Why I Was Happy to Wake Up This Morning ... and Other Superstitions

Take a look at January's calendar.  See how the 5th, 12th, 19th, and 26th are all lined up in a neat little column?  Get this -- My dad died on January 26, 2000 at the age of 68.  My mom died five years later, on January 12, 2005, also at the age of 68.  My sister died three years later (eight years after dad), on January 19, 2008.  See where I'm going here?  We really think my sister picked that day, exactly one week in between the two.  Since then, January 5th has been worrisome to me, but not like this year.  In addition to the dates, this year is eight years after my sister died.  That coupled with my diagnosis and, well ... I hope you don't think I'm off my rocker, but I was a little worried about yesterday.  I was feeling pretty well yesterday, so I wasn't overly worried, but it was still there, in the back of my mind.  So, I may die one year on January 5th, but this is not that year.  :)

Superstitious?  Maybe.  Some of you might think -- "You purport yourself to be Christian.  Christians don't believe in superstitions."  (Some of you might not -- more on my crisis of faith in a future blog entry.)  I think superstition does have it's part in religion; not all superstitions have to do with black cats and walking under ladders.  Maybe I shouldn't call it a superstition.  Maybe I should call it simply an odd thing.  Well, if you're interested in a few more odd things, keep reading. 

Here is a link to my caringbridge page journal from when I (thought) I saw my mother peeking in on me from the hallway to see if I was okay, just as she did when I was little.  This was the night following my first chemo session.  Scary?  No.  Comforting?  Yes.
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/tammypayne/journal/view/id/551fcbaa8b5cd3621a32703b

Here's another.  This one goes back a few years, and has nothing to do with my cancer, but falls into the category.  When I was pregnant with Son #2, I took Son #1 with me to ultrasounds.  On the morning of one particular appointment, my mom called.  "Is it still a girl?" she asks.  (At all previous ultrasound appointments, the doctor said it was a girl.)  "I haven't been to the appointment yet, mom, I'll let you know."  So then she gets on the phone with Son #1 (age four at the time) who says to her, "Nana, it's not a girl; it's a boy."  Mom asks him who told him that.  "PopPop".  PopPop was in heaven.  So, as I lay on the table having the ultrasound, I relate the story to my doctor.  Doctor says, "Well, he's right.  It's a boy."  Wow.

Related to above, are countless times something similar to this happened:  While sitting at the dinner table, quietly, the little boy starts to laugh.  "Why are you laughing?" we ask.  "Riggo's licking my face."  Riggo is my dad's dog, also in heaven, who neither of my sons saw while he was alive.  :)

Last story.  Again, while pregnant with Son #2.  Early on in the pregnancy, I had a dream that I would die on the delivery table.  I don't remember most of my dreams, but this one was vivid, and I remembered it.  In it, I'm on the delivery table after the baby is born.  The doctor lays the baby on my stomach before handing him over to the pediatric nurse.  Then the nurse comes over, and as I hand the baby to her, I hear disembodied voice say, "You won't survive."  Terrified, I was.  My husband is a big proponent of, if you tell people about your dreams, they won't happen.  So I told everyone.  My friends, my neighbors, the poor people behind me in line at the grocery store.... 

When I told the delivery room nurse (before delivery) and described the room to her, she told me that they only had one room that looked like that, and she would do her best to get me into another room.  She did.  :)  Also, I wasn't expecting the doctor to put the baby on my stomach because he didn't do that with Son #1, so I didn't tell him.  Well, he did.  OMG!  So, shift change happened before the nurse came for the baby, so the new nurse had no idea.  She looked at me like I was crazy when I told her, "Long story short, I know it's weird, but here's how it's gonna go -- I'm not going to give you the baby.  He (pointing to husband) will take the baby, and you can take the baby from him."  You should have seen her face.  I explained it when she came back, but I'm sure she thought I was all kinds of crazy.  Meanwhile, my sister (who is a nurse and at the time was working on the cardiac floor of the same hospital) called at 11:00pm to see how things were going and that she was heading home (baby wasn't born yet).  As there was only one nurse in the room with me (doctor was sleeping down the hallway, waiting) and I remember tons of people in the room with my first child, I asked if she could stay.  She did.  Two weeks later, she called and asked me why I hadn't told her about my dream.  I said, "I'm sure I told you.  I told everyone!"  If I did, she didn't remember.  Turns out, she had had a dream, too.  In her dream, I coded on the delivery table.  So, when she called the room at 11 and said she was going home, she was in actuality going to sit in the waiting room, just in case they called a code.  Do you have chills reading this?  I do, every time I tell it.

I'm sure there are many more examples.  You probably have a few examples yourselves.  Sometimes these things happen and we don't really notice them, or brush them off as being a coincidence.  I'm a firm believer that there are no coincidences.  How about you?







Update with another story related to my cancer.  Telling people vs not telling people about my diagnosis.  I decided to tell everyone because, well I needed the support.  Also I would never be able to keep track of who I told what to -- you know, husband and immediate family everything, friends and coworkers less, and so on.  So, after we told family, I posted it on Facebook.  The amount of support that I got, and continue to get is simply amazing.  There are no adequate words to describe it.  So, fast forward to post chemo and surgery.  My sister (same sister, the nurse) and I are having a conversation on the phone.  She told me that when she heard my diagnosis, she really didn't think I would make it.  She firmly believes that all of the love and support I received has something to do with it.  I think she's right.    


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