I’ll be okay!
On an otherwise mild Monday morning in spring, I found myself tense and cold, trembling uncontrollably like a lonely leaf clinging to a branch on a frosty winter’s day.
“Strange,” I thought… “I was perfectly fine yesterday.”
“Perhaps I’m coming down with something?”
*Swallows paracetamol*
Gulp… exhale…
“I’ll be okay.”
What Would You Tomorrow Want You Today to Do?
More than just words, this question is a tool for survival.
I first heard it from Jimmy Carr (the comedian) and again referenced recently by Chris Williamson (the Modern Wisdom podcast guy). Like them, I think it’s a great question to ask ourselves when faced with a difficult decision.
What would you tomorrow want you today to do?
See if the following resonates…
“Asking yourself this question is so effective, I think, because it rips you out of the moment and stops you from relying so heavily on the confused chemical signals coming from your body.
Instead, it gives you a bit more distance, depersonalises the decision, and helps you treat yourself like a friend that you're responsible for helping.
It forces you to optimise for long-term thinking rather than immediate gratification.
It reminds you that ultimately, decisions aren't being made for you now; they’re being made for you in 24 hours, 24 days, and 24 months.
You can see our decisions as investments that we make into our future.
You live with the story of your decisions far longer than the immediate impact of them, so you have to choose wisely.”
I like it.
But what does it have to do with CF?
Symptoms Continue
On Wednesday morning, after a severe lack of sleep and with a temperature of 39.8, I knew I had a decision to make. Admit defeat and call the hospital, or throw caution to the wind and hope it’ll pass…
In my head: “What would you tomorrow want you today to do?”
Call the hospital.
Arriving at the hospital conjures up a whirlwind of emotion.
Disbelief: The stark irony of smokers who treat their lungs with utter disregard, blatantly stood outside the respiratory ward, while inside, doctors work tirelessly to aid those gasping for air, many through no fault of their own.
Fear: The haunting echo of days gone by and anticipation of what awaits when I step through those doors, with no certainty of when I’ll walk out the other way.
Worry: The nagging doubt of whether this time will be different, and if so, what if it’s worse.
But we always have a choice in how we present ourselves.
Difficult, negative, angry and abrupt.
Or happy, optimistic, helpful and appreciative.
In my head: “What would you tomorrow want you today to do?”
Choose the latter.
An X-ray follows a full blood panel.
My CRP infection markers were 256 mg/dL (where normal is 0.3 to 1.0) and my chest X-ray revealed pneumonia on the superior lobe of my right lung.
I know what this means; IV antibiotics.
Nine injections, three times a day, for two weeks.
But first, we need to find a vein.
Doctor: “Are you happy for us to try to place an IV line now?”
In my head: “What would you tomorrow want you today to do?”
Say Yes!
We tried, we failed - five times in total.
It was no surprise though; my veins, weakened from countless IV lines over the years, have become fragile, scarred and hard to find. The more we try to access, the more the problem compounds, in the wrong direction.
Admitting defeat, we accept the approach isn’t working.
But we are almost out of options.
A PICC line - Peripherally-Inserted-Central-Catheter - is a thicker IV line inserted under ultrasound guidance through a deeper vein in the upper arm and fed into the large central veins near the heart. This type of line can help avoid the pain of frequent unsuccessful IV attempts as they are generally successful on the first try. While they carry a higher risk of severe infection due to their central placement, PICC lines tend to withstand longer-term use because they reside in more substantial, robust veins.
Doctor: “Are you happy for us to try a PICC line?”
In my head: “What would you tomorrow want you today to do?”
Say Yes!
It worked.
‘Tomorrow Me’
I now look back on the - ‘somewhat trying’, shall we say - day prior.
Piper’s Angles Foundation have a great saying: “Be Bold in the Face of Fear”.
Gurwinder Bhogal puts it this way:
“Somewhere in the future, your older self is enviously watching you through memories. Whether it’s with regret or nostalgia depends on what you do now.”
Weighing up the day; I chose positivity, said “Yes”, and took action.
I balanced momentary fears by looking at them through a lens of the future.
And as I sit here writing this piece from my hospital bed - eating a rather underwhelming fish and chips dinner, staring at a fake wallpapered view of the New York City skyline - I feel no regret or defeat.
Instead, I sit with pride, grateful for a simple tool that took me out of the moment and allowed me to think with my future self in mind…
“What would you tomorrow want you today to do?”
Thanks for reading.
Long live the glorious NHS.
Marc 💛 xx