Life on Fast-Forward

Cancer makes you think about all sorts of things, including your own life (and how much more life you are going to have, and how best to live it, but that's another post for another day).

When I look back at my life, I've pretty much always lived it on fast-forward, once I left home. (My parents' lives were 78s played at 33 1/3, if that makes sense in this age of DVDs.)

I went to Japan for a year while I was in college. I had my first master's degree by age 26 and my second by 29. I got married in there somewhere, and then went to Tokyo to work the minute I was done with that second master's (which I finished in a year and a half--a two-year program, normally).

We adopted Older Son the first year we were there, and I lived a crazy life trying to be a journalist and a good mother, both. The marriage suffered, needless to say.

Divorce. Return to the States. Romance that produced Younger Son. Life as a single parent, working full-time (the toughest years ever).

Then cancer.

The toughest thing for me about life with cancer is my lack of energy. I know those of you who read my blog regularly probably think I have LOTS of energy, but the truth is, I don't.

I prioritize. I give up when I'm tired. And I only have about eight hours of good energy a day (which I'm grateful for, there were times it was only four or six hours).

And this is endlessly frustrating to me. I know how to cope, and I manage, and priorize, like I said. But I want more energy and more time on a daily basis.

It's the toughest thing about being me.

What's the toughest thing about being YOU? Add a comment, below.

@ Jeanne Sather 2008.

Comments

[Dee]

My first thought was that the toughest thing about being me was also not having enough energy to do all I want to do, especially in the last year or so.

But, truthfully, the toughest thing about being me are my insecurities that stem from growing up poor and also being a minority in a small timber town in Central Oregon. Even with all that I have been able to accomplish - having a job that pays the bills and gives me a little extra for my books and clothes, and having a job where I can make a small difference in other people's lives or to change relations between institutions and indigenous peoples - I still feel like I'm not good enough. At the heart of it is that I just want to belong. I want people to like me. It amazes me that people want to do things for me - and I cry when they do. I'm learning, through counseling, that I am good enough and I have found lately that I don't cry as much when people do things for me, because I do deserve it. But it's still something I'm working on.

Hmm, just had a flash of insight . . . there are a few people with whom I want nothing to do with. They are individuals who have crossed the line - I feel that I tried to make the relationship (whether work or person) work. But they behaved so badly that I just had to cut them out of my life. I feel guilty about that at some level because I guess I think either that 1) if they treated me badly, they must not like me and that hurts; or 2) that it was my fault because I didn't act professionally or courteously enough, so they responded badly. I've been wrestling with that in counseling for awhile . . . but now that I can name it, maybe I will finally get over it! Hmmm . . . thanks, Jeanne, for suggesting this post. I think I just had a breakthrough!
Love, Dee

[jeanne]

Dee--thanks for being so open.

I have a few people who I have completely cut ties with, including my mother, with my therapist's blessing--in fact, she helps me stay strong when I waver. Sometimes you have to do this to protect yourself.

More for us to talk about when I see you in May!

Love you, Jeanne

[Ivy]

The toughest thing about being me right now is having my energy to fight metastatic breast cancer drained, when I need it most.

I am so broken.

I was just handed the news that I have to have Navelbine and a porta-cath put in next week. I had to argue for a week to get my things in order. My doctor's nurse sounded annoyed, and when I asked about this she said my medical team is "frustrated" because I "don't seem to trust the doctor's decisions."

This is the same doctor who ENCOURAGED me to take a little time and get used to the news, to even seek a second opinion. Now I'm being labeled as "frustrating" for doing just that.

I've run into this a few times, including a disastrous second-opinion visit with a local doctor who berated me for crying in his office when he exclaimed "why did they do that?" about my treatment, and told me I'd have to have A/C and lose my hair, or die. Yes, I cried, because it was upsetting.

So many things are getting to me about the way breast cancer patients are treated. There is such a lack of warmth where I go... but the local big hospital won't take me because (I think) my insurance isn't good enough. I keep getting reminders that I am "lucky" that I'm not being dumped, that they're doing me favors.

When I ask my nurse why she sounds so cold, she coldly tells me that she will give me appropriate treatment. And her tone tells me that I am unlikable. They'll treat me, but I feel despised.

And I am so horribly afraid of what more chemo will do to me. I am terrified of spending the rest of my life despised and treated coldly by my medical team, but I have no alternative. I have to act grateful and take it, apparently, and be glad they'll give me the medicine. And never ask for empathy.

And yet when I express despair, they get angry and say they have an obligation to keep me from hurting myself.

I wonder what they really want me to do? It feels as if they want me to die quietly, or something. I never knew that breast cancer would be this hard, and that it could threaten my will to live. I thought I was impervious to it.

[jeanne]

Ivy--sweetie, I'm e-mailing you right now. Jeanne

[debutaunt]

Right now it's not being able to organize my paperwork (no desk - I'm always back and forth between my room and the living room), deciding on insurance crap when mine runs out in Oct this year, the neverending fatigue, and not being able to do the stuff I want - like working out or being in Seattle with my sweetie.

[jeanne]

Debs--the dining room table has pretty much become my desk, because I need that much space when I'm doing paperwork and the desk I DO HAVE is piled high with other stuff.

Sigh.

I have to clear the dining room table whenever people come over, and then I lose my precious organization, which is "this pile here, and this pile there..."

But you will be in Seattle soon! Tell Zoe there will be kittens for her to play with. They are arriving tonight. About 10 days old now, so should be about three weeks when you are here.

I'm so excited. What are Zoe's favorite colors?

Jeanne