Topic of Cancer

Posted by fxckfeelings on March 26, 2012

Cancer that doesn’t kill you can nevertheless leave you with permanent damage and fears, but if you feel it’s necessary to reverse that damage or stop the fear before life re-starts, you’re taking on a fight with cancer you can’t win. Instead, try to remember the values you care about that apply to anyone and don’t depend on mental state or performance—being kind, doing your work, balancing your commitments—and take pride in pursuing them regardless. Now that you’re lucky enough to have a life after cancer, don’t allow cancer to run it or ruin it.
–Dr. Lastname

I am a 55-year-old mother, grandmother and graphic designer who was so, so, so lucky to have survived lung cancer seven years ago! But somehow in the process it has frozen me and I seem to have forgotten how to live. I mean there are dim memories and quiet, inside voices that keep pointing out my life is passing me by but I am frozen from action and I don’t know why or how. A small voice keeps looping, “Let your light shine” but again, I don’t know how. I also have fairly active rheumatoid arthritis but it’s not a big deal in comparison to lung cancer. What it mostly has meant is that I haven’t worked full-time for a few years so money is extremely tight and I want many things; mostly to travel, to be able to help my family financially, get a small house of my own…I’ve always been told that I’m artistically very talented but in reality I produce nothing anymore. What is wrong with me? Can you give me any clues or even one small place to start from? I don’t want to be hopeless and I feel that I’m not. I do still have hope but I keep drawing a blank on how to begin.

Based on what you’ve said, I suspect that, like many artists, you never used to have a problem structuring your own time because your creativity always did it for you. Inspiration begets motivation begets organization, etc.

If that’s true, then what’s troubling you now may be that you’ve lost that capacity, either as a result of depression or chemotherapy or both. You can still be creative, you just can’t do something about it as easily as you used to.

I doubt that lung cancer alone could take the wind out of your sails since you’ve lived a full life, raised a family, and have many goals in life. You’re simply becalmed by illness and can’t get going again.

I also assume that, if you were simply depressed, you’d know it. I trust you’re not one of those foolish people who refuse to acknowledge they’re depressed because they’ve been so fortunate that they don’t have the right to feel bad. Just in case, however, remember that depression is no respecter of causality or control. It strikes the lucky and unlucky alike, and it’s actually more unfair to the unlucky, because it gives them a double burden of feeling guilty for feeling bad.

So I won’t suggest that you try the usual treatments for a depression you don’t have. I will suggest, however, that there are lots of treatments for those who can’t get going but really want to. What usually prevents people from accessing those treatments is the shame of admitting they need them and asking for help. Sometimes, of course, it’s the fact that you can’t get going, whether it’s working creatively or on your own health.

Pretend you’ve acquired a neurologic handicap (which is probably not a fiction) so that it’s not a moral failing and/or something you should be able to cure. Then start talking about it with friends and/or a coach while drawing up a list of what you would most want to do if you felt like doing anything. As usual, draw on your values when your feelings have nothing to say, i.e., if you don’t feel motivated, let your own standards for productivity push you along.

Don’t assume you can regain your creative independence. Instead, explore the possibility that, if you bind yourself to a more structured schedule, including the possible schedule of a crappy job, you may find yourself more productive and at least a little richer.

Success shouldn’t be defined as being able to regain your old self. You’ve got strong priorities, and success is finding tricks to salvage as many of those priorities as possible. Motivation and organization might be lacking, but determination is still there.

STATEMENT:
“I may never get back my get up and go, but I know where I want to go and I’m old and wily and know some good people. My motor may no longer start itself, but I can jump-start it or get a tow. In any case, I won’t stop trying.”

My wife drives me crazy because she won’t take care of her illness. She should be getting follow-up for the breast cancer she had ten years ago, but she hates doctors and likes to immerse herself in her work. If I try to arrange appointments for her, she breaks them. It’s actually hard to tear her away from her work for any reason and, when I do, she complains about how hard she’s trying to make money for all of us and how she doesn’t get enough support, blah blah blah. I don’t like worrying more about her health than she does, treating her like a kid, or facing the possibility of her having a relapse that could have been prevented. My goal is to get her to take responsibility for herself.

You’re always on dangerous ground when you want to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, particularly when their problem hurts others (like you) as well as themselves, and they see your advice as critical and ill-intentioned. If your efforts were successful, however, my business wouldn’t be.

You could argue that it’s natural for a cancer survivor to want to avoid thinking about the disease and that time with a shrink might help her to confront her denial. Yes, that would be true in another universe, the one in which people who won’t talk to their spouses or physicians actually keep their shrink appointments and talk about something other than being unfairly pressured by their spouses. In this universe, another goal is required.

Since you aren’t going to change your spouse and/or drag her to a shrink, prepare to manage her irresponsible, work-addicted behavior the same way you would with anyone who has a behavior problem they can’t own or control. Stop trying to talk her into seeing things your way. Instead, decide for yourself what’s fair and whether you can act independently, according to your own idea of what’s right.

Don’t support her workaholism unless you think it’s necessary. If overwork keeps her from dinner, fun, or family vacations, keep to your own schedule and express regret at her inability to attend. If she complains about your lack of sympathy, remind her that you believe in a different set of priorities, one that would be better for her as well as the family. You’re not trying to punish her or leave her out in the cold; you simply have a different idea of how people should take care of themselves.

It’s reasonable to hope that detached firmness will exert more pressure than anguished pleadings, particularly as time passes and the unbalanced nature of your wife’s behavior takes its toll. In any case, by accepting her avoidant behaviors as unavoidable, you’ll reduce their impact on your own life, even if you can’t save her from herself.

STATEMENT:
“I hate worrying about my wife’s health, but I will accept the fact that her avoidant behavior is a bigger problem and one I can’t change. I will do my best to prevent her behavior from controlling my life and I will continue to let her know, in a positive way, that her life would be better if she could get her priorities straight.”