Routine: Have you started a new routine this January? Is this routine different from last year? Is it the result of a resolution or goal you’re working on? Tell us about your days. How do they flow? If you’d like, maybe give us a full “day in the life” or just some snippets.
My life is anything but routine these days.
I am waiting. Waiting for news. Waiting for the phone to ring.
Waiting is fine for other people, I keep telling myself. I am not a patient woman; I am used to skipping to the head of the class, the front of the line. I had to wait to board a plane for the first time in years, recently, and it was stupidly jarring. But…how have I forgotten who I am; what kind of idiot am I who thinks it is her birthright to go first?
So what makes me worthier of right now?
The answer is…nothing.
Not desire; not status; not…anything. When it comes to waiting — the cosmic wait — I am just one amongst many; one amongst millions and billions. Take a number, kiddo. Wait it out.
Since December, that has been the routine: Wait it out.
I wait. I phone friends. I try to go about my daily routine — what’s left of it. I snuggle up with the dog
When this process got started, the doctor’s nurse told me to write down some words that were meaningful. I wrote down: Patience; bravery; stillness. When this process was well underway, she told me: You have great veins, as she took my blood. They always say that to me, like having great veins can set aside the cognitive dissonance of the seeing a youngish, healthy-looking woman curled up in a hospital bed.
Today, the phone rings; the wait is over. This is the news I have been waiting for.
It is weird, suddenly, to find that I have come through a thing I never fully knew I was suffering. It is strange to suddenly possess a new vocabulary of sharp and dangerous words. Cutting words; cut-out words. I have, without my complete knowledge or consent, inherited a lexicon of survivor words.
And so begins a new life and a new routine. It is a peculiar, quiet triumph.