Post #9 - Gonna Change My Way of Thinking
I knew a perception of mine was forever changed the very first day I was at MSK to meet Dr. S and get my first CT scans. It was the very kind-eyed, young man in radiology, that led me through the maze of hallways, that triggered this feeling in me. He sat me in a nurse’s exam room and handed me a warm blanket, and after he gave me his well-wishes, that’s when I saw it in his eyes - pity.
I’ve always thought of myself as a fairly strong, independent woman - a fighter. I accept what life throws my way, and I try to make the best of it. When life knocks me down, I try and stand up every single time - even when I’m exhausted and don’t think I can stand on my own two feet. I feel fire and passion inside of me when challenged and take it head on. As soon as I saw the look in his eyes, I felt different. I can’t remember a time when I saw someone look at me with pity. If it ever happened, I didn’t know it did.
A repercussion I didn’t see coming, with my diagnosis and survivorship, was handling everyone else’s reaction to my illness. I had seen others go through this, even in my own family, but I never knew what it would feel like. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’m so very lucky my closest people didn’t freak out or treat me any differently. There was one very funny moment with my mother, where she yelled at me, “Put that down! You’re sick!”, as I lifted gallons of water for her at the grocery store. Not the greatest thing to announce during a global pandemic, but it made me laugh hysterically. And, then it kind of hit me, I had been sick. Because I had no symptoms, and I had no after-treatment, I just had been thinking of my cancer as an operation, and *poof*, it was gone! It has taken me some time for my brain to catch up on the fact that I had been very sick.
At first, I didn’t want to tell too many people about my cancer. Obviously my family and Rich’s family were the first I told. Then, we had to open the circle a bit. Everyone’s reaction was a little different - many of them were surprising to me. I know I have been told the news of a friend or family member being sick, and I can clearly remember my reaction. It is always in the vein of “How are you? What can I do to help? How are you feeling / coping / handling the news?” I guess I was expecting the same.
My whole life (or my life with cognitive memory), I know I have struggled with my expectations of others. I’ve always hoped people would react to situations the same way I would….I have learned over many years, I am dead wrong. My expectations are mine - other people do not even know I have placed my hopes on them. That is mine to deal with; however, I do find that some behaviors should just reach, or be over-the-bar, we have set as a society. I have suffered some disappointment around people not reaching out. I also have had some people state that they hope I can move on quickly. Like, they are somehow judging the way I am coping with my illness and survivorship.
There is also a level of embarrassment I have felt around my surgery. Since a foot of my colon had to be removed, I am dealing with some major bowel issues. Now, most people have been very understanding; however, I (like many people) have always been uncomfortable discussing bowel movements. Now, people, I guess, feel like they can just ask me about my bowels because of my surgery. How is this real life? Would people go up to anyone and just ask about their bathroom experiences? I’ve always been a very open book, but, I do have boundaries. I would like to try and keep the dignity I still have - after living through my 20’s and 30’s.
I know reaching out, or knowing what to say, can be super hard. If you haven’t talked to someone in a while; or, you think that there was a falling out; or, you just simply went separate ways - reach out. Say hello. Say anything. I have had my earliest childhood friends, to co-workers, to long lost pals reach out just to say they were thinking of me. It has brought me to tears on so many occasions. The hardest part has been silence. People I thought would reach out and say hi, or check on me - the silence is deafening. I don’t know how to explain it - but, none of the petty stuff matters. All of that shit just doesn’t matter. It’s just shit.
I’m doing my best to change my mindset. I’m trying to embrace my inner-Buddhist and look at people as they’re just doing the best they can. If I can find compassion for myself, I can surely find it for others.