WORDS OF WISDOM

  

 Susan Gubar is a distinguished emerita professor of English at Indiana University and the author of “Memoir of a Debulked Woman,” which explores her experience with ovarian cancer. She also writes a blog called “Living With Cancer” at well.blogs.nytimes.com/author/susan-gubar.   One of her recent blogs began as follows: 

“Some cancer patients adopt a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy with their doctors. Either they are more afraid or more brave than I am. I keep on asking, though the telling sometimes jolts me.

“How long do you think these pills will work?” I ask about the experimental drug trial in which I participate.

“About six months,” my oncologist says.

“What do we do then?” I am trying not to look upset.

“There are chemo options,” she explains.

“For how long?” I persist.

“For as long as they work,” she smiles.

“My doctor would probably not volunteer such disturbing information, but she responds to my inquiries with an honesty on which I depend. Still, the conversation resembles a catechism. I have posed these queries before, heard the responses before, and been shocked by them before. She bears with me.”

I’ve done the very same thing, but in different words. I like to use euphemism “slippery slope” – as in, “Have I started sliding down the slope yet?”  So far the answer has always been a resounding “No!”  I know the slope is there and I know my medical team of angels is too honest to lie to me, so I don’t ask as frequently as I used to.  See – “don’t ask, don’t tell.”   We all have different worries and questions about the future and, in all fairness, the oncologists don’t always know the answer. And knowing me, I would definitely read much more into the “I really don’t have an answer to that” expression – probably something like you have 8 minutes to live! I have such an annoyingly vivid imagination. 

I used to sleep through the night – most nights anyway since I no longer have little ones calling me to exorcise the ghosts from under their beds – and no bigger ones testing their curfews.  Now I seem to have an inner alarm that goes off about 3:00 AM.  That’s about the time when the trailers of future blockbusters run through my head.  All the unasked questions, all the gruesome rumors I’ve heard but am afraid to Google (in case they might be true), all the alarming coming attractions that may or may not ever be seen.  

 These thoughts try to break through during the daytime also, but there’s always something to chase them away.  I get up and look at the ever-changing ocean and all my beautiful and entertaining birds.  Sometimes I just put a load of laundry in or plan dinner – something mundane to chase away the goblins.  But in the pitch black of the early morning hours, distractions are more difficult to find.  Somehow my husband seems to have a sixth sense and will usually respond with one arm thrown across me and a gentle squeeze, letting me know he’s there with me and for me – even if he can’t see the film playing in my head! 

Since my current goal is to drag myself out of that pit of quicksand (and midnight showings of my personal horror movies) on my way to the mythical Phoenix, I have been searching for something to grasp – something to latch onto and lift me up.  For the past 4 years and 11 months since my diagnosis, I have tried hundreds of coping mechanisms.  Novenas to St. Anthony and St. Jude, and a few other saints I’d never heard of before, Yoga classes, meditation, exercise, relaxation, visualization, manicures & pedicures (don’t laugh), less wine, more wine, comedy movies. You name it and I’ve probably tried it (not the macrobiotic route though).  Anything that involves giving up my wine would never work.  After all, Quality of Life is important, too!

Yesterday, looking for a distraction, I decided to sort and file a stack of bills, receipts, and general “whatever.”  I came across a paper I had printed quite a while ago.  It was a mixture of sayings and short prayers that I had accumulated from a bunch of different sources.  They had so moved me at the time that I put them all on one piece of paper intending to use it every day to keep me on track.  Like so many other things in my life, it wound up at the bottom of a pile of other good intentions.  Some of these are from a very dear friend of mine who tries her very best to keep me healthy, happy, and positive. I would like to share them with you.  Whether you’re fighting cancer, or living with it, or just trying to get through each day, I hope you will find something here that will make the journey more tranquil and serene!  Just reading these has already begun to work for me!  Thank you Lois!!!

• “If there is anyone or anything that has hurt you in the past – forgive and release it.    If you have hurt anyone or anything in the past, forgive yourself and release it.  If you have hurt yourself in the past, forgive yourself and release it.”
• Stay connected to yourself!

• Notice how you are feeling but do not judge your feelings!

• Keep finding that place of hope within yourself!

• Focus less on waiting and on what may happen and live in the present!

• Take time out twice a day to find that place of peace within yourself.  Find oneness with the Divine.

TIP FOR THE DAY:

Today may there be peace within.  May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.  May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.  May you use the gifts that you have received and pass on the love that has been given to you.  May you be content with yourself just the way you are.  Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise, and love.  It is there for each and every one of us.  God Bless!