Enlisted

For over a week now, RJ and I have noticed that "someone's" urine has been appearing really dark in the toilet bowl - an alarming, unnatural brown. First I chalked it up to dehydration. Plus, it wasn't happening ALL the time.

RJ, the ever-diligent research scholar, read up on possibilities and grew very concerned. Last night we decided to run an experiment to see who was the contributor.

See, output from the both of us looks innocuous at first. But, over time, due to density, urine sinks. And we would've never known had we not been observing water conversation rules like good boys and girls, doing the little that we can since our great state has been suffering a record-breaking drought with repercussions that are going to take decades to recover from, if we ever recover at all.

And, thus, much to my delight, I just learned the old adage: "If it's yellow, let is mellow. If it's brown, flush it down!"

Well, they weren't counting brown pee, mind you.

Before long, I informed RJ that we didn't have to continue with the experiment for as long as we had expected. I was the culprit. And we'd both suspected it, actually. RJ had tried to be delicate about it, but he'd be home all day, and no brown phenomenon whilst he was alone, only when I would be home.

Even though the symptom suggests liver issue(s) linked to renal failure, RJ assured me that I'd be a long way from the least optimistic fate.

I started to tally the odds against me: years of autoimmune meds that are known to increase the risk of liver damage, family history of cancer - all three of my mother's brothers died of liver cancer (and that's just ONE kind out of the plethora from both branches), not to mention my, now somewhat milder, but still less-than-ideal, drinking habits.

HC, one of my dearest friends, just spent both Thanksgiving and Christmas in surgery, trying to rid her body of cancer. For about five years she's battled tumors and fibroids in addition. It's almost surreal. She's a tough cookie, and that is a gross understatement.

When I disclosed to HC I was having bloodwork done tomorrow with honorable mention of the outlook, she joked, "Whatever it is, it couldn't be worse than what I've dealt with."

I told her about my three uncles, all of whom perished at a fairly young age. "I don't want to beat you," I said. "But I could!" With an "LOL" at the end, of course.

"The bright side is suffering wouldn't be long," I said to HC, noting that most liver cancer patients don't detect until late stage.

It is easy for me to say this now, that I am not afraid. I am afraid of suffering, sure, but not of dying. Death is the ultimate release. Of course it is scary, the journey to it, the unknown, especially for those of us who do not necessarily believe in the afterlife. But death in and of itself should not warrant fear, given that it is inevitable. Why not come to terms with it, be at peace with it? On some levels, and this should not shock you, a part of me has welcome THE END for a long time. Oh, the solace of the sheer notion!

But... the trick is I do not wish to be a burden. Even if I go quickly (and one can hope), I couldn't bear to cause my parents this grief. No parent should have to bury their child. (That is figure of speech since I choose to be cremated.)

And the mess that my brother and sis-in-law (and RJ!) would have to clean up! Life is chaos. And so can death be. Ugh, I wish that on no one indeed!

But I suppose nobody can go through life without ever inconveniencing another human being. As a matter of fact, we inconvenience most those who care about us and love us.

With new year's on the horizon, my lab results will probably not going to be back until next year.

"Whatever this is," I said to HC. "I'll handle it."

"And it could be nothing!" RJ keeps reminding me.

Whatever this is, let's bring out the champagne, and drink to it anyway, I say.