Random Thought Sunday (10/16/2011)

******

We need another label. These just don't work for me.

Yes, technically I am a patient, since I am undergoing treatment for a chronic disease. But the word "patient" conjures up antiseptic hospital rooms and off-the rack backless gowns. This just does not speak to me.

The definitions of survivor make my skin crawl. ...remaining alive after...others have died. True, to some extent, for some.    ...copes well with difficulties in life. Coping is relative. Coping well is purely subjective. Ironically, it is the public expectation that persons with cancer do nothing but cope well. No one likes a poorly or misbehaved person dealing with cancer. They don't make good poster icons for fundraisers. I can't fit myself into the paradigm of survivor.

Victim resonates: tricked, duped, offered up as a sacrifice to the pink industry. But victimization also requires a certain acquiescence. I will not go down that path.

We need another label, or better yet ... no label at all.

 pa·tient
 noun     /pey-shuh nt]

                1. A person who is under medical care or treatment.
              
              2. A person or thing that undergoes some action.

              3. Archaic ~  A sufferer or victim.

peɪʃənt/ Show Spelled

sur·vi·vor

noun /sərˈvīvər/  A person who survives, esp. a person remaining alive after an event in which others have died The remainder of a group of people or things A person who copes well with difficulties in their life A joint tenant who has the right to the whole estate on the other's death vic·tim noun /ˈviktəm/  A person harmed, injured, or killed as a result of a crime, accident, or other event or action A person who is tricked or duped A living creature killed as a religious sacrifice

The Purgatory of Cancer

****** Being a survivor is a life sentence. There is no beginning, nor end, per se other than the inevitable we all face.

It is a matter of waiting...waiting...waiting. These are prophetic words articulated by so many of the blogs that I follow off the Being Cancer blog-os-phere network. What all these individuals dealing with caner seem to have in common is that they all opted in for the cut/slash/ and or burn protocol after being told those karma-changing words... "it's cancer.". Even my anti - pink fellow marauder, Anne, opened up her veins to the "juice." I am not making any judgment here. This is purely observation and the musings that arise therefrom.

I don't think of myself as a survivor. It seems that moniker more aptly belongs to those who have come through the horrific battleground of adjuvant treatment. Does this make me a coward? A deserter? Did I burn my draft card with my post-operative bra? Since I am not a survivor, then what I am? I experience the same immutable waiting game...waiting...waiting...for the what next. I have the same objective ... out live the odds. I crave to go back to "normalcy," i.e. pre-cancer existence where tomorrows had a boundless meaning; when day to day life did not feel internally controlled by the tolling of a time bomb; when I felt that I could outrun my own mortality by wearing my seat belt, avoiding semis on the interstate, and keeping the speedometer under 110 mph. Instead, I am neither survivor nor casualty. I am in cancer purgatory. Dante could not have conceived of a more stifling environ. Which would be fine, if I wasn't Jewish.

Happy Anniversary Baby!

******

Truckin' like the doodah man
Once told me "Gotta play your hand
Sometimes the cards ain't worth a dime
If you don't lay them down"

Sometimes the lights all shining on me
Other times I can barely see
Lately it occurs to me
What a long strange trip it's been

One year ago today I was diagnosed with Invasive Lobular Carcinoma - Stage III (in truth the staging came in August after the mastectomy). One year of "survivorship" under my belt...only four to nine more years to surpass the prognosis! (How's that for a point spread!)

What a wild ride it has been these last 12 months. It is with utter amazement that I reflect back on the day my mortality was handed to me, with a soundtrack courtesy of YES reverberating through me. That day was a lifetime ago.

Today, if I am lucky, the wild ride will continue. The landscape may change, however.

What in the world ever became of sweet Jane?
She lost her sparkle you know she isn't the same
Living on reds and vitamin C and cocaine
All her friends can say is ain't it a shame

One of the realities that I discovered along this road is, that when facing your mortality it is not about "battling" a foe or trying to regain what was "normal" before. Rather, the ride is about developing a "new reality" that allows me to live with a chronic disease.

I cannot say that I have succeeded in my new reality. I don't know how "success" should be defined. What I can say is, that I have embraced the road I am on. It is a road beset with rabbit holes. It is also a road that is shrouded with many uncertainties. Yet, there can be clarity even in the darkness. At all times on the road I am cognizant of my long term objective -- the legacy, if you will. This knowledge is what helps keep me from getting too distracted by the "tea parties"* of Vitamin C & D and Calcium Glucarate.

So today, I take a breath. I embrace that I've been on the road for a year. And I note that I have more than earned the status of "survivor."



* No political connotation intended what-so-ever!