Cancer for Dummies!
I love how there are all those books “For Dummies”…I have “Computers for Dummies” gathering dust on a shelf out in the solarium, nowhere near my computer. I have “Grant Writing for Dummies”, and I don’t know why! I have assorted travel books for dummies, too, though some of my stunts during travel far surpassed what the dummie writers could ever dream of. I even have “Italian for Dummies”, which, by the way, I learned more from, and quicker, than I did with the Rosetta Stone course!
Perhaps, one day, I shall write “Cancer for Dummies”, but first I’ll need to learn how to go through this graciously and with class. I apologize to you, my readers, for the most recent blog. It was morbid, dark and dreary. I scared a few people.
I shouldn’t complain! Really, I’m blessed with an excellent prognosis. But sometimes I’m like an old car. There’s just going to be a certain amount of exhaust fumes as I go from point A to B on this journey. But I realize that my exhaust fumes are toxic to my loved ones! I’m sorry!
I’m sorry to be such a weenie about my discomfort. I had my infusion last Friday, and there was the gal who’s on the same schedule and treatment plan as I am. She has to have radiation after all this, AND more surgery. What am I whining about? I don’t need radiation. And there’s a lovely young woman who I’ve seen more than a few times there in the outpatient servisces ward. I think she’s a few years younger than me, and I know she has children. Each time I see her, she looks a little more tired and sick. “Is she going to be OK?” I asked my nurse.
Her answer: “I hope so.”
Then, when I was up walking around, visiting with other patients because my legs were just so tired of sitting still, I saw a woman come in with a little girl, about 2 years old. Hm. That must be hard to have a treatment and not have childcare. Later, I saw the lady sitting with the child in her arms, and the nurse was setting up an IV for the littel girl! Now my problems see very small. I smiled and waved, and so did that baby. So did the mommy.
OK, so maybe I won’t write “Cancer for Dummies”. I’ll just write “Whinging for Dummies”!
I figure, in my chemo/marathon analogy, this is mile 20.5 or so. Or in a speed workout on the track, early season, I’d be doing 8 laps fast on a track. Well, that would be lap 6, which is when I’m spewing exhaust, so to speak. As I run, I think to myself, I’m not sure why I decided to do this today, I’m doubting my sanity, and feeling too hot, too tired, and rather negative, and no matter how hard I run, it’sn good enough. I hate lap 6! “Go faster, you ding-dang friggin’ cow!”
Somehow, I come through that lap. (Speedwork is always harder for me than running a marathon at goal pace.) Somehow, at lap 7 and 8, I streamline my thoughts and my attitude, and my body follows. Those turn out to be heroically faster! Even though it’s the end of the workout! But maybe we have to feel down before we feel up, and it’s always darkest before the dawn.
Maybe lap 7 and 8 of chemo will be easier, just because I know I’m going to cross that finnish line. No turning back now! (Or else everyone will know I’m a wimp!)
People have asked why I use the analogy of running with chemo instead of singing, which is the other passion in my life. Well, running is harder! Some days, I just don’t want to do it. Whereas every day is a good day to sing! Sometimes I have to force myself to run, and though I alwasy enjoy it once I et out there, the challenge is similar to chemo in that it won’t happen spontaeoulsy, whereas singing just happens.
For now, I’m running with cement legs, though, as usual, on lap 6. Mile 20 has a bit of cement in the legs, too. I’m spewing exhaust, and hoping that I’m neither too noxious nor too OBnoxious!
I’m overly emotional. I was watching the news the other night, and saw a clip about Haiti, post eathquake. I was blubbering into my green tea about the hardship and injustices of the world. After I was done being sad, I thought about how I can’t wait to get through my little hardship, so I can maybe do something to help others overcome theirs! I have no idea yet which direction that goal will take.
I’ve always been a reasonably nice and affable person, prior to cancer. But I always lived to gain my own glory and dreams. I always figured helping others would be something I’d do after I’d done everything I’d ever wanted to do for ME!
But now, even though I’m not sure where to start, once I’m recovered, I guess all I have to do is look around. There are plenty of good causes! It is my understanding that most cncer survivors do just that…they open foundations, they volunteer, they find a new way of living that benefits others and thus benefits themselves. Maybe these thoughts wil give me something positive to think about rather than being so negative.
(Hello! Do I sense another mile whistling by? Am I closer to done with this chemo?! Attitude!!!)
Though I’m really tired of drinking green tea and so much water that I feel like I’m going to float away, and I’m sick of eating shiitake mushrooms and kale and will never again joyfully devour a family-sized pack of skittles at the movies, ever again, I’m just going to have to shut up and keep going.
I do know that I have too much living to do! It doesn’t make sense to poison my body with skittles and the likes, when they don’t taste that good anyway, and veggies and lentils and rice will make me healthy! Likewise, negative thoughts, while some whould say it’s good to vent, and to “own your feelings” doesn’t make me feel better, and hurts the rest of my team.
All I can say, for now, is “ROAAAR!!!”
April 27th, 2010 at 8:44 pm
Ai-YAAAA!
You’ve got this, Deanne!
By the way, just yesterday I saw the funniest “For Dummies” book ever.
Word Searches for Dummies!! Are they kidding? How in the world did they ever come up with the umpteen pages needed to tell people how to do word searches? I cracked up in the book store when I saw that.
Cancer for Dummies sounds like a very good idea, though. Because if I were facing something as complex and daunting as a major fight with cancer I’d want to be as easily armed with information as possible. And, when you write it, definitely include the whinging so that real people will know it’s part and parcel of this particular fight. It could even be counted as a necessary weapon. Optimism is a great weapon, too, when it’s available, but when the emotions are crummy and need to come out, whinging might be what works. Kind of like a cancer-fighting kiai, keeping it real, but ready to dissipate as soon as expressed. Maybe . You, the author, can certainly make that call.