My life is brought to you by the number 3. I went down a small internet research rabbit hole about the catastrophe coming in threes, mostly having to do with the trinity or confirmation bias or base 10 or (my favorite) the limited complexities of our brains.
I found out I had stage 3 breast cancer right after I turned 33 after I went in for an appointment on Yawkey 9 (divisible by 3). The assistant tried to put us in two other rooms that were unsatisfactory for lights or cleanliness before settling on the third room. There were three of us at the appointment.
I start chemo on 9/9, which is 3 squared TWICE! Also my boyfriend’s birthday. I am delaying birthdays this year. Or celebrating several times until I am satisfied with it.
I guess I’m trying to find meaning where there is none, and this has nothing to do with the trinity or triangles or gimel. It felt very weird the day I found out about stage 3. It sort of feels like… people say that when they are on some of those psychotropic drugs, you have a feeling of expanded consciousness, like you have this insight into the meaning of the universe and the world around you. I’ve had that same thing, except that it is with importance. Everything and everyone seems very important and meaningful. I want to know the names of the nurses and assistants because it seems so critical. I’m sure google can tell me why, in times of stress, we search for meaning in the mundane.