I’m getting the nagging feeling that I’m jinxed. The Universe is sending some pretty strong hints in that direction, anyway. I feel like I’m in the eye of the hurricane, myself relatively unaffected, watching the chaos and tragedy swirl around me with dizzying force.
Thinking back, I reckon that it actually started with my “cool aunt”; she was conflicted, both externally and internally, as her own mother’s health began to decline a bit more sharply. I witnessed the back-and-forth tennis match between guilt/co-dependence and a desire to continue with a therapeutic plan for her physical health, relax, and have some fun for once.
That was like the 1976 Ebola outbreak in Zaire was to the AIDS epidemic–an unrelated event, but a prodromal sign of things to come. The acute phase of the fickle finger of God(dess) was the loss of Maddie’s appetite, followed by her weight, which leapfrogged my partner’s best friend’s parallel downward spiral. One week it was one, then the other, and back again until eventually, both suddenly succumbed to their disease: cancer.
From that moment on, I walked on eggshells. Things happen in 3’s; where was the volcano’s next lava bomb going to hit? What would it destroy? Who would be the next casualty? Every day that I did not receive catastrophic news about a loved one was a good day indeed.
Not a moment too soon, my father was diagnosed with COPD, a progressive, degenerative, and often eventually fatal lung disease. He was given about 10 years before he’d have to lug around an oxygen tank just to live. Compared to the immediately preceding events, this was a minor hiccup, but like my “tia loca”‘s mother, it probably isn’t going to get much better from here, and it may be a sign of things to come later.
Then the floodgates opened, and all hell broke loose. Within the last week alone, I learned that my “tia loca” herself has since been diagnosed with cancer for a second time; my other cat has been diagnosed with hyperthyroidism, which in the feline world means a benign tumor of the thyroid gland, requiring lifelong medication or radiation therapy; one friend lost the baby she was carrying; my father was diagnosed with an adrenal tumor, which is likely benign but could be otherwise; and another friend lost her sister at a young age.
The week before that, my parents’ neighbor and friend lost his mother unexpectedly, and another friend and neighbor is deathly concerned about his mother’s life.
I think I’m going to dive under a boulder and not touch anything, because it seems that by simply knowing me, you’re doomed. Maybe if the Universe forgets about me, bad things will stop happening to good people.
The most recent monthly astrological horoscope mentioned that October would be a particular time of trial for practically everybody (heads up on that, in case you weren’t aware). But gifted as this astrologer is, I don’t recall her saying anything about the shit hitting the fan during the two weeks beforehand. So what gives?
Maybe we’ll never know. All I know is, it’s a really good idea to resist the temptation to ask, “what next?” a question that goads the Universe into saying, “oh yeah?” and casting lightning bolts in all directions, particularly toward the one who asked the question.
I am thankful that I am not the one who is sick, mourning, or dead. But it doesn’t really comfort me, because it’s almost as painful to watch those I love most treading muck and weathering the storm. All I can do is send hugs, warm thoughts, and prayers all around. Thankfully, those are in endless supply, an assumption I’m definitely putting to the test.