I remember when I had just finished treatment, people would ask, 'So, when 
are you going back to work?'. I think those who have never had cancer assumed 
that I would be back a few weeks after my last treatment while those who have 
had cancer kept saying to me 'Don't go back too soon. I went back too soon and I 
regretted it.' It ended up that one year was the right amount of time for 
me.
I remember asking my oncology surgeon how long I would need to be off from 
work (expecting her to say three or four months) and when she said it would be 
about a year, I was in shock. I can't take a year off work! I can't afford to 
take a year off work! Who is going to cover me? How am I supposed to keep my 
student loan payment schedule? I can't substitute a full time, paying job with 
cancer, I'll go crazy. And eventually, I slowly realized that I had to become 
the priority, not my job, not my employer, not my student loans but my health, 
it needs to be the priority. And while I was off, although I felt some guilt, I 
did learn that the time I was taking was to heal and it was necessary not 
optional.
My decision to go back was an easy one. I felt ready, I needed a routine 
again that didn't involve chemo or hospitals or needles. I needed to be needed 
again - a feeling that I missed ever since I was diagnosed. So, a year after I 
left, I went back to my job. I started with 20 hours a week and increased five 
hours a week until I was full time again. As I gradually started back, it was 
easy to distinguish between who I was as a person and what I do as a job. Before 
cancer, I worked a lot, usually about 45-50 hours a week, and although I was 
often too tired to go out after work, and many times vegging on the couch was 
what I did most week nights, I liked working. After I went back to work this 
past March, I vowed that I would never let myself get like that again. I know 
how precious life can be, I know how important relationships are and how 
unimportant 'stuff' is and no matter how much money you make, it will never be 
enough.
I've now been back to work now for three months. I love having a routine, I 
certainly don't think I went back too early, and I feel like I'm being depended 
on - all aspects of work that I really missed while I was off. But sometimes I 
struggle with being a full time employee and a full time cancer survivor. 
Although for everyone 'else' cancer is over, for me it's just beginning. This is 
the best way I know how to describe it - when I was first diagnosed, I was numb 
and while everyone around me was 'freaking out', I was able to ground myself, 
look at what had to be done and do it. While everyone else was trying to process 
what was going on, I was in fight or flight mode. I didn't have a chance to 
process what was happening to me. While I was in chemo, I felt like saying 
'Well, yes, I am 'technically' in chemo, but it's just a precaution' because for 
me, I treated it like it wasn't that serious, I guess it was a coping mechanism. 
Then, when treatment ended and everyone else took a huge sigh of relief, I 
looked back at the passed six months and thought 'Holy shit! I just had cancer.' 
Now while everyone else is moving on, I feel like I am just starting to deal 
with it now. I am not faced with nearly as many physical challenges now as I was 
and now I am dealing with the emotional challenges that got pushed to the side 
while I was dealing with the vomiting, the bone pain, the PICC line, the hair 
loss, the no-boob and so on and so on. Like I said, I find it exhausting to be 
both a full time employee and a full time cancer survivor (not to mention the 
chemo-recovery fatigue and the Tamoxifen fatigue).
I'm writing this blog entry today to say that I feel like I have failed at 
being the 'good cancer survivor' that I set out to be. This week I am working a 
seven day week. I swore that I would never do that to myself again and here I 
am, in that situation. Why is it that when we're in the thick of things, we're 
surrounded by clarity but when we're in a less chaotic, more routine-like way of 
life, we forget to stop and smell the roses. I've broken so many promises to 
myself now that I'm 'better' and I know in the long run that I will be the one 
who pays for it. I like my job and I have great co-workers but I have turned 
into the person that I promised myself that I wouldn't. For what? Money? And, I 
think I can speak for many survivors when I say, after having cancer, you feel 
an obligation to give back and to make a difference for the next person who is 
about to face what you faced. I want to come home from work feeling like I've 
helped someone get through a rough cancer day. I want to work in the cancer 
field helping people. Now, all of a sudden, my current job doesn't seem as 
fulfilling as it did pre-cancer.
I'm not trying to imply that I think everyone should quit their jobs and live 
on love but there needs to be a balance between who you are and what you do. I 
need to worry about me as much as I worry about money and student loans and car 
payment. I need to do something that makes me happy. When is the last time you 
asked yourself that? Instead of doing what is expected of me or what I'm 
supposed to do or what I have to do, what could I do that makes me happy? It's 
so easy to get caught up in our day to day lives, that we end up letting our 
life pass us by. I mean, it's already July! Didn't we just ring in the New Year? 
I feel like I'm watching my life pass me by instead of living it. We only get 
one crack at this whole life thing and mine was almost taken from me last year. 
I know better than to let my life control me instead of the other 
way around.
 
"Why is it that when we're in the thick of things, we're surrounded by clarity but when we're in a less chaotic, more routine-like way of life, we forget to stop and smell the roses."
ReplyDeleteThank you for this honest, real and thoughtful post Katie. You speak to my constant questioning when you pose the above interrogative. As challenging as the time in active Cancer World was, I also experienced a sense of grounding and clarity which faded a bit more with each month I returned further to "normal" life. How to keep this healthy sense priorities, insight and "being" in the world of "doing" is a constant challenge.
Thanks for the comfort in numbers - glad to not be alone with this. Cheers.
Oh Annette, thank you! I am such a huge believer in comfort in numbers so thanks for letting me know that I'm not alone as well.
Deletexoxo
Katie
If you are not already...you need to become an American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network (ACS CAN) Advocate! With your passion, your story, your want to help others...people will listen to you and you can make a difference! www.acscan.org for more information!!!
ReplyDeleteThanks Beth, I hadn't heard of this advocacy program. I will definitely look into it.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the very nice words, too.
Katie
Katie...
ReplyDeleteOnce again, You Nailed It!
For me, I'm great in a crisis, during a crisis and then I crash. It's PTSD for me. I had to walk away from my real job when I couldn't do the numbers any longer. Very hard when doing high level accounting and "number issues" from chemobrain.
Thus I embarked on a new career path. I've found immeasurable joy in volunteering and the blog has connected me with so many people and opened many doors. None of it is paying a damn bill but to be fair, that's not been a focal point.
Good for you, Katie.... You stopped yourself ... you realized what was happening and you put the brakes on.....
You continue to amaze me. So young, so beautiful and SO WISE!
xoxox
AnneMarie
Thanks AnneMarie.
DeleteI am really trying to re-evaluate my place in this world. If I've learned anything, I know that cancer is something you can't control but what I do with my life and how I choose to live it is only up to me! I need to start making changes.
Big hugs!
Hello Sweet Girl! Thank you for sharing this post. Sadly, I can totally relate and how you're feeling is so damn normal and SO under appreciated, I want to join you in screaming it from the rooftops - "It AIN'T over when treatment ends".
ReplyDeleteI'm back in North America and would love to have a big-ass catch up with you. I have an idea up my sleeve and would love to have you as part of the next adventure.
Hugs and hope you find a bit of balance this weekend.
T
xo
cvfianbiownbifghnsodig <----- That's my sheer excitement to see your name on my comments. I miss your face and your smile and the smell of your hair, ok ok, that's too far isn't it??
DeleteLets plan to rule the world during our next (first??)Skype date.
Miss you,
Katie
Can we Group Skype??? I'm SO there!
Deletexoxox
Yes! I'm in. I'm not going to lie, I am slammed this next couple of weeks.
ReplyDeleteWhen are you guys available? I'll try to figure something out.
Katie...
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing such an amazing post.Many years ago,my best friend was struggling with cancer,she was literally a different person almost everyday,that was one thing that confused me the most,but,amazingly,while she was suffering from those mood swings,she never stopped giving me and everyone around HOPE,I was emotionally struggling back then with my personal life, and her words were like magic that gave me power to get on feet again and move on...Now,we both are survivors,each in a different way.She never believes me when I say that she was my rescue,simply,with her attitude and words.
Words are so powerful that they can defeat souls or guide them to find their way.
I want to thank you for your honest,powerful,yet so simple words and i also want you to know that when you share your own experiences with everyone,you are capable of changing lives,simply with your words.Believe me you are! Thanks :)
Emma, your words are so sweet. Thank you! I really appreciate you sharing your personal journey with me.
ReplyDeleteWriting about my experience has been more therapeutic than I thought possible. But getting messages like yours makes it so worth it.
Thanks again,
Katie