chameleons and acceptance
my experience in sharing the news with people and my thoughts on acceptance.
At first, it was difficult to tell people what was ahead of me. Not knowing what others experience with cancer initially felt overwhelming. I felt there was a responsibility to ensure I could comfort the person I was sharing the news with. I put myself in the receiver's shoes. I thought about possible experiences they have had with cancer, death and illness. I wanted to make sure that I was brief, and informative of what was next and how I was feeling. I also thought and read about how people respond to news like this, it is unfamiliar territory for some and their response can be reflective of not knowing what to say.
UPDATE: A few people have reached out about the above paragraph. Do not worry, the above and below paragraphs aren’t about a specific interaction. When going through this thought process, it wasn’t about feeling bothered or annoyed about how people responded, sharing news like this got much easier with each person I told. I was worried that I might remind them of a loved one who went through a similar thing and I felt a responsibility to make sure they were okay, I didn’t like the idea that I might cause someone to be upset. At the very beginning, I wasn’t sure if I had much in the tank to comfort others when I felt like being comforted. It didn’t feel like a burden though, it was more of a feeling within me to make sure the other person was okay.
It became normal to talk about it, the hours of appointments with oncologists helped me develop an ‘elevator pitch’ of sorts. I no longer felt the pressure of how I told people. It is a reality of life and whoever is receiving the news will manage. In some instances, there is noticeable discomfort and that is okay. I might have overthought all of this, people have been kind and acknowledged what is happening, so maybe it was more about myself and part of my journey toward acceptance.
I see no other path than the one of acceptance. This naturally has come and gone in waves, just because I am okay one day doesn’t mean I won’t be the next. This works vice-versa as well, just because I wasn’t okay for a few hours doesn’t mean that feeling is going to last forever. I am reassured that everything is temporary.
I have had these brief moments where it feels like I am in an alternate reality. I am with a friend, hanging out with my dog or ordering something out at a restaurant. Life feels normal in these moments. I am reminded of what I am going through by the prickly feeling of my shaved head that now comes with a slight breeze or the remaining ‘whiskers’ on my head falling out when I brush my hand on my head, the feeling of the porta-cath implant in my chest and the fatigue rolling through in the mid-afternoon. I promise this isn’t a depressive or head-in-my-hands daunting switch, it’s more of a ‘’Oh I have some bills I still need to pay, I forgot about them’ kind of feeling that there is some work ahead to pay those bills…I usually laugh it off and say to myself “Well let’s make the most of what could be a bad situation and live life and get on with it”.
Acceptance has helped me be robust for myself, my parents, my sister, my friends and my girlfriend Lynn. I mentioned in Diagnosis, “There is no winning or losing, only existing and experiencing everything as it comes”. I am taking the approach that I do not have control of what is happening in my body but I have control of what is happening in my mind.
Other things I have said to myself to accept what is happening:
I have no choice but to accept what lies ahead. It is going to be harder if you reject the idea that this is happening. You can’t spend the rest of your life shaking on the ledge. You need to embrace it. You also have a choice to wake up, smile, pat your dog and be present.
Any physical pain is only temporary “no feeling is final”.
My prognosis is 12 months, make moments count and be heartfelt….also this is just a prognosis, it doesn’t mean anything concrete. Let’s laugh it off and be here in 24 months then 36 months etc. There is plenty of life to be lived. I am going to be the outlier in the data and beat this thing.
While in chemo: You will get through this temporary pain, get through the next second, now get through the next minute, now the next hour and next day. In 1 day, 2 days, 3 days, 4 days….8 days….you might not even remember what you are experiencing right now.
I said the above lines to myself as a way to ground myself in feeling present. There have been plenty of times when we have felt unwell and it soon passes becoming a distant or forgotten memory, this will be the same.
There are 3 pages worth of symptoms from the types of chemo I am on (doxorubicin and ifos), one of them includes neurotoxic side effects which can lead to brain damage or death, huh, who would have thought? There’s a small slight chance of this happening, but it is very treatable, well death isn’t treatable but the lead-up to it is I guess.
A few weeks back while I was having this drug pump through me, I was laughing and thinking to myself “What even is this life that I am living right now, ah well”. Maybe laughter is the best medicine.
What is the lead-up? Nurses will come in and check in on your general awareness and mental state. They will ask you questions about yourself (name, date of birth, what day of the week it is and who the prime minister is). They are easy questions designed for nurses to check in on your cognitive awareness. Despite this, I still have the jokester voice in my head telling me to mess around and make the answers up. I don’t know how well this would go down.
I feel like a science experiment. Whether or not this experiment is successful, I feel grateful and privileged that my experience will help people in the future. Your life will help others.
I feel like a science experiment due to the uncertainty as to whether the treatment will work.
I have had an overflowing amount of love and kindness from all sorts of people in my life. Family, friends, old friends, colleagues, doctors and nurses. I have found that the helpful people are like chameleons. Chameleons adapt to what they are hearing or how they see me, assumptions aren’t made, questions are asked, they let me be as I am in the moment, they listen, they acknowledge and accept the now. I am lucky to be surrounded by many chameleons and I am grateful for this.
Moments I share in my own company or with people can be happy, funny, sad, angry, painful, reflective and everything in between. The moments that have been special for me have been spontaneous hangs with friends, catch-ups on the phone and warm moments of reflection with my family. Each time I have told my girlfriend Lynn “I love you”, it has felt like I couldn’t say it with any more heart.
I am trying to be the best friend, son, brother, partner, colleague, cousin, nephew, stranger and patient right now as well. Trying to be a chameleon back to these people.
Thank you for being patient, persistent, checking in, listening and being there for me when I needed you.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and experiences with us...it's a gift. Our thoughts are with you. Much love from Gayl & Chris