Protected: Best of Blog: Patience, Persistence, Peace
This post is from 7/18/12, the day of my second lumpectomy. I was already resting at home and had enough energy and adrenaline to write two posts! This is the second post. I have been very lucky to have such caring and competent medical care. Unfortunately, this surgery was not the end of cancer surgeries since the margins weren’t clear. I had multi-focal cancer, meaning that there were multiple tumors, which although tiny and relatively slow growing, were separate tumors. Consequently, I got another toe squeeze from Dr. Beatty after my mastectomy, which I would have three weeks after I wrote this post.
Surgery went well and I am resting at home. Dr. Beatty reassuringly squeezed my foot as he left after we had our pre-op talk. My first thought? “I have to tell my mom!”.
This is the email my mom sent to my last night after hearing about the clear PEM scan. (It still won’t make total sense so I’ll explain it later in the post.)
Hi Liz,
I was so relieved that I forgot to wish you well on the lumpectomy.Hope all goes well. We love you so much.All week I kept hoping that Dr. Clark would squeeze my footand tell me you’d be OK. I guess he did.
Protected: Synchronicity on Wheels
I’ve been debating about writing this post for nearly nine months now. I don’t want to make anyone feel bad or guilty. But the truth is that although the vast majority of people have been wonderfully supportive to me in respect to my breast cancer, there are a couple of people in my life who have stunned me with the unexpected ways they’ve responded.
Rule #1 If a friend tells you that she has cancer, it is best to respond right away if only to say something along the lines of “I’m so sorry to hear that. You are in my thoughts/prayers.”
I know it doesn’t sound like much but it means a lot to be acknowledged. I know you can’t take my disease away.
Rule #2
If you neglected to respond right away, respond right now with a communication along the lines of “I’m so sorry you have cancer. I’m also sorry for my delay in talking to you about it. You are in my thoughts/prayers.” Making excuses at this point is risky. Some excuses are totally understandable like my friend who lives in another state and unbeknownst to me, was sick for a few months and had to temporarily close down her business. That is a very very good excuse and by the way, friend who knows who she is, I am so sorry that you were sick but it was so great to talk to you recently. I am so glad that you are so far on the road to recovery. Other excuses like, “I’m sorry, I was too busy” is not an excuse that makes me feel better. It makes me feel worse, to tell you the truth. Maybe you did mean to respond sooner but thought you should do something fancier than the statement from rule #1. And then time got away from you.
Or perhaps the idea of cancer freaks you out because it is a very serious disease, that can happen to anyone, and can kill people. I understand your fear but it is not a good excuse. We live in a world of uncertainty. None of us know exactly when we will die. A compassionate statement goes a long way, even if it is short. Being seriously ill has some extremely isolating moments and for many people, the isolation is chronic.
Rule #3
Please do not skip over the fact that I am dealing with a scary and serious illness and act as if nothing is wrong. I am still your friend and I offer you whatever friendship and support that I can. I know you have your own troubles. It helps me to know that there are things I can still offer my friends. But please don’t skip over my cancer and then ask me for help with something in your life.
Rule #4
If you think you messed up with a friend in need, please don’t spend your time guilting yourself out about it. Simply apologize and again, be careful with the excuses. I recently received apologies from some good friends. It meant a great deal to me. They didn’t make excuses even though in reality, they have some pretty good ones.
Rule #5
If you at a loss of what to do and your friend keeps a blog, you can help by reading the blog. I love for people to read my blog and press “like” from time to time. (Oops, you have to have a WordPress account to “like” a post. I had forgotten that when I originally wrote this.) Then I know they are thinking about me. A supportive comment is a cherry on top of the sundae. (No WordPress account is necessary for posting a comment.)
Rule #6
If you are at a loss of what to do, live close to your friend, and like to cook, bringing food is a lovely concrete nurturing act.
Rule #7
Convalescing gets really boring, especially for an extrovert such as myself. Visitors, emails, texts, and phone calls can be really nice. If the time is not good, I will tell you.
There are so many things that we can do for our “friends in need.” Even the tiniest acknowledgement helps. The time to do it is now.
Just as in the commercials for Eggo waffles, someone keeps trying to take something that’s mine. That someone is cancer stress of course. Stress has taken my “ergo”. As I told my husband yesterday, my brain still holds facts (not as many as before) but what is a bigger loss is that I am so infrequently unable to integrate the facts into a conclusion.
Here’s a fictional example to illustrate my point:
“Hmm, I have a patient tomorrow from 1:30 to 2:30 in my office. I have another meeting at 2:30 at Random Elementary School. Since Random Elementary is not my office and I can’t be in two places at the same time, I need to reschedule one of my meetings.”
Here’s how it goes now:
“Hmm, I have a patient tomorrow from 1:30 to 2:30 in my office. I have another meeting at 2:30 at Random Elementary School. I wonder if I have any new email?”
Yes, fortunately, the above was a fictional example. I did not actually schedule myself this way. But I have a jumble of facts in my head at any one time and they are just noise when I can’t make meaning from them. I’ve made lots of other mistakes. With friends and family, I make a lot of comments along the lines of, “Oh yeah” but several minutes to days after I should have made the connection. A couple of weekends ago, my mom mentioned that she was going to go visit her friend at a rehab facility. I understood what she said. I was even aware that the rehab facility is not only in my city but about two miles from my house. I even understood that my parents live in another town. I like my parents. A few days later I told my mom, “Oh yeah, when you were visiting June, I should have invited you over for a visit afterwards.”
Yes, I should have but stupid cancer took my ergo.
L’eggo my ergo!
Seattle is a very hilly city. Compared to other major U.S. cities, Seattle it ranks second. (San Francisco is number 1, not surprisingly.)
A few days ago, I slept in instead of going walking at my usual time. I ended up getting to work early and taking a shorter walk in the neighborhood surrounding my office. I decided to walk on a long hill rather than taking a winding route since Seattle is full of twists and turns and dead ends, due to the aforementioned hills. I wanted to make sure that I would make it back to my office in time for my first patient.
So here is my photo chronicle of my fight with the hill, The Thrilla up the Hill-a.
Okay, the hill is a little steep but I’m coming out with a perk in my step, light on my feet.
It’s heating up. The gloves come off! (Thanks, exercised induced hot flash.)
Okay, the fight’s slowing down a little. The incline is flattening out a bit.
Wait, this hill goes on and on! I have been fooled!
The hill continues, but I am now in “Church Alley” and get spiritual support from Seattle Lutheran High School to my right and West Seattle Christian to my left.
I made it! Holy Rosary Church greet me at the end of the battle.
Okay, so the truth is that the “Thrilla up the Hill-a” was not the “fight of the century”. It was actually fairly easy. I did not have to take the hill to 14 rounds to knock it out, unlike Mohammed Ali and Joe Frazier. It was enjoyable but didn’t make me stretch all that much. Maybe it was the “Thrilla of Vanilla.”
I’m a lot stronger than I thought I was and I’m going to keep fighting for good health and peace in my life.
This post is from 7/14/12. It’s not so much of a “best of blog” for the writing but for what gardening means to me. I was so happy to be able to get out and weed. My garden used to be a sanctuary and I’ve really missed being able to work out there on a regular basis. I know that it’s only a matter of time until my schedule and body cooperate so that I can get out there again and do some real work. Unlike my daily walking, the gardening involves physical movement that is not as controlled and emphasizes my right upper body, you know the part that keeps getting surgery. Currently, I am physically up to it but my schedule is crazy until the surgery. My wonderful hubby did some clean up for my last weekend and it made a world of difference. I try not to look at the amount of grass that is invading the flowers and ground covers.
I got to get out in the yard and weed this morning. Yay! Here are some pictures of my Jungle of Delights!
Protected: Solid
Four, four, four, four
Let’s sing a song about four.
How many is four….?
Four is the number of reports I have left to write before my surgery! Yay, I finished off two reports today! They all need to be done before March 6th. I can do that.
Phew.
P.S. In case there is someone on the planet who does not recognize the counting song from Sesame Street, please know that I copied part of the counting song from Sesame Street.
Phew. Lawsuit from the Sesame Workshop averted. And please, refrain from Elmo jokes in the comments section. I still feel sick about that whole deal.
My Eyes Are Up Here 