My Bi Monthly Cancer Wellness Survey

If someone handed you a clipboard with a survey attached regarding your “wellness” today, how would you respond? Doing my best to circle the closest answer to each inquiry using various rating scales, I hand the one-sided piece of paper sharing all my hopes, dreams, pains, and happiness to one of two nurse practitioners. Neither can truly comprehend the fitness of m6 mind and body by grazing over my confessional. Worse, they seem as uninterested with a quick flick of the wrist it’s tossed on the exam room counter, after it’s removed from the clipboard. I believe I spotted an eye roll of cynicism as I sat watching for an6 sign of interest on their face.

As always I inadvertently misappropriate the ballpoint pen on temporary loan I really don’t need, given my penchant for purchasing an embarrassment of redundant office supplies, to fill in the survey: “YOUR WELLNESS: how well you feel so your cancer center staff could attend better to your needs?”

The Stranger
Immediately an Existential crisis ensues. Such questions provoke an intensely dramatic Shakespearian-Hamletesque- “to be or not to be” soliloquy of the mind, or just plain thought vomit. Hopefully I don’t puke all over the page as I must determine the scale on which my most important stressors exist including appetite and nausea. For instance, rating my ability to think and judging during this particular day a level of satisfaction with my relationships? Seriously I think it’s not cogent at the moment, but I answer evoking my centrist point if view, since going too far right means I’m really angry and headed too far left means I’m going insane with happiness. The middle answer for the question is “sometimes.” Makes sense I suppose and I do not need those prescriptions adjusted.

Also I’m pursued by this paper chasing mind stalker to rate my current pain level. Do you mean right now? This morning when I got up? In general? If they mean at that moment right then or that just passed while I’m filling out this supposedly innocuous survey of my overall well-being? It’s giving me gas and a bit of acid reflux, plus this pen is really crappy for a nice place like Stanford and gives me a hand cramp that won’t let up due to neuropathy. (Note to self, donate nice pens for metastatic patients to lift in my last will and testament.)

What does it all mean?
Now the real kick in the ass – how I rate the meaningfulness of my life on a scale from excellent to poor, my activities in my home, social life, and community rating from completely to not at all. Two specific questions require an essay by Diogenes regarding cynicism and stoicism but there’s no blanks for open form answers. If you’ve read my posts you’re thinking the form might require five pages of addendum to control my verbosity. The questions in question:
My life lacks meaning?
Irritable, anxious, or depressed?
Rated from “never” to “always,” and “sometimes” the middle ground, on this particular day, I circled “sometimes.”

Sometimes my life lacks meaning for reasons such as my usefulness to society in general, to my financial stability, to my husband, to my friends, even to my customers in my Etsy shop – shameless self prhttp://www.yeuxdeux.etsy.com – should you want to do some holiday gift shopping from a very small business that directly supports metastatic breast cancer at the grass-roots level.

The purpose of consciousness might be as simple as love. Therefore we are all here to bring each other joy through love. And I firmly believe love is our purpose. What if, as imperfect as we are, we can achieve a clearness of mind to allow our thoughts about people to fall away, and rather than judge them love them instead? Wow! the joy we could feel if we lived without those thoughts, and the love we truly feel could comfortably be shared even further than inside the doors of our rooms.

Try a little tenderness.
Experiment with the following: show a little love to somebody you don’t particularly like today and see how your whole attitude about them and yourself changes in an instant. Perhaps, you can love yourself a bit more, too. But don’t give them a satisfaction survey when they’ve been loved sufficiently by yours and their agreement, because you’ll lose the squishy warm feeling of human interaction to the marketing puffery even taking place in your personal brand study.

Cynical? Nah.

 

 

Ilene

Female. East coast transplant living in the Bay Area of California. Living with Stage IV breast cancer. Married to the coolest guy in the universe who occasionally suffers from serious depression. Love my stepsons, although I never thought I'd have that thankless job - ever! And my best friend Simon is also my cat. How I have survived with stage IV: treatments including chemo and surgery; palliative oncology; tenacity; a dark sense of humor; support groups; and my newly reinvented career as a vintage and antiques maven. Some days I miss the old me who led a well respected and well paid life as a business strategist in high tech. So much for that. I blog to simply share my experiences and my poetic approach with others who have cancer of any kind or with their care givers and those who love them. If one person at the very least finds a little commonality or a friend out in the ether tor a smile, a common nod about this experience, or even a link to assistance, then I have accomplished a small but extraordinarily meaningful goal. Go team.

2 thoughts on “My Bi Monthly Cancer Wellness Survey

  1. Thank you so much for reading and for your empathy. It’s not easy showing up at the cancer center – it’s always busy there, and I wonder how others fill out their forms. If I could read the responses I wonder how different they’d be from mine, and if I could help anyone else…but we all sit waiting, separated by our disease and our dis-ease.

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