(2) It’s not all good

As some of my new age friends would say, I’ve always “resonated” with the ancient Chinese philosophy of Yin / Yang.  I recently found a report I did in the 4th grade where I wrote “everything has it’s pluses and minuses, even if it’s hard to see at the time.”  Not only am I impressed that I apparently understood that concept at age 10, but that I could spell “pluses” and “minuses” which now forces me to pause as I type this.

“Silver linings” discussions can be very cliche.  I think the ultimate lesson is to realize that any judgment on the positivity or negativity of an experience is simply mental masturbation.  It’s easy, it feels good, we seem to be in control of it and therefore, perhaps, we have some hand in its outcome.  Sorry Law of Attraction zombies, there really truly is a dark side to life and filtering out the Yin will only create a seething dark pool of Yang that will inevitably jump out and bite you.  It is the recognition and acceptance of the two complementary forces that makes for peace.

And so I will march towards my cure with only positive outcomes in mind, but I will also try to embrace the parts that are not that good.  Right now, this minute, I am feeling hurt and confused by the reaction of some people to my cancer disclosure. This has prevented me from fully proclaiming (whatever that means) my disease.  I may be blaming more on them than is fair.  I realize we all – EVERYONE – has crosses to bear.  Most folks are already at their capacity for dealing with problems and disturbing situations and may not be able to absorb my news and carry on with normalcy.  But I don’t want a marching band and parade.  So far when disclosing my diagnosis, I’ve felt it was necessary to be a cheerleader… “but the good news is…”

So I mainly told folks I see every day.  Suzanne, the checkout lady at Publix knows.  She said. “I’m so sorry to hear… you are such a nice person.  I’ve never seen you when you weren’t smiling.”  She frowned and started to tear up. I said, “I’ll be fine.  My problem is minor compared to most people in the same boat.” I’m going to practice just saying, “thank you.”

Back when I had the lymph node surgery, I missed many of my daily trips to the post office.  When I did finally show up and got in line like I usually do, albeit walking funny because of the drain… my postal clerk friend Bill saw me in line, left the counter, and motioned me to the conference room to the side.  In private there, with a line of other folks waiting, he asked what was going on with me.  I told him and about the surgery and the diagnosis.  He broke down crying right there, and of course I did as well.  At the time, I did not know how favorable my treatment outlook was going to be. It was very tough.

Then there’s the friend who has ignored my news completely, and has manufactured some problem between us, and now isn’t speaking to me.  I wish I knew a way to correct this that did not drain my energy and emotions – resources I need to maintain and marshal for myself.  I can’t help but think how selfish this person is being, but I get exhausted thinking what to do about it – and I haven’t even started my treatment yet!  Should I accept that this person does not have the capacity to be my friend right now, or is this the sort of test that defines friendship and I should just go ahead and “cut bait”? Are they reacting this way because they are afraid of losing me, and are preemptively disassociating from me to avoid that possible pain?  Or are they choosing this route because they really weren’t that good of a friend to begin with?

The reality is… a large part of me wants to crawl off and just be alone without telling anyone, and I’ll come back when I’m all better.  Most people I’ve known or heard about going through cancer treatments are not like that at all.  They seem to want and have someone (or many) at their side, holding their hand and cheering and praying.  I recall the same dilemma when I had my heart attack and was recuperating. I certainly appreciated those who helped out and wanted to be with me, but a part of me just wanted to be alone. I felt had to “take care” of my supporters, and I really just wanted to take care of me.

As it turns out, I have not told many people about what’s going on.  By far, the people who I’ve told have responded with genuine offers of support, love and help in any way I need help. I’ve talked about it with friends who have had similar heath challenges.  Dear friends who I’ve relied on for help in the past and a few I know would gladly step up should they be a need. I just told my family while visiting Texas on June 9th, and if the prognosis / treatment was different – I know unquestionably they would physically be here at my side.  It was unfortunate that my initial experience in disclosing the diagnosis was met with a couple tepid reactions, to say the least, but I have a much larger network of support that I have not even begun to tap.  Hence my questioning whether or not that is something I need or want.  I just do not know.