In the spirit of the holiday, let me share this picture, and a personal story. This was my weekly view from the comforts of my room during my infusion sessions at the cancer center.
I realize that it’s been nearly 3 years since I last logged an entry. So many things have happened since. So many holidays has rolled by. I changed jobs, the kids got bigger, and I’ve completed the big C triathlon: surgery, chemo and radiation. Oh, with an extra kidney surgery too. And another Oh, during the seemingly everlasting pandemic, no less. So, if you think that 2020 and 2021 really sucked, I say, no kidding, man!
This Thanksgiving, I truly have much to be grateful for. I admit it’s been rough undergoing multiple surgeries and treatments with no one to hold your hand when they wheel you in to the operating room. And it’s even worse waking up disoriented, nauseous, and alone. BUT, in spite of it all, I am here. I am alive and able to be with my family. For that, I am most grateful.
Because cancer is not one individual alone’s story, I’m thankful that my family went on living life as normal as possible while we went through with it. Sure, my kids were worried when I first shared the diagnosis. But they reconciled with the hand we were dealt with, got over the sadness, and we all laughed and shared bald jokes at my expense, with my blessings of course. We made it a family affair to cut my hair, braiding them first for donation, then hubby shaved it off. Kids are amazingly resilient. My devoted husband solely took care of me when the rest of our family couldn’t come to help, because, oh you know, pandemic + being immunocompromised don’t really go together. So, we stayed hunkered down as safely as we could until I could get vaccinated. And even then, because we weren’t sure how effective the vaccine worked on me while I was undergoing chemo, we continued to practice the utmost safety measures.
My parents and sister worried, and sent support and meals to help out. We were truly grateful for those because it meant Eric can take a break, and just sit down and we can eat meals together. Only a handful of people knew about what I was going through, our closest friends and family, and they checked in and sent me messages, delicious goods, and cancer care kits. It felt wonderful to be “hugged” by them in spite of the distance and the pandemic. But while our support system were not physically with us, I had plenty of cheerleaders in my nurses at the cancer center. I will remember them all and the moments they took care of me. They celebrated the milestones, and told me plenty of stories. My life has been immeasurably enriched by them. And of course, the critters! Turkeys, deer, bunnies, and acrobatic squirrels graced my window and provided a ton of entertainment while I was intoxicated with Benadryl during infusions.
Why did I choose to not share sooner? You see, it’s not really about keeping it a secret, as if there is shame in getting ill with cancer. There is none. I didn’t share it because I didn’t know how, and I didn’t want to constantly think about it. I was overwhelmed, and I want to stay in my little shell where it is safe, and where I can choose to not talk about it when I’m feeling particularly ill. There’s a reason why they call the A/C chemo treatment “The Red Devil”. It’s red, and it makes you feel like…. You get the drift. Some days, even getting up from bed or going down the stairs was a task. In many ways, I was happy when my husband took the kids out for a hike, or when the kids bickered at each other like usual, or on when I baked Challah on Fridays, or pushed through work while undergoing chemo. The routine and the normalcy kept me going, kept me from plunging in depressing thoughts. Instead, there was mostly the feeling of gratitude - to have a family, to have the medicine and treatments available, and the wherewithal to get them. It’s not that I forgot the neuropathy, or that I had no eyebrows or the bloatedness from the steroids. But somehow, by not dwelling on the challenges and weariness, I felt a sense that everything would be ok. I get that people deal with things differently, and I made peace that this was my way of coping.
Why do I share it now? Now that I’ve crossed the triathlon finish line, I realize that there’s NO knowing if someone is going through something major, especially during these times. Like me, others may be silent about their battles, and quietly struggle with pain, lack of energy, loneliness. So this is my megaphone: If life is challenging you right now, it’s ok to not share until you’re ready. But if you need someone to talk to, I am here. I will hear you. If you are going through cancer, I am happy to be a resource.
Cancer is truly a transformative experience. After going through cancer, it’s so easy to wonder how many more holidays I’d be granted with my family. But I will not dwell on that, and neither should you. Instead, allow yourself to laugh out the loudest at the dinner table if you want to, or have that extra slice of pie, a glass of wine or two or three!
Today, I will celebrate the people and the memories that mean much to me, for these are what made me push through and kept me moving in the face of a difficult challenge. Tomorrow, after recovering from food coma like everyone else, I will be rolling out of bed and going to my oncologist appointment. Still with grace and gratitude, for a holiday well spent with family.
Let the frantic cooking begin!
Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!
