I just read my last blog post. Holy shitballs, it’s been a while since I’ve posted. I apologize. Although I would love to say that I have overcome all of the obstacles of cancer, that just isn’t true, and let me tell you why. An acquaintance of mine, who I will refer to as Janis, was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. I cannot count on one hand the number of times I’ve had someone tell me that they have a good friend who was recently diagnosed with breast cancer and that they have given her my contact information to call with any questions. I spoke with a couple of these women a few of times, but there was no continuing dialogue. A phone call here, a follow-up there, but that’s it. However, with Janis, who I did not know very well prior to her diagnosis, I have started a real dialogue with someone going through exactly what I went through over three years ago. She is scared, confused, totally stressed out, and worried about her future.
I thought the first call I got from Janis would be like the others — a lot of confused and frenetic energy wanting to talk to someone, ending with no continued contact. In the past, it was weird for me because I didn’t know whether it was appropriate to follow-up with these women. I didn’t know any of them very well, and I understand that the path to survivorship is a personal one — you focus on the energy that you feel is healing and will get you through the tough times. Your bandwidth is limited. So I let these women define the relationship and whether there would be continued contact. None of them followed up after a few contacts. I just assumed all of them found other sources of support and completed their Rite of Passage to become a “survivor.” Sometimes I received confirmation that, in fact, these women made it through okay. For others, however, I have no idea how they are doing.
Janis is different. From our first talk, I realized that her cancer issues were very similar to mine: an awful family history with breast cancer, an unknown genetic test result, and an aggressive cancer that presented at an early age. She called me despite being a relatively private person and not knowing me very well. We had an amazing first talk, during which she told me the context of her finding the lump and following up with her doctors, the results of the biopsy and subsequent tests, and how she was feeling after the diagnosis and all the unanswered questions and additional tests on the horizon. Our conversation was unnerving but cathartic for me. I found myself reliving my experience but also having the luxury of knowing how the story “ends.” I know how my treatment ended and what my prognosis is. Janis is still struggling with all the information being thrown at her and she has no idea whether she will be okay. For Janis, I think she really appreciated having someone as a reference who had gone through the process recently and who was willing to answer her questions candidly. Janis has no illusions about the gravity of the situation she is in. Her cancer is more pervasive than mine was and she is very lucky that she was persistent enough to follow up with her doctors about the lump she felt in her breast. Unlike me at the same stage as where she’s at now, she knows exactly what the worst case scenario is. She has two small children and I don’t believe there is a moment that goes by that she doesn’t consider what life will be like for her kids if she’s not around. I had the luxury of being able to cry and break down emotionally whenever I wanted to. She had to get off the phone with me the other day to allow her time to regain her composure before her kids came home from childcare. Janis’ experience and her honesty in sharing it with me has given me insight into how my Mom must have felt during her cancer treatment.
Janis’ challenge is to endure what I call the “information gathering stage” and to get to the point where her treatment plan is in place and she can invest in it and in healing. What I’ve realized since talking with Janis is that her challenge has become mine. I am invested now. I want to see this challenge through to the end in a way I haven’t since I went through it myself. This is a commitment I don’t think I could have handled until now. I’m not sure what has changed. Perhaps an invested future survivor has made the difference. Perhaps enough time has passed. Whatever the case is, I am facing the reality that accompanying Janis on this path will bring up a lot of baggage for me, but I’m ready for it. Especially if that means I’m helping to pave the path for the next generation of survivors.
For today’s soundtrack, I leave you with Fergie’s Big Girls Don’t Cry: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agrXgrAgQ0U&ob=av2e. Clearly they do.
