The fluorescent light keeps flickering on the floor, and you start to wonder why this is taking so long. This was a routine visit, and you’ve got lunch plans coming up soon. Suddenly, the door cracks open, and the look on her face tells you this might not be so routine. “Great,” you think, “She’s probably going to give me another pill or scare me into exercising again.” She sits down, crosses her legs, and positions her tablet over her white coat and begins to speak: “I’m so sorry to have to give you this news. Your results from the tests we ran came back this morning, and it’s not good. It’s very serious, and since we’ve always been open with each other, I’m going to be upfront. You have a 33% chance of surviving this.” She keeps talking, something about treatments and lifestyle changes, but your mind wanders off, in complete shock.
What’s your next move? Who do you call? Who do you want with you in that room? Who isn’t invited to that room? Who’s your support? And what lengths are you going to go to in order to outlive this prognosis and have more time with them? Is there any hurdle you won’t jump over, anything you won’t try? It’s fight or flight, and I imagine you are geared up to fight. The odds are not in your favor, but you are willing to give it a hell of a shot and try.
Did you know that second marriages have a fail rate of 67%?
That’s a 33% chance of survival.
I haven’t been in a doctor’s office and lived out the above scenario, but I’m wrestling with these odds as I’m currently planning to get married again. I wonder what changes we all would make in our lives if we thought about this prognosis more often. How would we live and interact differently if we considered this reality? First time marriages have a 50/50 shot at survival; so it’s not great from the beginning, but second marriages drop drastically to 33%.
Thirty-three percent.
It’s a staggering number, and while my fiancé and I aren’t pessimists who study and stare at failure rates on the daily, we are realists who want to be prepared for what’s ahead, what will be challenging, and how we can combat it. For us personally, the realization of this percentage changes who gets to come into the doctor’s office with us, who gets to sit with us at treatments, who gets to see our struggles and sickness, who we let see our fears, where we go and when we go there, who we share victories with, and where we spend our time. Some people “get it,” and some people don’t. But we won’t apologize for protecting our relationship when we’re in this life or death scenario. With these odds, if you aren’t for us, you’re against us. There’s simply too much at stake, too much to lose, and too much to carry to be keeping up appearances and checking off boxes just to keep other people happy.
The liberating piece of this mindset is that we get to determine what help and support look like to us. Some people may claim to be helping, but in reality, they might just be causing us more problems. If we’ve requested peace and quiet and solitude, and someone ignores that and decides to bring over chicken noodle soup, then that person is not being helpful or supportive, no matter how “helpful” it might appear from the outside.
We are building our family and a life together against odds that hardly any person would put money on, and we need all the love and support we can possibly get. This is also a time for celebration and joy; a new family is about to be created, and we genuinely, wholeheartedly love each other. This should be cherished and positioned proudly. A lot of people have seen us get married before, but they’ve never seen us marry each other. We are ecstatic and anxiously anticipating the day we become husband and wife, and we have little tolerance for anyone attempting to take that away from us. We’ve waited a long time, not only for this day, but for this relationship where we can truly be ourselves, trust in each other, and be happy. We deserve as much, if not more, celebration and support. We are fighting an uphill battle and have many things working against us; we can’t make space for questioning, criticism, or lukewarm affection. There’s too much at stake. So we choose to protect our circle and our relationship from anyone who makes the 33% any harder than it already is.
While this is very specifically written regarding second marriages, it can be applied to many different situations where it feels like the odds may be against you: death/grief, divorce, job loss, transitions, separations, substance abuse, dealing with rebellious teenagers, life changes, imprisonment, illness or injury, cutoff from adult children, pregnancy, financial strain, and countless others. The odds can be against anyone, but we are all responsible for finding ways to navigate them well. First, figure out who’s in your circle. Who do you want with you when crisis hits? Who supports you? Who has the hard conversations and loves you despite all the things? Do you have someone like that in your corner? If you do, cherish them and utilize them. If you don’t, find a good therapist. I’d be thrilled to be the person who helps you tackle what’s ahead and give you a soft place to land. Second, figure out what help and support look like to you, make that known, and protect your circle from anyone who doesn’t uphold it. Finally, take care of you and yours and enjoy the moments of joy when you can. It’s not all about survival. You need to rest in the joy as well.
So. What’s my next move? I’ve got my circle around me, protected and intact. There isn’t any hurdle I won’t jump over, nothing I won’t try. It’s fight or flight, and I am geared up to fight. The odds are not in my favor, but I am willing to give it a hell of a shot and try.
And we aren’t just going to survive.
We are going to live.