Post #7 - Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right

Since I went through the surgery, and I’m on my way to a full recovery, I fully admit that I border on being an asshole from time-to-time. I’m still building up my stamina and trying to use my endorphins to deal with the cocktail of emotions I deal with on a daily basis. I am so full of gratitude - I have never felt this much in my life. I’ve had family members and friends go through heartbreaking illness and come out on the other side; however, the appreciation of health has never felt like this. So, while I sit with my gratitude, this annoying feeling comes creeping in and lets me know there is going to be a new feeling. Guilt.

This was such an odd combination of feelings. It started while I was still at MSK, it just took me a bit of time to process it all. I believe I’m a very self-aware human and I’m able to call myself an asshole when needed. I also did a lot of searching inward before reaching outside of myself for some possible help.

I really searched for an outlet where I could find like-minded people feeling the pull of these 2 emotions - gratitude vs. guilt. Rich and my family have always been there to listen to me talk, but, I didn’t (and don’t) feel right to keep putting this, and all of my emotions, on them. Luckily, I received an email from MSK letting me know that they offer MANY aftercare support groups and counseling, if I felt like I may need it. This truly spoke to me. Like-minded people, who have been through my situation, that may be able to tell me how they coped? And, then the guilt crept in again. “What do you have to complain about? You didn’t even have chemo or radiation? You’re lucky, why are you feeling badly? You have no right to sit in a group.” These are the thoughts that were swirling in my head that day, and, have continued every single day since.

I’ve also grappled with the feelings of guilt around the healthcare that I received. This blog is not a place for politics, but I do know that our healthcare system is broken. I have amazing benefits thanks to Rich putting me on his insurance while I continue to work for myself. But, I wrestle every day with knowing I am privileged because I was given opportunities that put me in a position to receive world-class care. Why was I worth saving more than anyone else? Why was my life worth giving this care over someone else’s? I don’t cure illness; I don’t save lives; and, I am not going to change the world - yet, I received the best care in the world. Why? I knew I needed to find an outlet for all of these emotions.

I went on to the website and looked at all the group meetings for survivors. I saw all kinds of meetings for all different kinds of cancer. All groups were virtual, so no one would get sick trying to get better. Out of the pages and pages of groups, there was not one for me. They were all very specific to a certain person (age, race, gender, or LGBTQ community) or type of cancer the person is fighting. Not one was for me. I felt a little lost and “not seen”. I know soft tissue sarcoma is very rare, but not one group? I felt deflated.

I then saw part of the website that was more of a peer-to-peer counseling service. This is where MSK will pair you up with someone who has been through something similar, and you chat and talk about it together. I’m open to all kinds of help, so I figured I’d give it a try. A rep called me and let me know that I would be paired up with a woman named Jane and she would be contacting me to set up a date / time to talk. I was so excited and hopeful that I could chat with someone who could relate to the emotions and feelings I was having. I had been told by nurses, doctors, and other survivors that the emotions were “normal” and to be expected; they also said that talking to someone may help.

Jane and I set up a time to chat. Rich ran out to the store while I was making dinner and awaiting her call. She called promptly at the time we set. It felt like the most awkward, yet intimate, first date in the history of first dates. Like, let’s jump right in to our cancer journeys and our most vulnerable moments. Jane explained that she had colon cancer, had a bag for a while, went through chemo and radiation, and is still struggling. While my sympathy was off the charts for her, I couldn’t help but think that this conversation was triggering my guilt. I ended up trying to comfort her and support her. She had been in remission for years and sought out private therapy for her support afterwards, but I felt like she may have more work to do. On the other side, I felt like she was judging my journey as not being as bad. Now, I could be projecting all of this, but it is how I felt. I asked for any coping techniques or other tips she may have for me. She suggested running and maybe tackling the NYC marathon. Now, while I am sure this is helpful to many people, Jane was not speaking my language. I love exercise. I love jogging. I love hiking. Forcing myself to train to run 26.2 miles was in no way going to be my answer. I thanked her for her time and wished her well. I instantly knew I would not call again and that peer counseling was not going to be my solution.

To be honest, I haven’t found one. The closest solution I have is this blog along with friends and family. I also hope time will be kind to me. The amount of support, love and kind words I have received have helped build me back up and given me so much strength. This blog is my journal; people are just reading it now.