Before starting this post, I looked up the word trauma in the American Heritage Dictionary and found 3 definitions, all of which relate to having cancer.
Definition 1: A serious injury or shock to the body, as from violence or an accident.
Well that pretty much sums up the surgery, now doesn’t it? Nothing is really more shocking, physically and psychologically, than seeing yourself in the mirror that first time after surgery. I know I was especially shocked at just how much tissue is gone. In my mind I guess I had pictured it looking more like what a boy’s chest looks like, but it’s not. It’s concave. I have a hard time imagining now what it will look like when I get my foob (yes I’m finally getting around to it). I’m 34 years old, stuck in the body of a menopausal 80 year old. I actually had to get a bigger pill box. 5 Colace a day will do that to you.
Definition 2: An emotional wound or shock that creates substantial, lasting damage to the psychological development of a person, often leading to neurosis.
Isn’t that the truth? Sometimes I think what cancer does to our psyche is as bad or worse than what it does to our bodies. We don’t trust our bodies anymore. Any new pain must mean it’s spreading. You’re dizzy, it’s spreading. You get a paper cut, you’re sure to get lymphedema (take that elementary school rating!). We don’t look too far into the future anymore. I know I pretty much live week to week with a few exceptions. You start making lists in your head of how many years you need. How many years do I need to live so my kids don’t need me anymore. 15 years? 20 years? I want all my years, damn it. (Take that! again elementary school rating.) Heck, I still need my parents and I’m in my 30s. My family tends to live on into their 90s. I always thought I would too. I still intend to. (Ugh. Now I’m having a hot flash. Hooray chemopause.)
Definition 3: An event or situation that causes great distress and disruption.
Oh the freak outs. And yes, there are freakouts. I worry that I am a bad mommy because I’m too damned tired to do the things I know I should be doing. Agent J should be going to bed on his own. He should also be potty trained. Instead I let Big J take the brunt of the bedtime and I’m pretty much ignoring the potty. Even then I still cave and cuddle with my baby boy when I want to. Agent L should be cleaning her room and helping out more around the house. But I’m too tired. Cancer is disrupting my time with my children. And I’m pretty angry about that.
Another side effect of cancer that I haven’t read about much is the relationships you form with other cancer patients. It’s like when you buy a new car and you see it everywhere you go. Once you have the baldy cancer badge, you meet people all the time. There are also the others that you seek out. I think this is an important part of the cancer process but it comes double edged. It can be extremely beneficial to talk to people and read blogs about people going through the same things you are. But at the same time, we’re all cancer patients and some of us respond to treatment and some of us don’t. So, smack! Another dose of mortality hitting you in the face. A group of mommy bloggers have gotten together to write Mothers With Cancer, a place I think would have been very helpful when I was first diagnosed. Anyway, I’m digressing from where I wanted to go with this. One of the Mommies is having to make the most difficult choices a mama can make right now and it really brings home how serious cancer is. And then I don’t feel so guilty cuddling with my boy until he falls asleep. (If you’re of a prayerful nature, a couple extra for PunkRockMommy couldn’t hurt.)
12 responses to “Trauma and the cancer patient”
lydee
June 13th, 2008 at 06:57
lots to think about. no worries with the little ones, you’re giving them love and cuddles, that means so much more. potty training will come around eventually, and my daughters are 4 and 5 and they still don’t clean their rooms!
sometimes, it helps if i set the timer for 5 minutes, and tell them, just spend 5 minutes picking your books up, (or putting stuffed animals away, or whatever). then when the timer goes off, you’re done. it won’t all be cleaned up after 5 minutes, but it makes a dent and the little ones make a game of it. and it’s less stressful. 🙂
Kari S.
June 13th, 2008 at 07:09
you and punkrockmommy have my prayers and hugs!
Knit-Eat-Sleep
June 13th, 2008 at 07:31
Oh my, Nicole………………….I could not stop reading her blog. Wow, I don’t know what I would do if I were here. I will pray for her. I am so glad you are where you are with all of this. We love having you in our lives! 🙂
Love ya!
Nachaele
sophanne
June 13th, 2008 at 08:48
Thanks for telling us the truth. It’s what we should know.
Lisa
June 13th, 2008 at 11:36
We love you.
I am so sorry that you have been forced to live/learn these truths.
Sarah S.
June 14th, 2008 at 05:56
Good post Nicole! You hit the nail on the head! You should think about joining us on the new blog! We would benifit from your point of view and your wonderful writing!
Don’t worry about the potty training and small stuff like that. It will come. The kids need you just to be there with you and have happy moments. The other stuff can come later!
cheryl stouff
June 14th, 2008 at 06:44
Hi Nicole,
This isn’t fair at all. I remember thinking all those things before I had surgery to remove lymph nodes to see if I had Hodgkins. It was a brief time of uncertainty and I had wee ones as well at the time. For me it was brief, but for you a reality. I will never forget that time though and I have never seen life quite the same way since. I just want you to know that I care and I will be praying for those times when it all seems so dark. I will be praying that each day brings a little more light and a lot more hope. Take care.
whymommy
June 15th, 2008 at 07:20
Hey. Come join us. I can add you to the site as an author if you like. I really like what you have to say….
Alice
June 17th, 2008 at 08:00
Nicole, Such good writing. It is extremely descriptive — which, in this case, is scary. It is open and honest. It flows. I’m glad you are writing for more than your blog. Others not only need the information you provede, but also need good writing!
Alice
June 17th, 2008 at 08:01
Sorry. “Provide”
Marly
June 19th, 2008 at 22:14
Well, you have done it again. Yep, I am sitting her with streams of tears rolling down my face! My dear friend, you have a way about you that really brings the emotions and the “real” home for us all. I love the way you write so frankly and descriptively and yet humorously.
I adore you!
As for the kiddos…Cuddle away my dear! Rub their noses full of Eskimo Kisses! Potty Training and learning how to clean a room can wait. You enjoy them!
Punk Rock Mommy…my heart goes out to her. What a tough decision! Her post moved my soul.
I respect both of you so very much. You are always in my prayers my dear friend!
xoxoxox
marly
Stephanie
December 1st, 2008 at 12:47
Excellent post – it touches on so many feelings and emotions we all go through while dealing with cancer. I could have written some of it myself (though probably not as well). 🙂
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