I don't know about you, but I was taught to be modest, unassuming, and self-effacing as a child and young girl. Don't stand out; don't speak up; don't stick up for yourself.
These were terrible lessons in all kinds of ways, and I'll suggest here that they're seriously counter-productive when you have to deal with a cancer diagnosis. Having cancer can be a life-or-death struggle, and a life-long habit of self-effacement is IMHO not good training for effective pushback against a serious illness like this.
However, in this diary I'm not going to address the important self-protective behaviors needed for interacting with health-care providers of all sorts, such as assertiveness and a willingness to question authority. They're crucial, to be sure, but here I'm going to talk about something more fundamental: the ability to give credit where credit is due, namely to yourself.
Who's in there doing your best post-diagnosis to make a good life for yourself and those close to you? Who's not letting cancer completely dominate your life, when there are other vital goals to pursue? Who's willing to push back against anxiety and fear and loneliness, all those demons that haunt us when we're at our lowest? Who's still able to do what we can to make this world a better place?
We are. You are. I am.
Today I received welcome news from my CT scans (chest, abdomen/pelvis) and consult: status quo results, nothing new, nothing growing. Scans always have made me anxious, and this one was no exception. I'd even say this was one of the tougher scans, at least since I achieved NED, since there was the little liver lesion that popped up a year ago and couldn't be definitively considered harmless till now. But even before having the scan today, I wanted to put up a diary calling for all of us to take stock in a good way of all we've accomplished since diagnosis.
I don't expect it to come easily for most of us; I am quite confident that the majority of people my age (certainly, most of the women) were raised to be as diffident as I. So here is your chance to practice. This is not intended to be a competition: no one else shares our circumstances, for good or ill, and no one else has had the life trajectory of anyone else. Still, the opportunity arrives very seldom to give ourselves credit in a public forum for what we've done even with carrying the burden of cancer, so let's do our best to revel in it. I'll start, after the jump.
I was diagnosed with endometrial cancer (Stage IIIC2, grade 2) in January of 2011. The first 18 months post-diagnosis were very tough, since my initial treatments were unsuccessful. But even so, I managed to travel to far-west Virginia for a family wedding, and to take a lovely weekend trip to Toronto with my youngest. My husband and I took a trip to DC to visit family, and en route stopped at Gettysburg, a place I'd always wanted to go. (On our way back, we met dear alliedoc and shared cancer-war stories.) I found and organized a medical-advisory team, some of whom were involved directly with my care then and are still. In November, my husband and I attended the wedding of his second son in Maryland, at which the photos show me as still almost bald, but absolutely delighted to be alive. And--an item of particular note, since we are now at our third anniversary--I started the Monday Night Cancer Club, soon to be joined by ZenTrainer as co-administrator.
Once I reached remission in mid-2012, I was able to embark on a few more projects. I attended NN12 in Providence as a Democracy for America scholar and found the whole experience to be seriously revitalizing. I took part in GOTV activities throughout the 2012 election season, both online and in person. Right after the election, I started the Motor City Kossacks. I forget exactly how many meet-ups we've had so far, but I think close to ten.
Last year, I was happy to see my older daughter graduate from law school. Being present myself for that milestone was not guaranteed, and though she did all the work necessary to graduate and then pass the bar, I took great pleasure in witnessing her success. She (and I think her younger sister as well) will be far better situated than I was to pursue a professional life. I took my younger daughter to California for NN13 and thereby had the chance not only to enjoy her company, but to expand her horizons a bit.
I had a glorious trip out east this spring to visit friends and family, connected to my goal of participating in the Cowboy and Indian Alliance protest against Keystone XL on the National Mall. That event, in the company of mimi and Tool, was a definite highlight of the year. This summer, I was deeply involved in organizing for NN14 in my beloved Detroit. Two of the eight panels on Detroit were of my devising, and I also prepared a great deal of guide and resource material for visitors. (We're not talking about short-comings here, so I won't go into detail about all that I wished to have done besides. ;) My younger daughter graduated from high school, another milestone I was extremely grateful to experience, and she started college here in town, somewhat to all of our surprise.
I'm just now getting seriously involved with GOTV efforts, having been limited most of the late summer and fall due to my father's illnesses and our house move. Still, I take every chance I can get, including chatting up my oncologist and her fellow today about a completely unsuitable candidate for a local judgeship! (That was actually fun.)
No, I'm not accustomed to tooting my own horn. But as that treacly card you may have seen says, cancer can do only so much. We have plenty of resources and skills that aren't limited by cancer; in fact, they may actually be enhanced as we incorporate this particular set of experiences into our personalities.
Now the floor is open to all of you. Please don't feel obliged to limit your own list of accomplishments to personal and political arenas; I'm not in a paid job right now, so that's what I've got. My circumstances don't have to constrain you. I do look forward to cheering for you when you post what you'd like to share. Good for you! Hooray! So glad you do what you do!
Monday Night Cancer Club is a Daily Kos group focused on dealing with cancer, primarily for cancer survivors and caregivers, though clinicians, researchers, and others with a special interest are also welcome. Volunteer diarists post Monday evenings between 7:30-8:30 PM ET on topics related to living with cancer, which is very broadly defined to include physical, spiritual, emotional and cognitive aspects. Mindful of the controversies endemic to cancer prevention and treatment, we ask that both diarists and commenters keep an open mind regarding strategies for surviving cancer, whether based in traditional, Eastern, Western, allopathic or other medical practices. This is a club no one wants to join, in truth, and compassion will help us make it through the challenge together.