Life-full or Life-less?

One of the professionals I hired a couple of weeks ago for my book project* wondered out loud what my energy level would be at my usual 100% if what he was experiencing was my compromised 60-70%.   It’s meant to be a compliment (I think!)   

*  Yes, I have a book coming out in just a few weeks written entirely during treatment and it’s NOT about cancer!!  It’s called “Scale Your Small Business: The Definitive Guide to a Sustainable Business and Fulfilling Life”.  As one of our friends commented in disbelief: “Oh, so you just thought you’d take on a side-project while going through major cancer treatments???”  😊

This reminded me of the consistent reaction when meeting friends over the past year, commenting that I appeared ‘normal’ minus hair of course. They anticipated a scrawny, pale and lifeless me battling cancer. I don’t blame them because I myself expected the same – a beat-up, tired and worn shell – for a while anyhow. To my surprise and my friends’, we cancer patients have a lot more life in us than many expect perhaps – all in relative terms of course.  True, we are not in our best shape, look and fitness, yet our compromised selves have their own ambitions. One such was a workshop I attended organized by Look Good, Feel Better (LGFB) a couple of months ago. The workshops are ongoing events and teach cancer patients about how to wear makeup safely when our bodies are extra sensitive to the sun and germs and viruses (and many other unnamed things) and how to wear wigs/head coverings etc.  Some hadn’t lost their hair yet, some had lost it all (me included) and some hadn’t even started any chemo but were anticipating shortly.  I was curious about how other women walk the same journey as me and how they face all the challenges in their own individual ways.  There is comfort in numbers.  

We all looked different: some came with their hairless heads (stark even to me), some with beanies and toques and some others with full hair (real or not). Some had a lot more interest in trying to protect their pre-cancer image, some with lesser ambition, and others fully accepting the new norm. Regardless, everyone was dealing with it, bravely or not.  

A lot of people have mentioned that I am brave amidst all these cancer treatments.  I’m still trying to understand what that means.  As if I had a choice.  I didn’t, did I? To survive and live (ideally with full health) is before anything an instinct, not a desire. I don’t know if bravery is needed for instinct.  

So brave or not, at different stages of our cancer journey, we react and respond to the disease and its treatments in our own ways. I decided to walk the journey more publicly through this blog than I would have chosen normally. What pointed me in that direction? Processing and sharing my journey openly demystifies the disease, especially how I deal with it, and I embrace the empathy and support that come along. I don’t know the full motivation, but it has been a blessing as I feel more connected with the universe. We are not alone in this world. Division, hate and extremism happen when we’re isolated and think in alone terms. Unity, love and harmony should be the way of our lives and it comes when we interact, listen and share!  

Eleven months into my cancer treatments, we assessed my energy levels and have decided that we’d take a trip to Arizona between two chemo sessions (3 weeks apart). One thing that moved from theory to reality for me is that my life cannot be taken for granted. So, we’ll take the plunge, and we will deal with any medical challenges if they show up while we’re on the road.  We also packed about zillions of pill bottles, some regular and others in the case of various side effects. We probably cannot do the full day 32km return hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and we probably cannot do some other things either.  But that’s ok.  I embraced ‘acceptance’ at the beginning of the journey and so I shall continue. For I am grateful that we can enjoy nature. It too is part of the bigger universe that we need to make part of our bigger selves.