I've had a good couple of weeks since I last posted.
Just living my life
Just as I had hoped, I'm enjoying having a "normal" April and am doing some fun things. I went to a women's retreat (which I helped organize) with 49 other women from my church this past weekend, and it was inspiring and restorative.
It was challenging too, at times, because it involved periods of silence and reflection, times when I couldn't distract myself from the range of feelings I'm having about the approaching surgery and whatever else is down the road. But experiencing those feelings was good for me and they were transitory. They didn't grip me in a choke hold of panic (that was February, and a lot of March).
B. and I are going away for the weekend on Friday, just us, which will be great. I can't remember the last time we did that. Thank you Mom, for making this possible!
I've seen some friends and have more of that planned in the next couple of weeks. I'm back at the gym regularly. I'm loving the sun, which has been out more and more. I'm wasting time playing a game on the computer which I've never done before, but oh well, why not. My client load is pretty light.
Incredible support
I met with a friend of a friend last week who had breast cancer several years ago and was just really inspiring to talk with. I'm guessing that our paths may not be very different. I think she's super cool, and she had a lot of great tips and resources to share.
Meeting her gave me more of an insider's view of what surgery and treatment could be like for me. I feel anxious yet also extremely supported. There is an incredible amount of information and support for women who are going through breast cancer. I think the main challenge will be discovering the right kind of support at the right time. But I don't think it's going to be hard.
Telling more people
Now that surgery is two weeks away, I'm telling more people about it. I still don't have any grand plan about whom to tell, when, how or why. To be honest, it's lousy news to deliver and I always feel like I stumble over it. I tend to decide in the moment whether it feels like a good thing to say and a good time to say it. I know it places a burden on the receiver of such information and can trigger memories, emotion, and projections of all kinds.
I also know there are people out there who even though they know they can't catch cancer from someone else, still shrink away from it. That makes me sad (although I haven't experienced feeling "shrunk from" yet.)
It's super strange to walk around (in my neighborhood, C.'s school, our church) and not know who knows and who doesn't. Because some people are spreading the word (which is fine) to people who aren't going to walk up to me and talk about it, either because they don't know me well, they don't want to talk about it or they don't want to bring something up that maybe I don't want to talk about. I understand all of this, yet it's also strange.
I don't like to stand out (unless it's for something trivial, like having the best chocolate chip cookies in town - which I don't!), and I don't particularly like knowing I'm being discussed, and of course having cancer involves both of those things to some degree.
Cancer is just a really crappy word
I was talking with B. the other day about the words that are used to describe people with cancer and the process of having cancer and trying to decide if any of them worked for me. Many of them do not.
For example, just take the word cancer. Ugh. Isn't it horrible? Such a dark invasion. Grasping tentacles. Not good.
I suppose that after a while hearing the word cancer won't give me a stab of adrenaline and dread, but I'm not there yet.
And here are some other words and phrases that are pretty charged and depressing:
- Disease
- Being "sick" with cancer
- Battling cancer
- Cancer patient
Identity
And maybe that's what I've been able to work through a bit here during April, the idea that having breast cancer is part of what's going on for me but isn't my entire life. In January, February and March it was pretty much all-consuming. The shock of it and the uncertainty just hoarded an enormous percentage of my mental and emotional energy.
Of course I could be in that space again this summer, but for now, I'm able to switch my focus between all the different areas of my life much more nimbly. And this feels good.
Now when I'm at a medical appointment I sometimes say to myself, "Shit! I'm a fucking cancer patient! No goddamn way!" I mean, it's still surreal. Before January, I was at the doctor infrequently and had the most boring medical history ever. I was your basic healthy 44 year-old who always checked "no" in all of those boxes on the medical history forms. Seasonal allergies was about as exciting as it got. Even my pregnancies and deliveries were medically basic and boring.
In fact, I still think of myself as healthy, it's just that now I'm temporarily housing these pesky cells that need to get outta here. I really don't think of myself as sick or diseased.
Maybe that means I'm in Denial Town, but it works for me. I'm still going to face this head-on - I'm certainly taking it plenty seriously - so I think it's OK to continue thinking of myself as a healthy person.
Help from The Village
B. and I have had many people ask how they can help us out after my surgery. Thank you so much!
My dear friend and sister-in-law S., (all three sisters-in-law are S., so this is the S. who's married to B's middle brother) has kindly offered to organize some dinner drop-offs. So if you live in our city you'll be hearing more about this on this blog and possibly in your email inbox.
In the meantime, thank you again for keeping in touch with emails, cards, etc. I love hearing from you.
I feel very lucky, supported, and strong.
Thanks for the link to this blog Heather...lovely writing. Count me in on the dinner donations if you will.
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