
Lone Tree, Lake Oroville, 2007
“Frankly remission is an awkward place. In fact beyond the normal wear & tear of aging, I now look & feel as well as I did before I became ill. But I have not been able to go forward as though nothing had happened, & that is because something has happened & it happened to me.”
I have no idea where this quote came from. I’m sure I grabbed it from somewhere on the web, a friend or an article. I saved it months ago to write a post about it and failed to save the reference, for which I apologize.
But it illustrates so well an issue we don’t always talk about.
I have an online friend in England who wrote a beautiful and painful post about being in remission, being depressed and feeling guilty. She talked about how alone she felt and that her friends and family didn’t understand why she wasn’t “happy”. Why she wasn’t “moving on.” She had a young daughter and was a single mom, and quite frankly, she was trying to put some semblance of a life back together, but she didn’t know where to start. Everything but her daughter had been ripped away. It garnered a tremendous response of folks who totally understood where she was coming from and were relieved that someone had dared to articulate something they too were struggling with. She and I corresponded regularly for sometime and I’m happy to report that she found work helping others in an official capacity with cancer, and she is thriving. But it was after some really dark days.
It’s almost like a substance abuse situation where we have to hit emotional bottom and then pick ourselves up by the boot straps and say “ENOUGH!” That is, for those of us who survive the illness and the treatment. It comes on the heels of what I have talked about with regards to learning how to LIVE with cancer.
As a husband and wife, struggling to be on the same page on that trip to the bottom and hopefully back again, it should not to be dismissed lightly. I remember early on, and I have alluded to this before, that I was not kind to Dave in the very beginning. I had my lightbulb moment about it and things settled down after that. I realized that I was so afraid and I needed him – my man, by my side, holding MY HAND and telling me it was going to all be OK. I have learned over the years that when I have a very strong reaction like that, its best to look inward and try to find what is really going on. It’s generally not someone or something external that is causing me to feel a particular way. Oh it is contributing, or the impetus for what is happening, but it is generally not the culprit.
For many of us with Multiple Myeloma, we don’t feel as healthy as before. We have neuropathy, we are perhaps still taking some oral chemotherapy drugs, we’re tired, immunosuppressed, and then as with any cancer, there is the six month check up! A constant reminder that we have cancer! We’re damaged goods and we don’t like it. We may have restrictions. We might have had to retire early or go on disability. And it generally isn’t affecting just the patient. It’s affecting the marriage and/or the family unit in a big way.
One friend of mine whose husband got MM had to retire early and go on disability. Then she also had to retire early and suddenly, and begin the arduous task of taking care of him over the next 3 years. He recently passed away and so now she has to try and recreate a life after 3 years of myeloma without him, a widow. She was happy. She was working. She had friends. But talking with her recently she shared with me that the past 3 years with him were some of the happiest they ever had. Stuck in a little apartment far from home without all the trappings and stresses of their life, they were together, doing the simplest of things, they had everything they needed, and they were happy.
That launched us into that strange other worldly place that we both understood. I commented that Dave and I have never been happier as we are now after this experience. Oh we still quip at one another here and there and I can get annoyed, but it’s all so different. Our fuses are long and endless, and our blow ups are short and often end in laughter. We just don’t care so much about so many things that used to be the end all and be all all of our life. I share about in my talks, that Dave was telling folks he was “taking his life back!” And how I reminded him, “We don’t have to take it ALL back!”
Remission is indeed a strange little no man’s land. Some folks are saying Cancer Free now because of the historic connection of remission alluding to the fact that it could come back. Whatever gets you through it. Point is, if you are there and feeling strange, like you should be acting a particular way and you’re not… It’s OK. You’ll get there. Just keep moving forward, no matter how small.
Another friend of mine’s son recently wrecked his car. He was hit by another car and his cute little car was “totaled”. He was upset and angry. As you know, an old car that runs, is worth more than an old car that is “totaled” by the insurance company. Anyway, his mother said, “You can visit Pity Party, but you can’t live there!” Boy did that make me laugh out loud. It’s so true. We can visit, but really, we can’t stay. So pack up your bags friend, and get ready to bug out.
Create a new life, with new friends, maybe in a new place. Do what brings you pleasure.
“It is very important to generate a good attitude, a good heart, as much as possible. From this, happiness in both the short term and the long term for both yourself and others will come.” - Dalai Lama
Tags: remission struggles