Guest Post: Engaging with the World

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You may remember a guest post by Anna, author of The Cancer Culture Chronicles Blog which appeared last December on the JBBC blog. The Well Trodden Path was a searingly honest account of living with metastatic breast cancer and many of you responded in the comments with gratitude for Anna’s honesty.

I feel that Anna has so much to say to all of us. In our recent e-mail correspondence I told Anna how much she has done to awaken me to her reality. Before meeting  Anna online, hers was a place I didn’t want to go to. Hers is the reality of cancer we don’t want to face. And then there is the question of what to say to Anna? How does it not come out sounding trite and clichéd?  (I guess that is why so often people say nothing!). But what of the Annas of this world? Are they destined to feel isolated and marginalized as a result of society’s inability to deal with her reality?

And so Anna has generously agreed to continue our dialogue in a way that you can all follow through another of her eloquent guest posts.

Here in her own words, is Anna’s story….

quillEngaging with the World

Last week I was informed that my cancer has progressed further.  In the grand scheme of things this latest bit of news wasn’t really a surprise, and my beloved and I are now preparing to face this latest challenge and the realities of a new and more aggressive chemotherapy regimen.  This is the world of metastatic cancer.  It is what it is and you continue to move forward as best you can. 

Besides dealing with the realities of the disease itself, I find one of the hardest things is not only telling people, but deciding who to tell.  As I made my phone calls and sent my emails this last weekend, I realized something.  That list of “people to tell” is much shorter than it was when I was first diagnosed in 2004.  

Over the years, friends have fallen away.  Many just don’t know what to say or do.  But in many respects, I am exactly the same way.  I don’t know what to say either.  Do I really want to go there? Do they? It takes energy to explain myself, my disease, my treatments, my emotions.  On top of all that, I often find myself trying to comfort the other person when I see that feeling of dread come over them. In some ways, it’s just easier to disengage.  

But as difficult as it has been to maintain old friendships, making news friends seems equally hard.  I have become extremely wary.  I understand that for someone to “take me on” requires a huge emotional investment that, quite frankly, very few people are prepared to make whether consciously or not.  On many levels I do understand this.  My life is lived in a parallel universe that many people can’t begin to comprehend.  To my beloved and I, this is our “normal” for lack of a better word. For us, dealing with my breast cancer is literally a full-time job from which there are no vacations.  So to know me is to embrace me;  breast cancer and all. 

Surprising as this might sound, I’ve even struggled to interact with other women dealing with breast cancer.  I know that my situation represents a fear that resides in anyone who has known a cancer diagnosis.  This is why I generally don’t talk to other women when I go to chemotherapy. “When is your last treatment?” they always want to know.  How do I look them straight in the eye and say that it’s never going to be over for me? I’ve seen that fear in their faces too many times, and experienced those awkward moments of silence whilst they ponder the gravity of what I have just told them.  It’s too hard, so I just pretend to sleep.  

But you can’t pretend to sleep forever.  I realized this last year.  I felt lonely and frustrated and there were things I wanted to say. I was angry and I needed to talk to women who understood me. All of a sudden I woke up one morning and decided my voice needed to be heard. It was time for me to engage with the world. 

I started putting energy into my blog writing, seeking out, and interacting with other breast cancer bloggers.  I joined Facebook and Twitter.  I inserted myself into the conversation.  I made meaningful connections with a wonderful community of women who felt the same way I did.  I realized they were listening.  They were interested to hear my viewpoints, as a younger woman living with metastatic disease. They weren’t scared of me.  A whole new world opened up and the splendid fortress of solitude I had so carefully constructed for myself began to crumble.  Here I was back in the world.  Metastatic “warts” and all. 

I consciously made an effort to engage with the world.  It is the best thing I’ve done for myself in a very long time.  You can too; it’s never too late. 

Come and join the conversation.  Trust me; you’ll be welcomed with open arms.

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