It’s been an interesting week. Out of over 40 patients with whom I interacted (grammer for my English teacher friends), everyone was very chill. Once upon a time you would have thought that a cancer diagnosis was the worst that could happen. They didn’t even use the word, just whispered in hushed tones , “The big C!” Now friends discuss as if they are buying a new pair of workout sneaks, “Where you going? What chemo are you on? Here is the cream that helped me”. It’s part of everyday conversation. Are we jaded? No, just maturing. Plus we don’t have the band width to get all unnerved.
Annabell has bilateral mastectomies, finished chemo before Christmas and is into the radiation part of ”the show”. She is not all wide eyed about side effects, “Hit me with your best shot, Doc” (Thanks Sheena). Terrance wants to discuss the hot flashes on hormones for prosate cancer, otherwise he is also shrugging off this adventure and heading out to play golf. Mitch is unimpressed (but I am!) by his neglected large skin cancer. I look to his wife who just shrugs. He says, “What’s up, Doc?’ I check myself for bunny ears.
These seniors have all lived a long life traversing tough terrains, battled demons, managed more mess than we could imagine. Even those with carefree, charmed lives have navigated rough waters to succeed and refuse to be sidelined by drama. What is amazingly evident to me, this post holiday week, is resilience and fortitude.
Moving from room to room, like crowd surfing, these amazing people are collectively boosting the Doctor with their strength. What always impresses me is how each is taking their situation in stride. They show up for chemo, for radiation, to discuss scans and biopsies. Ella even works two jobs with treatment sandwiched. No one is falling apart or even saying, “Woe is me”. So much to admire and learn.
After weeks of treatments, many patients own the space. They know where to change, how to get on the table, where to find the nurse for help with care. There are no timid steps. They have smiles for the staff and by the time they ring the bell to signal end of therapy, they have a swagger accompanying the relief.
As this cancer journey becomes more common in our own families and friends, have no concern. Diagnosis (even from blood work now), and treatment are evolving swiftly. Cutting edge changes are on the horizon. Take Liz, who returns for care. She was in very serious trouble nine years ago. Life conspired for her as each time she developed another problem or metastasis, a new therapy was available. “Hey, Doc! Surprised to see me?’ Actually, with her spunck and attitude? No. As with Liz, longer lives, even with metastatic disease, often bring patients into care multiple times. “Yea, I got this” they say. Like Tanya who has been treated to breast, bone, liver, lung and brain! She is full of vigor and spirit and could now run the department. Lifestyles evolve to manage cancer as a chronic disease.
When you or a loved one is facing a new trial, have confidence that the sky is actually not falling. In fact, as in every aspect of your life, the sky is still the limit.