25 January 2012

I Do It My Way

I know I have touched on this on an earlier blog, but since I do not routinely re-read my posts, and my brain is hardly the steel trap it used to be before chemo, (and babies, for that matter,) I am just going to have to issue a blanket disclaimer about repeating myself.  Sometimes I think the same thought and need to get it out of my head.  Feel free to skip this post if you've already heard it.

I am not a very private person.  Sure, there are some parts of my life I do not discuss with the general public, some parts reserved for family only, or mama friends, or just my husband.  Some things I only talk to my therapist about, but for the most part, I don't mind sharing things that others would not.  That's just how I am.

As I get older, I care less and less about others' judgments.  It's one thing to be mindful of my behavior.  I strive to be polite and kind, and I do care that others see that.  But what other people think of my opinions and tastes is a different story.

I know many people who have suffered quietly, alone, with cancer.  That's how they were comfortable dealing with it.  I'm more comfortable knowing that people know my situation, are not afraid that they will say something that might upset me, and clearly know where I stand on things.  This position has made it easier to ask for help when I need it, has made it easier for people to offer help and has generally made conversation much more pleasant and much less a mine-field.  Yes, sometimes I don't want to talk about it, and when that happens, I let people know, too.  (In fact, I don't really like talking at all, especially on the phone.  I'd rather write, or if I'm up to it, talk in person if I must.  And although my posts are becoming less frequent, I still let the world know what is going on with me.)

I don't find my position on this to be remarkable, although several folks have commented about the way I address this illness in such an open manner.  Frankly, I think suffering though this alone, in secret, or otherwise unacknowledged would be infinitely harder.  (And for those of you who choose this way, kudos.)

I have found that I don't have nearly the piss and vinegar in me that I did when I started.  Yes, I'm tired, but more than that, I'm humbled.  I didn't really get sick from cancer, I was sidelined by the treatments for it, and while it was my choice to be very aggressive with that treatment, my discomfort pales in comparison to the individuals who are actually sickened and weakened by cancer, then have to undergo treatment.  I am thankful I had no nausea - me(!) who gets motion sickness if I read on a plane, or if I sit on a swing.  I spent most of my childhood feeling like I'm going to throw up and most of my adulthood doing the driving so I didn't have to.  But I was spared that during chemo.

Having said that, I am also humbled by the ravages of the treatments themselves.  I've never felt so out-of-shape.  Four months off (laying in bed,) really does a number on you.  I am blown away by how much I CAN'T do.

I am also humbled by the remarkable support I received while undergoing the worst of my treatment.  I feel incredibly blessed to have so many caring family and friends, and so much of a community.

So my posts are not nearly as emphatic as they were when I began this journey - not as loud, not as frequent.  But I'm hoping I will continue to use this as a way to sort out my thoughts on where I am.