/throat. Which means you slowly lose the ability to eat and drink. Or even swallow your own saliva. You may also lose the strength in your diaphragm. Which means you struggle to breathe. Yet all this time, in most cases, your mind is alert and knows whats going on. And there is nothing you can do.
Today I sat and watched the patients in front of me. I watched one man as he struggled to breathe. Every breath took such effort and left him exhausted. And I wondered how often I stop and appreciate the fact that I breathe without even realising it. You hear people say "I appreciate the air I breathe"...but I wonder if they really do.
I watched another man in front of me as he "ate" his meal down a PEG tube sticking out of his stomach. And I thought about all the times I feel guilty for eating a piece of chocolate.
I watched the woman who could barely stand and walk across the room, and I thought about all the times I complain about having to walk anywhere or do some exercise because I cant be bothered.
I watched the man who had lost the ability to talk...and I asked myself if I had told all the people in my world enough times that I loved them.
And I watched the carers of all these people...the sons, wives, husbands...and saw the heartache that came as they watched the person they loved die slowly in front of them. And I thought about all the times that I get caught up in petty arguments with family members, rarely stopping to appreciate the time that I have with them.
I wondered if my perspective would change if I knew that I was dying, or I was watching someone I loved dying. And then...I realised that my perspective should change NOW. I don't want to wait to appreciate and love the people closest to me. To wait for the right time to stop and literally breathe and smell the flowers. To walk to places and experience adventure. To use my hands to help others. The time is now. I read a man complaining in the paper today because an Australian sporting team put their hand over their heart as they sang our national anthem, and he was angry because it was un-Australian (and too American). And I thought...that's what you choose to get angry about?! Is your life so small that that's what is important?! The world is big and there is much to be done...and that world might just be the people around you. The neighbour who is sick. The friend who is lonely. Its time we had a shift in our perspective.
"I cant tell how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life. We didn't fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you. Your lives aren't small, but you're living them in a small way" 2 Corinthians 6:11-13 (message)
