Things People Say to People With Cancer

During my stint as caregiver to my mother, I was privileged to accompany mom on her visits to her various doctor appointments. There were many appointments; but, as mom continued to hang on to life, the appointments dwindled. Instead of explaining why those appointments began to shut down, I'll share a few quotes that I heard first-hand from mom's primary physicians and nurses:

• We didn't expect you to live this long (doctor who was treating mom)
• Cremation? Why? You're so beautiful, I thought you'd go the open casket route (nurse).
• You're still with us? (doctor who was summoned for mom's treatment for a second time within four months)
• I can't look at the cancer count. I want to sleep at night (a doctor's answer to my question about mom's cancer advancement).

You get the idea -- out of the mouths of babes scenarios, right? Except the individuals who offered their opinions were professionals. What, then, can cancer patients expect to hear from friends and relatives who aren't professional doctors or nurses?

If you know a cancer victim, please don't try to excuse yourself from making stupid remarks to that person because you're not a professional. If anything, as a friend, relative, or neighbor, you might have a bit more insight into that cancer patient and become more compassionate. At least, that's the hope.

A friend of mine found that sometimes that hope runs slim. Craig Allen has cancer, and he is a realist about his prognosis, and responses to his current treatment option drive him mad. Literally. He's taking hormone treatments that provide him with physical reactions that are similar to menopause hot flashes. When he shares this news with female listeners, they often respond with:

"Ha! Now you know what we go through."

Excuse me? Your menopause hot flashes are similar to my cancer treatments? I'm sharing a link to Craig's justifiable rant. Please read to understand how a simple statement (like "We didn't expect you to live this long") can affect a person who is dying from cancer.

Thank you.

Taking my Gratitude to the Next Level

I'm grateful that mom left a story for me to tell.

I mentioned in a previous post that I began to share a gratitude list every morning on my private Facebook page. I started this practice about three months before mom died. In the beginning, I felt very self-conscious about expressing appreciation for what I had, although now that self-consciousness seems ludicrous.

I was late posting my gratitude a few days. Some days I was up before the rooster crowed, pondering how I could turn things around in my head to show that I was looking at a brighter side. Believe me, some days I really worked hard at this list. I skipped the list for at least five separate days, because I just couldn't shake my funk enough to see the light.

I don't know why I stuck to five items daily. Perhaps that fifth (or fourth, or even third) item on the list really takes some genuine reflection and change of attitude on my part. By the time I'm through with each morning's list, I often gain a tremendous amount of insight into my feelings and motives.

A few of my friends are in the habit of offering up a gratitude list on a daily basis. What I love about these lists is that I get to know that friend just a little bit better because of what she (yes -- usually a she) is going through. A number of friends, even those who don't post a gratitude list, have approached me to tell me how much my lists mean to them. Mostly, they can relate to a lot of things I went through during my time as a caregiver to mom.

I continue to post those lists on a daily basis, and the focus now is more on the aftermath. I can't seem to get my head wrapped around the lists these days, and I think I've reached a threshold. I think I know the cause behind my lackadaisical attitude...I've become less grateful. The habit is now just a habit, and I need to challenge my perspective. As a result, I want to take my list to a new level.

Starting tomorrow, I'll be posting my daily gratitude lists to my Cancer, Caregiving, and Contentious Love public Facebook page. I think this is the right thing to do, because I'm feeling very self-conscious about the move. I realize that many new readers may not know my entire story, and that's another prompt for me to become more aware of my motives and my explanations.

Maybe, after a few weeks, I'll begin to see my new self-consciousness as ludicrous. And, I hope that my habit will help someone else. I would be most grateful if you'd let me know.

A Ritual I Developed During My Caregiver Stint

My ritual is somewhat like a pinata ceremony.

I write these blog entries in hopes that readers won't judge me, as I am bringing my own perspective to topics that deal with a death in my family. Although death is common ground, and should -- above anything -- unite us somehow, I've learned that folks may not agree with my outlook on certain topics. Feel free to disagree; but don't tell me I'm wrong, especially over a ritual that saved my sanity for the past two years.

According to The Chaplaincy Institute, ritual can make a person "stop, focus, and make sacred that which is ordinarily taken for granted. A ritual can be used as a way to give voice to the unspoken, facilitate healing, or remember a person or event. It can also be a way to refocus personal thought patterns so they become self-serving, not self-defeating. A ritual does not need to be elaborate or take a lot of time. In fact, to keep meaning from getting lost, the simpler the better."

That article goes on to provide an example of a ritual that involves an altar, candles, and prayer, which is fitting for that particular perspective. Other rituals I've known caregivers to use include yoga for meditative qualities and also for keeping the body fit. I love yoga practice, and I understand how yoga benefits me. But, I haven't had a class since the last one I took with Terri Hug, and that was before I even learned about my mother's illness. Terri is a sister from another mother, and I'm having a difficult time choosing to take on another yoga instructor after becoming so close with Terri. I need classes, because I don't have the self-discipline to practice alone.

Other caregiver rituals might include a set time each day/week to get away, or time to be alone. In my experience, however, getting away from home was fraught with anxiety, because every time I did leave home, mom would encounter an emergency situation. The only time I was able to get away was during Easter weekend, when some friends kidnapped me to spend a weekend with their poet and bard neighbors. But, that wasn't a ritual, although the escape was sorely needed and appreciated.

My alone time and ritual came about without planning. I still practice it after mom's death, especially when I'm at my folks' house. I leave the house proper to sit in the screened porch with my Android and begin to play Candy Crush Saga. Playing that game in itself is not a ritual; but, playing game #75 over and over and over again became a ritual for me, one that isn't elaborate or that takes a lot of time.

Other friends who play that game continue to offer free passes for me to get past game #130. Yes, that's how far I got before I learned about mom's cholangiocarcinoma. But, I'll never go there again. I doubt if I'll ever get past game #75. If I play the game without thinking about the game, it provides me with time for reflection and planning. If I play the game with intent on beating the other two women who are ahead of me, the play takes me away from everything. The fact that the game only allows play for five games unless the player wins a game (garnering one free game per win) is convenient, too. Once I've played through those five or so games, I'm revitalized and ready to get back to more pertinent tasks at hand.

I play game #75 when traveling, too, because my husband refuses to let me drive. But, the game isn't a ritual then -- in fact, it's boring. The only time Candy Crush Saga game #75 becomes a satisfying ritual is on my parents' back porch. This rite offers me comfort, mindlessness, and even some sense of self-worth and achievement. I am only a few points away from obtaining the #1 spot on that game. When I achieve that goal, I don't know what I'll do.

Note: Candy Crush Saga is a puzzle game distributed by King.com. The logo image is from Wikipedia.

Supporting the Arts & Letters

This is the trailer for Afterthoughts by Lynn Tincher, produced by Dark Palette Productions

I love to support artists. I have supported many writers, musicians, videographers, other authors, poets, crafters, and actors over the years, and it's been my pleasure. Often, the payback is unexpected, like when local author Tony Acree dedicated his latest book, The Watchers, to another local author, Lynn Tincher, and me. What a gift! All I did was tell him to quit editing and keep writing (advice that is difficult for me to follow, by the way -- I was throwing down the gauntlet!).

That's why I'm supporting two artists I know from the get-go with my Indiegogo fundraiser.

1. Michele Larocque is a photographer, writer, poet, and visionary. She is a friend, too. She is creating a trailer for my fundraiser at Indiegogo, and it's in its final stages. You can find her on Facebook.
2. When I was asked to find some music for that trailer, I reached out to my local musician friends. Within 24 hours, neighbor Michael Smith came up with an original track that he's modifying now to fit the trailer. I'm so blessed, because Michael, too, is a visionary and a talented musician. He teaches ukulele, but he's adept at any stringed instrument. He doesn't have a site I can point to; but, if you're a local I can provide you with his number if you want lessons.

The wonderful thing about my Indiegogo campaign is this: Other artists now are supporting me, and I'm thrilled beyond words. My gratitude is tangible...

• I'm mentioning Lynn Tincher again not only because she was a generous donor to my Indiegogo campaign, but because she's also involved in a project that is making tracks. She's creating a film from her first novel, Afterthoughts, and she's having great success with this endeavor. Please support her.
• I met another donor to my campaign, Pearl Ketover Prilik, at Robert Brewer's Poetic Asides, where we've been writing poems side-by-side for a few years now. I taught Pearl how to make a heart with ascii type, and she's been a devoted heart fan since that lesson.
• Speaking of Robert Lee Brewer, he generously offered to be a reference for my applications to writer retreats, and you can purchase his latest poetry, Solving the World's Problems, at Amazon. Michael Dwayne Smith from Mojave River Press & Review also stepped up to offer a reference, as did Kim Michele Richardson (another local), author of The Unbreakable Child and columnist at Huffington Post. Other people who offered their support include Jay Sizemore, author of Father Figures, and Sheri Wright -- a woman who offers a bagful of talent in photography, poetry, writing, and now in documentaries.
• Other donors to my campaign include Penny, who makes jewelry from mushrooms (how creative is THAT), and sells at local markets in Virginia. Another donor, who wishes to remain anonymous, also is a writer and a poet. Yet another donor, Diane, writes AND edits, and she helped me tremendously with the copy on my campaign as well as donated to my cause.

I'm blessed to be surrounded by such giving and creative people, and I haven't even tapped the surface of my well of creative friends. I am VERY blessed. If these individuals have faith in me, then you can have faith in me, too. Visit Cancer, Caregiving, and Contentious Love at Indiegogo.

How about you? Do you create? Do you support creators?