Wednesday, July 11, 2012

A Full Time Cancer Survivor

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.

12 comments:

  1. "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."

    Thank 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.

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    1. 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.

      xoxo
      Katie

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  2. 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!!!

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  3. Thanks Beth, I hadn't heard of this advocacy program. I will definitely look into it.

    Thanks for the very nice words, too.

    Katie

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  4. Katie...

    Once 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

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    1. Thanks AnneMarie.

      I 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!

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  5. 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".

    I'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

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    1. 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??

      Lets plan to rule the world during our next (first??)Skype date.

      Miss you,
      Katie

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    2. Can we Group Skype??? I'm SO there!

      xoxox

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  6. Yes! I'm in. I'm not going to lie, I am slammed this next couple of weeks.

    When are you guys available? I'll try to figure something out.

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  7. Katie...
    Thank 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 :)

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  8. Emma, your words are so sweet. Thank you! I really appreciate you sharing your personal journey with me.

    Writing about my experience has been more therapeutic than I thought possible. But getting messages like yours makes it so worth it.

    Thanks again,

    Katie

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