I saw a post on my Facebook wall a few days, or maybe weeks, ago posted by one of the chemo support sites I randomly decided to follow during the dark days of chemo. It was a blog post that has apparently gone viral but I hadn't seen it before. It really made me start to think about my life and the things I do and don't tell people.
The original post was from Roadkill Goldfish. I don't know anything about the blog or its writer other than the woman has thyroid cancer, but here is a link to the post http://roadkillgoldfish.com/friends-cancer-want-know/.
The original post was from Roadkill Goldfish. I don't know anything about the blog or its writer other than the woman has thyroid cancer, but here is a link to the post http://roadkillgoldfish.com/friends-cancer-want-know/.
Since I finished chemo and no longer deal with the crazy steroid induced insomnia of treatment day I haven't done any fun posts so I thought while not necessarily fun it would be worthwhile to do a similar list.
Here goes......
1. Chemo does not suck.
Cancer really, really, really sucks. Chemo kills cancer cells. And you know the saying, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Nuff said.
2. Being called strong, inspirational, heroic, a fighter or any of the zillion other words people use for cancer patients just feels weird.
I suppose I could spend the rest of my life curled up in a little ball and hiding under the bedcovers but that seems a little pointless. Why go through all the crap I've already been through and all the crap I still get to go through just to do that? Instead I do what I'm told, jump through the hoops and enjoy my life as much as I possibly can, but I don't do anything different from what everyone else in this situation does. Seriously, when was the last time you read about a cancer patient that didn't battle valiantly?
3. I do occasionally spend time curled in a little ball hiding under the covers crying my eyes out.
I think it is just necessary. It is like an emotional reset button. Once it is over I get up and get on with living again.
4. The next time I lose my hair it is going to be a disaster.
You have now officially been warned. Losing my hair once is ok. It is part of the chemo process and fortunately I have a nicely shaped skull, but I'm sorry, having to go through hair loss a second time is just plain cruel. Plus, it turns out I love my chemo hair is even more than my old hair which will make losing it that much more difficult. I can only hope it is a long time until I have to go back on chemo.
5. Do everything you can to reduce your cancer risk.
Let me repeat, cancer really, really, really sucks. You do not want to go through this and I wouldn't wish it on another living thing. I am proof that a healthy lifestyle doesn't necessarily prevent cancer but you should still do whatever you can to decrease your risk.
6. When bad stuff happens to other people I have sympathy and compassion for them.
Life is not a contest. There is no bad news measurement stick. When I hear bad news about someone whether it is about the death of a family member, a fender bender, a sick pet, or any other bad whatever that happens to everyone that is human I don't compare the situation to my own. I take the news for what it is, bad news, and offer support.
7. I am so jealous of everyone that is working.
I am surprised no one has commented on the blindingly green shade my eyes must turn whenever someone's job is discussed. Being 2 1/2 months into my dream job and then getting handed a cancer diagnosis kinda makes we want to start screaming and throwing dishes. Fortunately for the dishes that also sounds exhausting so it ain't gonna happen.
8. I appreciate every email, text, or message you send me.
I probably should tell everyone this all the time but I am terrible at responding to those same emails, texts, and messages. I do promise that I will eventually respond to all communications.
9. I can be fine today and dead in 3 months.
I live with that every day. I watched it happen to a woman in her mid-40's with a similar diagnosis to mine last year on one of the online support groups I belong to. I find it much easier to get out of bed every day by just putting it out of my mind, but it still colours many aspects of my life. So, if I suddenly go crazy and drop everything to go on a trip or even just buy another pair of shoes by all means come join me, it might be my last chance.
And on that note,
10. Stop and smell the roses.
You have now officially been warned. Losing my hair once is ok. It is part of the chemo process and fortunately I have a nicely shaped skull, but I'm sorry, having to go through hair loss a second time is just plain cruel. Plus, it turns out I love my chemo hair is even more than my old hair which will make losing it that much more difficult. I can only hope it is a long time until I have to go back on chemo.
5. Do everything you can to reduce your cancer risk.
Let me repeat, cancer really, really, really sucks. You do not want to go through this and I wouldn't wish it on another living thing. I am proof that a healthy lifestyle doesn't necessarily prevent cancer but you should still do whatever you can to decrease your risk.
6. When bad stuff happens to other people I have sympathy and compassion for them.
Life is not a contest. There is no bad news measurement stick. When I hear bad news about someone whether it is about the death of a family member, a fender bender, a sick pet, or any other bad whatever that happens to everyone that is human I don't compare the situation to my own. I take the news for what it is, bad news, and offer support.
7. I am so jealous of everyone that is working.
I am surprised no one has commented on the blindingly green shade my eyes must turn whenever someone's job is discussed. Being 2 1/2 months into my dream job and then getting handed a cancer diagnosis kinda makes we want to start screaming and throwing dishes. Fortunately for the dishes that also sounds exhausting so it ain't gonna happen.
8. I appreciate every email, text, or message you send me.
I probably should tell everyone this all the time but I am terrible at responding to those same emails, texts, and messages. I do promise that I will eventually respond to all communications.
9. I can be fine today and dead in 3 months.
I live with that every day. I watched it happen to a woman in her mid-40's with a similar diagnosis to mine last year on one of the online support groups I belong to. I find it much easier to get out of bed every day by just putting it out of my mind, but it still colours many aspects of my life. So, if I suddenly go crazy and drop everything to go on a trip or even just buy another pair of shoes by all means come join me, it might be my last chance.
And on that note,
10. Stop and smell the roses.
Actually, I have told you all this before. I wrote an entire blog post about it. Here's the link in case you need a refresher http://nspip.blogspot.ca/2014/01/stop-and-smell-roses.html.
If I think of it, I'll review this list in about 6 months and see if anything has changed. Now, I have to go make some chocolate cake, gotta take #9 to heart ;-)
If I think of it, I'll review this list in about 6 months and see if anything has changed. Now, I have to go make some chocolate cake, gotta take #9 to heart ;-)
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