How To Talk To A Person With Cancer

                                           

The very first rule if someone you care about has cancer, is not to NOT talk to them. I have a couple of friends who've avoided me since they heard the news. I saw one of them the other day and he said, "I'm sorry I haven't been around to see you but I didn't know what to say."

I told him, "say exactly what you would have said if you didn't know."

I'm not shy about it and I'll answer any questions anyone may have but it's not exactly my favorite subject either. I'd rather hear about your kids, your grandkids, your pets, your job or your vacation.

I'm not going to make things awkward for you by throwing myself sobbing into your arms. I'm not a crier. (I'm much more likely to curse than cry). I'm not looking for pity or sympathy. Just treat me like you always did.

Here are some things people have actually said to me:

"I'm sorry you're dying."

Me "Well, you're probably not half as sorry as I am."

I had lunch with a friend and saw a tear trickling down her cheek. I asked what twas wrong was and she said, "you're going to die."

Me: "Yeah, but I think we have time to finish our lunch first."

One woman spent 20 minutes talking about how she'd lost her sister to cancer the year before and how excruciating it was at the end.

No, that's not really the conversation I want to have.

Another person told me, "what do you expect after all those years of smoking?"

"Well," I said, lighting up a cigarette, "we all have to die of something, don't we? Even you."

As I've said before,  I appreciate those who've told me they are praying for me even if I don't believe exactly as they do, I think the prayers of someone who cares about you,surround you with a positive aura....but, please don't try to convert me at the last minute by telling me I'll descend into burning hell if I don't accept Jesus (or whoever) into my heart.

Is that something you can just decide to do even if you don't feel it? Doesn't conversion have to be genuine for it to really mean anything? Can you say okay just to play it safe and cover your bases? That doesn't sound religious to me but rather, mercenary.

Another thing I really, really do appreciate is the suggestions people give me for overcoming cancer. I know they have my best interests at heart,  but at this point, if I swallowed all the pills and ate all the herbs and scarfed down all the fruits (some of which I've never heard of and drank all the potions and added seaweed to my diet and rubbed myself with magic cream from Australia, my whole life would revolve around cancer. I don't want it to do that.

I don't want it to be the main thought my life revolves around but rather, just an after thought, that will bring what it will bring.

I'm Lucky

                                                        

Well, here I am checking in. So far, so good. I went to see my family doctor yesterday and told her I feel fine. She was surprised at how good I looked and sounded compared to the last time I was there three months ago. She sent me to the lab for bloodwork and it turned out that she lowered my blood pressure medication and took away one of my diabetic medications altogether. I've lost another 20 or so pounds which she said helps with both diabetes and high blood pressure. Before I left, she said, "go home and keep doing it your way." I said, "I usually do," and we both laughed.

She said there is no predictable time table for cancer. I could go on like this for quite a while or I could go to hell in a handbasket next week. C'est la vie.

Here is one thing I've definitely noticed since I was diagnosed: my metabolism has completely flipped in several ways. For instance, my internal thermostat was always set on "hot". Mom and I used to go behind one another's backs to change the temperature. I always turned it down and she always turned it up. If we were still living together, I would now be in total agreement with her on the ideal setting.

I have a big fleecy robe I've had for years but never wore because I always got too warm in it. Last winter, I wore it every day.

My appetite has dwindled to almost nothing and my tastes have changed. I used to be a sweet lover - fudge, chocolate cake, sugar cream pie. Now I prefer fruit to sweets. I was also a beef and pork lover but now I don't like the dense, heavy meats as well. My favorite meal now is fish.

Sometimes, I have to force myself to eat or I get dizzy and blinky-eyed. I look at the clock and say to myself, "It's 3:00 p.m. - you've got to eat something." Usually, I end up fixing soup because its the quickest and easiest.

I think the little aide at the clinic was taken aback by my macabre humor when I told her, "I'll probably get that svelte figure I've lusted after for 60 years just before they shove me into the crematory."

My whole life, I could lie down and fall instantly to sleep. Pain didn't keep me awake and neither did worry.

No more. Now I don't have much pain or much worry but I toss and turn sometimes for hours before I go to sleep. On the other hand, I loved my afternoon naps. People knew not to call me between two and four because I was probably napping. I never take naps anymore.

Over all, I consider myself lucky. I have a wonderful support system of friends, which includes my doctor and my dog and three cats. I can still do all the things I love to do most. I sleep 'til the sun comes up, then open the big door so the animals and I can watch the bird feeders. I get my coffee and cigarettes and head for the computer. I write on my column and blogs and books. I read my Kindle and watch politics and NASCAR and the Outlander on t.v. I argue with with people on Facebook.

I'm not trying to encourage anyone to follow the same path I'm following. It would only work for people who can accept their situation and their own mortality. If you would fret and stress about when and where and how and why and what comes next, then it's better to put your fate in the hands of the medical profession.

God's Lottery

                                                            


My father was what he called a half-assed Catholic. I never knew him to go to church but he clung enough to his religion to want a priest when he died. (That didn't happen because he was already dead when Mom found him but we did have a priest speak at his service).

Mom was raised as what she called a Shoutin' Baptist but she had no belief that I knew of. She was, however, something of a Bible scholar. I still have her 23 Bibles - Catholic, Protestant, Amish, Jewish, the Book of Mormon, King James, the Living Bible. People came to her when they had Bible questions. She liked to compare one to the other to see where they differed.

My family paid lip service to sending us to church but they weren't "religious" about it. We were mostly Christmas and Easter Catholics. I don't think any of us were ever baptized.

Most of our folks leaned toward believing in reincarnation, which doesn't necessarily conflict with being a Christian. I think my mother had read everything that had ever been written about it and there is some pretty persuasive evidence for anyone who cares to look. I mostly favor it because it makes an on-going learning process in which you have the opportunity to grow and improve rather than the single roll of a roulette wheel.

"Hey, lucky you, you're Ivanka Trump."

"Hey, you're a black girl in a ghetto being raised by a crack whore. Sorry about your luck."

Several members of my family were psychic. Again, I know many people think this is all hogwash but if you'd seen some of the things I saw, you'd have a hard time simply dismissing it out of hand.

I consider myself an agnostic. I just say I don't know and I don't think anyone else does either. Devout people all believe they know the answers but what religion you are is mostly a product of your environment. If you were raised in America, especially 70 years ago when I was, you're most likely a Christian but if you'd been born in India, you probably be just as passionately attached to Hinduism or depending on your place of birth, to Buddhism or Islam or whatever.

Lots of people have told me they are praying for me. Some, who know I don't share their beliefs, ask if I care.

I tell them, "of course, I don't care. I welcome any gesture of kindness and concern."

I do have many questions about how they think it works though and I never get any satisfactory answers.

Number one is how their God decides. People on Facebook are always asking for prayer and if everything works out, they then say God hears us and answers our prayers. But, of course, we know he doesn't answer everyone prayers. Your neighbor's child dies of leukemia; your aunt's child is mangled in a war; your co-workers child is killed in a car wreck. Did they not pray hard enough? Did they not have enough friends praying for them on Facebook?  Is it all arbitrary, like God's lottery?

In the Catholic church crucifixion scenes are everywhere. When I was a kid, I thought they were creepy and I still do. Did it truly make people happy and grateful to see an agonized man hanging on a cross? What would you think if your best friend said, "I love you so much, I'm going to kill my child for you." Would you think that was proof of true love or would you think he was crazy?  It always seemed brutal and cruel to me. What kind of God would do that? If love means crucifying a man on a cross, please don't do me any favors.

I don't believe in a devil and I don't believe in hell. Again, what kind of god would punish his "children's" mistakes by throwing them in a burning inferno - not for a day or a week or a month, but forever? I can't believe in that God.

I always hear people on television say, "I never would have made it through without my faith."

Yes, you would. I took care of my mother with dementia for 2 1/2 years. Shortly after she died, I lost my son to a heroin overdose. Those were tough times. And you know what? I made it through about as well as anyone can. You know why? Because, unless you're going to kill yourself, you keep putting one foot in front of the other and carrying on.

Religious people think I have no faith but that's not true. I have faith that if you're as good and generous and kind as you know how to be, it doesn't matter what you believe. You'll either go to heaven with the god you believe in or you'll go to a spiritual world to evaluate how you lived and prepare to return or everything will just go black. I'm content with any of those scenarios.