Being Real

My confession to our readers. For days I have been struggling with myself. Repeatedly I asked myself, "What should I write today?" Topics have lingered in my mind and then got dismissed. I am concerned that I may fail those of you looking for something tangible. It may be something that allows you to make sense of a world that now threatens our survival.

Like many of you, I have managed some tremendous life obstacles. Yet, I believe that I survive because I, too, am here to fulfill a purpose. Whether at the bedside of a dying patient or supporting a colleague in distress, I maintain that the world needs people who can be present to the pain of others without losing perspective.

Coping

In psychology, cognitive shifting is the brain's ability to adapt behavior and thoughts to new, changing, or unexpected events. Essentially, this can be a learned behavior, a way of coping with the most challenging situations. Sometimes, shifting is the ability to see what you're doing isn't working and make the appropriate changes to adapt to new conditions.

While sounding quite simple, it isn't. I turn every situation around and attempt to see every instance from another perspective. I try my best to use my faith and the beliefs held by others when faced with tragedy or even death.

On most days, I succeed in being a reliable source of positivity. I firmly believe no matter the challenge, there is an answer, a solution, or a way to accept that allows each of us to find a place of peace. This philosophy became my raison d'etre, my reason to be.

Being real with myself and others

However, I also find there is value in expressing all the other sides of the experience with cancer. Acknowledging the parts of this path that can truly get a person down can be therapeutic. Therefore, I encourage each of us to write down a list of things we perceive as changes in our life. For example:

Who am I now?

• When I look at myself in the mirror each morning, I don't see the person I used to be. Gone is my long blond well-styled hair. My skin color is no longer pink or tan but a pale yellow hue. I have lost interest in makeup to improve this look because I am bald no matter what I do.
• Usually, I would be thrilled to enjoy food and desserts. But, unfortunately, the chemo leaves little taste of many things I loved to eat. So I end up saying, "why bother?"

Reversing roles

• Although he won't admit it, my husband has had to take on tasks we used to share. He hated gardening, and no surprise, grass and flowering trees and shrubs bring me great joy. Yet the neuropathy in my feet and hands leave me with limits in safely walking our property or cutting down weeds.
• Another loss of independence is apparent as I no longer grocery shop and need to rely on others to select food for our dinner. Many times I am not even able to eat or cook.

Isolation

• Chemotherapy has impacted Platelets, White Blood Cells, and Neutrophils, making me vulnerable to infection and us especially limited socially. Specifically, my little Charlie's 5th birthday will come without his Mema present. It has become a given that we will not appear as a couple at any neighborhood, family, or community events.
• Our big day outside our home is for infusions, PET scans, injections, and oncologist visits.
• Gone is our love of travel and the joy of being present to others.

What helps us through

There is clearly a balance between expressing ourselves and being grumpy and isolated. Each of us needs to find the time, person, and place where we can be truthful about the whole of this experience. It is unique for each of us. Most of us in advanced stages of ovarian cancer have come to terms with important decisions around continuing treatment or a time when we may end. Find your way to cope as there is no magical solution, but this I know.

Speak your truth. Continue to get your needs met. Be kind and loving to yourself and those who matter to you.

Some of us recognize the Peggy Lee song, "Is That All There Is?"...

Is that all there is? Is that all there is?
If that's all there is, my friends, then let's keep dancing...