No Dress Rehearsal
- Tanya Keough
- Oct 25, 2017
- 3 min read

Perhaps watching a heart wrenching interview between Gord Downie and Peter Mansbridge, not long before the frontman's death, led me to get back into writing again. It isn't that I haven't had anything to say these past couple of months, I think its quite the opposite; I have had too much to say, too many thoughts in my head, leading me to stop writing completely. It has been a tough couple of weeks for me mentally, writing naturally came to my mind when I tried to think of a remedy to brighten my spirits.
Watching Gord Downie throughout his journey, like so many others, raised a lot of emotions for me. He maintained his passion to carry on performing until he no longer could, he fulfilled a legacy project that meant the world to him and he maintained a public profile. He showed us what courage and determination truly mean, when setting your mind to conquer a goal - let alone tour an entire country at that, following a brain tumour diagnosis.
Despite being watched and supported by many, I'm certain he battled through so much alone, like all of us living with a terminal illness. I don't mean alone in the sense of isolation, without anyone to love and support him. I think of him feeling alone regarding the impossibility for others to truly empathize or understand what he endured every day. How could we?
There were a few things in that interview (maybe more than a few) that brought me to tears. He was asked "What scares you?" I know that is a question many of us face, cancer or not and often ponder. Gord replied that he wanted his kids to be good, to be safe. He said he didn't want to die, his ten year old son would be left in the world without him and I couldn't agree more. My biggest fear, which I have said in previous interviews, in having a cancer diagnosis, is leaving those behind whom I love so very much. I cant stand the thought. I know that whatever is ahead, I can face and I can fight. My fear is in knowing that the ones I love around me will suffer as well. I never want anyone else to suffer.
Going back to when the interview started, Gord was asked "How are you doing?" by Peter. I cringed a little bit, wondering what he could possible say in response. I couldn't have imagined a more honest and perfect response "I'm doing good....'cause I am. Everything sort of seems to make sense." You know, as much as I wonder how this whole cancer process has happened to my body, one of the other sentiments I've echoed is that this is my path, my journey, this is what is meant for me. He went on to say he was learning how to do 'this', I think he meant actually deal with "this" - having cancer and all that this encapsulates and for me, this couldn't have hit me harder.
Every single day, I am learning how to do 'this'. Every day. Whether it is seeing patients and hearing their struggles, wanting to tell them I really understand how they feel - to not being allowed to run marathons anymore, I'm learning what 'this' means in every facet of my life. Do you know what I mean? We simply can't prepare for everything, nor can we predict the strength that lies within, its pretty incredible really. "No dress rehearsal, this is our life." - Thank you Gord Downie.
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