As I begin this blog, I’m finishing up what will hopefully be my last round of radiation to eradicate the final vestiges of cancer in this vessel of mine that held so many ugly secrets. We’re talking years of feeling like crap, with no clear explanation. Now I can hopefully put my life back on track and move forward. Endings and beginnings. And ugly secrets.
I don’t believe in negativity. But I do believe in being honest and up front. Thus this earnest discussion about being a big time survivor and what it does and doesn’t mean.
Stage IV lung cancer. I don’t look at statistics anymore, but they’re damn grim. I know that from obsessing over them at the beginning of my crazy journey, back when I was destined to die. Now, with CURE being mentioned more and more and EXCELLENT OUTCOME floating hypnotically around like a sweet drug, I can reflect on other things in between high-fiving myself for getting through this, and looking toward a more certain future. I hardly accomplished this on my own, and contrary to the popular beliefs of some, I appreciate everything that has been done for me. But I also had a lot of things happen to me that could and should have been avoided, events that only served to pile on more hurt, and yet more worries to weigh heavily on my mind, which was (and is) already ready to burst. Makes a girl skeptical, to say the least.
Herein lies a sad truth: Not everyone who gets cancer or other life-threatening illnesses are surrounded by supportive loved ones. If you are, consider yourself very lucky. Some of us have to make the most of the ones who are, and extract the rest of our healing from the kindness of strangers. Here’s the side of the survivor story that you may not hear about amid all the parades and fireworks.
Before cancer, I always wondered how my detractors would treat me if something truly terrible happened to me. Now, I know.
If They Resented You Then…
…they aren’t going to stop resenting you just because your life is going down the tubes. I had a great life before cancer. I still have a great life. In between, not so hot. People who don’t like that you made a better life than them might just be happy that you’re struggling. Maybe they’ll want to see you struggle more. And they’ll pile on the negativity. A few individuals in my life have been putting the screws to me all along. Just remember that these people are sicker than you will ever be.
Short Memories Never Cease
Listen folks, cancer ain’t fun. Needles and scans and treatment ain’t my idea of a party. Yeah, it’s gotten the best of me at times. Admittedly, I have not always been nice. But I’ll also note that the past year of my life has chipped the BS tolerance meter down to just about nothing. I never had much of a filter, but now, even thinner. So if you start slinging crap at me, you’re going to get it back tenfold. I’ll hand your microscope back to you on a silver platter. And herein lies the next discovery: People will only remember what you do to them, not what they’ve done to you to warrant your feelings. Best to just let them wallow in self-pity and keep doing your thing.
Name calling, back stabbing, changing sides, being unable to apologize and move on, spreading my delicate medical business all over town. All things I’ve had to deal with on top of cancer. Imagine being called first grade names by someone who is supposed to understand and love you. Imagine that same someone teaming up with your other detractors as soon as things don’t go her way, even though she was there when your life was on the line. It happens, folks. I question my choices now as much as I question theirs.
You Change, They Don’t
Cancer absolutely changes the lives of many people, not just the patient. Loved ones have to find their own ways to deal with your illness and do their own form of grieving and coping. Yet the reality is that this disease and others like it is worst for the person who really has it. The hardest thing for me was the “not knowing” if I would even be alive to see the calendar flip to 2020. There is no feeling like this that I can even compare to the reality that your life is going to come to an end prematurely, and you may not have any choice in the matter. Add to that the endless hours of needle biopsies, lying in MRI tubes with ear-shattering noises echoing in your ears, trips back and forth to specialist after specialist. Meanwhile, those whose lives don’t change at all will increase your discomfort while continuing to disrespect the dramatic changes that you are going through, alterations that they would never be able to deal with.
Downplaying Your Hurts
Back before my treatment options and prognosis changed dramatically, I had a port surgically placed and was faced with chemo. This was the first time that my skin had ever been cut. The port was a degradation for me, and now the scar left after having it removed isn’t much better, though my niece recently suggested to me that I consider it a “battle scar” and wear it proudly, so I’m kind of liking that idea. The real kicker about the port was that I didn’t need it, nor did I need chemo. But when I was in the heat of all this, I was the only one who thought the cutting of my skin and the loss of my hair was a big deal. (Yet, no one agreed to go bald with me, so there you have it!) Sure, a lot of cancer patients require chemo and make it through, so big whoop, right? Right! Until it’s you. Then see how great it looks. Lesson: don’t ever simplify the hurt of others.
Empty People Won’t Suddenly Fill For You
Individuals with nothing inside of them exist. Cold, uncaring, unloving, narcissistic blame factories that won’t just suddenly start acting human for you. It is beyond their capabilities. Enough said.
Telling, Not Asking
In the world of professional writing, the one banging away at the keyboard letters always has this line in mind: show, don’t tell. In the world of life-threatening illness, this has to be changed to ask, don’t tell. Since I was diagnosed with cancer, I’ve had too many people making assumptions about the way I feel. Sometimes, the way I look is presumed to be the way I feel. I look good so I must feel good! I look tired, therefore I must feel like crap! I must be dreadfully unhappy because of cancer! (True enough, though at least in my case it’s better to say that the joy of life was suppressed. That golden gate has been reopened. Those who have never found true joy in life would not understand this.) I can think of many adjectives used to describe me that were totally false, when all the speaker had to do was ask and give me time to speak to get the real answer.
Special Note: my medical team is not guilty of this. They get it.
A Word of Hope
If this is you like it’s me, find the right folks and stick with them. The positive ones. The hopeful ones. The ones on social media that you’ve never met but are generous enough to try and lift you up rather than crush you even further than you’re already crushed. The ones you don’t see everyday, but who can give you a lift with a friendly text or call or email. Thank goodness I have a lot of those.
And just fight your best fight. Strength, courage, integrity, the will to live that no one can take away.
Some will resent you for it. Let them.