Calling Cancer a Gift Or an Opportunity for Enlightenment Is Insulting! | Nancy’s Point

Calling Cancer a Gift Or an Opportunity for Enlightenment Is Insulting! | Nancy’s Point
— Read on nancyspoint.com/calling-cancer-gift-opportunity-enlightenment-insulting/comment-page-1/

If you haven’t read Nancy’s book, please read her posts on Nancy’spoint.com her blog give her your thoughts in the matter of has cancer made you a better person (sigh. Absolutely not in my case anyway.) Then go on amazon.com and get a copy. If you happen to be really tight on cash due to this lockdown situation then let me know. I’ll buy you a copy. Its one of three cancer experience personal stories that I nightly recommend – the other two are The Cancer Olympics by Robin McGee about her odyssey with colorectal cancer and The Cancer Whisperer by Sophie Sabbage. All three of these women have a different side of the elephant to describe to you.

But all of them, as everyone cancer has visited uninvited, also get the ass end of the elephant to describe in their styles with their truth. I’m not leaving anyone purposely out. Memoirs of a Debulked Woman by Susan Gubar about ovarian cancer is another personal fave. I’ve read so many cancer books – personal and medical – I’ve got cancer on the brain for every meal of the day. Not cancer of the brain. That scares the living shit out of me to be honest – I’ve relied on it my entire life and without it I’d not be me…but that is simply not true as we all know with the advent of the cyberknife we have come into our disease at an advanced technological time – but metastatic breast cancer is still ignored by illusive

And the nausea that’s percolating in my stomach from the thoughts I’ve had regarding the stupid things people say like, ” Well, we’re all gonna die sometime,” and…so we will. But if you know this – we are born terminal – then that’s just plain stupid. And so is the idea that we are better people. We aren’t. But we must delve deep inside and find the better parts of ourselves like tenacity, to get through the horrible treatments and the isolation and all the drudgery that is life with cancer. It’s shit.

Viruses and Assholes

Assholes. There I said it. You who were too selfish to even comprehend that viruses beg for crowds to strengthen them. The more the better, and you just couldn’t stay put for a couple of weeks to save humanity. 3,000 people in the United States are dead as a result of COVID19, as of today March 30, 2020, or so we’re told. If there are too few people to take hostage the virus will become less deadly because a virus, like a parasite, won’t kill off all of its potential hosts. To survive with less the virus weakens. So with fewer to infect so it can remain alive only far less deadly. Much unlike stupid metastatic cancer, which will eventually kill its hosts.

But such assholes probably won’t die. The ones who will die are the aged and the infirm.

I fall into the category of “infirm.”

I have one of the diseases metastatic cancer along with diabetes, AIDS, and other lovely human killers have repressed the immune systems of the human beings who walk around with those assholes. Those jerks who couldn’t stay home just for the sake of their fellow Americans to avoid such an imminently high death toll.

And the slow burning down of our Economy is their fault, too by the way.

Having metastatic breast cancer means jumping from one therapy to the next until they no longer work. Right now the very Immunosuppressive chemotherapeutic medications ingested into my body to hunt down cancer cells and save me, could kill me. Good luck to me for trying to find a lab willing to draw my blood for the four major blood tests I need to know if the Verzenio and aromatase inhibitors are working and if I’m suffering from liver or kidney dysfunction. Oh and how bad my white blood cell count really is right now to see just how open my system is to this corona virus. I’m not too happy to have been home now going into the fifth week.

I had two telemedicine visits last week with my palliative oncologist and my medical oncologist. My palliative oncologists and I are just in the “getting to know you” stage of our relationship. He’s a great guy, and I hope he lasts in the role longer than the previous four I’ve had at Stanford. I don’t think palliative medicine is still taken as seriously as it should be for those with terminal and chronic illnesses. But what a great time to educate yourselves if you’re at home like I have been.

Dr. B and I had a laugh or two on our call. He’s not as techno savvy as he will be when this is all said and done. I hope for his sake and mine he stays well. He’s in the “aged” category and I am in the “infirm” category so we run similar risks although mine’s a bit worse than his but he was in clinic doing our call. I need some ascites fluid drained off – the new protocol I’m on doesn’t seem to be getting rid of it as we’d hoped. I have a hard time breathing and I can’t button my jeans and the rest of me looks thin. It’s making my back ache where I had the L5 stress fracture in my lower back. That was two months ago when I had my CT scan. It’s showed a slow accumulation of fluid and it needs out. We will try to find a place to have it done but chances are I’ll have to go to the cancer clinic – alone. No use anyone else getting sick if I do.

But I’ll do what I have to to keep myself alive and well as long as I can. Every time Craig and our friend S leave the house they are the only ones wearing masks and gloves. They assure me the looks they get are like two men about to commit a crime. When the opposite is true – those assholes who refuse to take this situation as seriously as it should be are the thieves and crooks. The thieves of lives and the crooks of humanity.

Every time they come home from the grocery store, the post office, or the pharmacy and the occasional trip to the hardware store – we procure most of what’s needed online and the rest we try to buy from local small businesses when and if at all possible – they remove their clothes in the garage to be washed later and shower in our downstairs bathroom. They keep me safe.

I do get out for my walks and for some much needed gardening, too.

Our friend has been staying with us for the past three weeks and knows once he leaves the house he cannot come back due to the high incidence of the virus in the Bay Area and specifically to his neighborhood. He is the opposite of an asshole: the Yiddish word mensch comes to mind. He’s here to help complete what’s necessary to bring our house up to move in ready. It turns out our dream home wasn’t as move in ready as we were led to believe.

So people reading my blog aren’t likely in the part of the Venn diagram labeled assholes. And there’s a few who should stay home or face a ventilator and take a hospital bed away from someone who couldn’t help it, like a nursing home resident. If it was your mom or grandmother I doubt you’d think – well they already had their lives…fill in your own blanks. I know Americans. They love their freedom, but freedom at what cost? The cost is detrimental this time. And to those who least can afford a virus as deadly as COVID19. I don’t care if the conspiracy theorists are right and it was unleashed by the Chinese on an uprising in Wuhan province. I don’t care if it came from Mars. I’m a native New Yorker and I know the venom from the fangs of the rabid individualists. It’s deadly too.

But hear my plea. Don’t, for the love of those you love, take risks on our behalf. Don’t be an asshole. Assume no one can fight off a very strong virus. And don’t assume you don’t have it right now. You might. The massive campaign to politicize this virus is only now becoming apparent. Shame on those assholes, every last one of them. But here I sit, happy in my bath of green tea, macha powder, frankincense, and Epsom salts. I’m lucky to have telemedicine, immunotherapy, people who love me, and a house far from the madding crowds. And if you’ve got metastatic cancer and need to get away for a couple of days drive in and stay. My house is open to you.

But the rest of you – don’t be an asshole. Stay home, please, because this too shall pass and all will be well after the dust settles. I just hope I’m still here to see that first sunrise on that first day we can all breathe in the same air and heave a collective sigh.

PS The photo is of three donkeys who live up the road from us. They look rather unbothered by this fiasco and I take solace in their existence every day they come down by the fence when I am walking by. They see me and trot quickly down to say hello to me no matter where all three of them are at that moment. Craig said they don’t do that when he walks by without me. They come to the fence and shake their manes at me as though they’re inviting me to hang with them for a while. Maybe next walk I will, too. They’re asses not assholes. 😜

Metastatic Friendships: How to shift from isolation to integrative protocols

What is the goal of a friendship? Does a friendship even require a goal to exist or can it exist for the sake of itself? At times in our lives, there’s a need for companionship that goes beyond a need to not feel less alone in the world. I believe having spent the last five years in metastatic cancer land, that indeed cancer presents a number of emotional conundrums in all of our relationships —friendship, spousal, relational, or otherwise.

Some of us define friendship as simply the relationship of ones self to others in the world. But I think it’s deeper than that; souls become richer with the wisdom in listening to the hearts of the people,in our circles of interpersonal relationships. We can begin by asking questions,and truly listening to the responses. It’s there our abstract understanding of another becomes concrete – we strive to try to understand and acknowledge another person’s situation and help as we can even if that means to simply provide a sounding board.

It’s been said it takes about 100 hours of interaction to develop a true friendship. That sounds about right to me as I come to understand someome and their motivations, both positive and negative. I haven’t got the time for bold negativity for the sake of itself. And, pardon the metaphor, I cut negative people out of my life like cancer before they have the opportunity to metastasize.

Motivatious Operandi

To some, friendships are motivated by the rich medley in differing opinions, talents, cultural backgrounds, and now, health status. Without difference we would perceive the world as less colorful and fun, and more boringly shaded in black and white. An integral proportion of the richness and depth of a friendship is in the the care and love we give and receive. Friends form in the space created by our acts of kindness, both small and large. Relationships strengthen over the course of time, be it a month, a year, or a lifetime – act by act. Yet no matter the length of time we also should extend ourselves to value that which we can learn from others. Asking questions and listening can deliver far more interesting results for a deeper, emotionally enriching experience.

Some use friends to gain of selfish impetus. Unfortunately, a narcissist only relates to people as “sources” of, usually, material gain. Yet it’s during the harder times of our lives in which friendships can not only be invaluable but during which the real test results in seeing the strength of the heart of your relationships.

Mathematical Representations?

There’s an argument to be made for mathematical representation of emotions, as I read and researched others discourse on our emotional lives. A book written by Chip Conley showed how emotions and feelings are organized using mathematical terms. (Wikipedia)

Despair = Suffering – Meaning

Disappointment = Expectations – Reality

Regret = Disappointment + Responsibility

Jealousy = Mistrust-Self-Esteem

Envy = Pride+Vanity -Kindness

Anxiety = Uncertainty x Powerlessness

Calling = Pleasure/Pain

Workaholism = WhatAreYouRunningFrom?/WhatAreYouLivingFor?

Flow = Skill/Challenge

Curiosity = Wonder + Awe

Authenticity = Self-Awareness x Courage

Narcissism = (Self-Esteem)2 x Entitlement

Integrity = Authenticity x Invisibility x Reliability

Happiness = Love – Fear

Thriving = FrequencyofPositive/FrequencyofNegative

Faith = Belief/Intellect

Wisdom = √Experience

Can friendships become tarnished through the lens of cancer?

Do people remain in the life of a terminally ill friend as a form of obligation? Do some selfishly use a person whose disease can allow them to look like heroes? I’m certain there’s many hues that color our lenses in how we view our relationships before and after a cancer diagnosis. For me, many stopped cold as tougher times ahead became apparent. Some hung on for a while and slowly exited my life as two years turned to three, and now approaching five since my diagnosis.

Very few old friends stay in touch, but rather check on me through my blog and through social media. Funny thing is social media. The broadcast of health status, personal opinions, pet and kid pictures, etc. publicly relates a facade of our own design for anyone who chooses to look. We become objectifies of our own pretense through the gaze of others. I live in a global community of people with breast cancer and the sub community of people with metastatic breast cancer, which unfortunately seems to be growing by the day. It’s in this depersonalized world where I’ve found comfort and personally supportive relationships. It’s in communities of the likes of #cancertribe and #cancerfriends.

Social Integration

I’ve attempted to engage with friends as they announce their cancer diagnoses on Facebook. I think it’s a Facebook phenomenon actually. Approaching the, with my shoes tied securely on my friendly feet, it was not obligation that drove my actions but heartfelt care. Most of us have been brought up to act with the life-long philosophy that you behave towards others as you’d like to be treated if you were in a similar situation.

I swear I’ve reached out without any need for recompense nor any obligation to use my five years of navigating the healthcare, insurance, therapies, finance and all of the pillars that hold us up in this time of confusion, heartache, fear, and loneliness. Yet no one has grabbed my outstretched hand.

Risky Behavior

There’s lots of risk from the chances I take in reaching out out old friends. The pre-diagnosis friends. Yet I find engaging with people who know me as I am now is far easier for them since they had a choice to take a relationship from former acquaintance to current friendship. Kind of like habits that form over time, both good and bad. Being a friend to someone with cancer I’ll argue takes a special kind of empathy and a gift for knowing where and when to help and how to help so the illness isn’t the center of the relationship but in spite of it.

Most of my formerly good friends fell away like leaves on an oak in autumn. They turned red and fled the living assuming I’d be soon crossing the River Styx waving at them on the shore as they waved on their way down to the ground never to be seen again. It may seem melodramatic, but people I thought would truly be there just weren’t.

And people who now choose to get to know me I think I enjoy them equally if not more than the career focused women and men I intermingled with pre stage 4 diagnosis. I remember the last lunches with a few of them.

A Glimpse into the Unknown

This terminal illness can make ghosts out of even the strongest of us all, on either side of the diagnosis line. I’m sad to lose some and others it’s likely best I moved on or they decided it was too difficult to look mortality in the face when seeing mine.

But as I stated in the beginning, we enrich our lives in different perspectives. Understanding how to be a friend to someone to whom we knew prior to a diagnosis such as metastatic cancer can be rough. But the risk versus the reward is low.

Can anyone truly say how much we can learn about life from death? The mystery of not being is universal, therefore the closer we get to the line, the less fear we will have when crossing our own. So yes, the learning we can gain from befriending or deepening a friendship with someone who’s dying is not only invaluable to ourselves, but critical for the person who is on the precipice of knowing.