I'm okay, but now where's the car?

I am currently in South Africa seeing doctors to find out more about the lung condition I developed over in Madagascar.

On Monday morning I borrowed my dad’s car and drove through to see my first-choice doctor, who poked, prodded, asked about the history of my condition and then sent me out to the hospital down the road to get x-rays taken of my chest and sinuses. I walked out to an empty parking lot. I looked right, looked left and looked right again, shrugged my shoulders and realised that car thieves in my native land had upped their game – the car was gone.

Reporting the loss to the police was, well, amusing. Firstly, my life bears a remarkable resemblance to Days of our Lives or some similar soapie. It was quite something explaining that I was driving my dad’s car, which actually belonged to my mom, who used to be married to the doctor outside of whose practice I was parked at the time of the theft… Then I pointed out that I work in Madagascar at “Vision Valley School”, A-n-d-r-a-n-o-m-e-n-a,  A-n-t-a-n-a-n-a-r-i-v-o. Try getting a policewoman who has been on duty for two days to spell that correctly. In the final reading of the report it had become “Virgin Valley School” and the town name had lost several syllables. But the police were very helpful. At least it wasn’t a cellphone that had been stolen, because that seemed like a much more harrowing offence to report.

But back to the doctor part of the story. My sister very kindly picked me up from the hospital and took me back to my ex-stepfather, who examined the x-rays, carried out a few other tests and (jokingly) told me that I should live at least another month. My sister, who had at this stage wandered into the consulting room uninvited, suggested I start a “bucket list” of things I’d do in my last month, like movies I’d love to watch. I said that Facebook would be the perfect place to post it, but she was horrified at the thought because of all the people I would have in tears as a result….

It turns out many of my friends are just not that sensitive, however… Here are some of their reactions to the “What if I only had a month to live?”:

• Would it be utterly insensitive and self-absorbed if I asked you to write a blog?
• I would cry then ask to inherit that Nikon of yours.
• We could go on holiday for a month. Who’s paying?
• I’m not surprised, quite honestly. At least we have an excuse for a party.
• Can I have your camera and laptop? It’s for a missionary.
• I’d act sad for a minute, then take leave and go on an adventure with you.
• Great, we can fit in one last barbecue!
• Good, that’s enough time for you to come and see us. We do love you. Sometimes.
• What? At least another month!?! And at most? Where will you do this living? 
• I know what I wouldn't have said: "Can I have your house and millions?"

Many of my friends were too shocked at the possibility to comment and told me so when they saw me…

What would I do if I only had a month? I’d definitely spend it with friends and family… I’d go out to restaurants more… I’d probably try to laugh as much as possible.

What would you do?