A Word of Advice, from one former bald kid to another
The "new normal" is something one of my social workers said in passing about how things are constantly changing. She told my parents that life goes on after cancer, and while everyone aims for the fabled full recovery, chances are that won't necessarily happen. Nothing is ever absolute when it comes to radiation, chemo, surgery, and the Big C, save for the fact that every day is a constant struggle. Even if you do recover, things are different, and sometimes those things stay that way for the rest of your life.
If that sounds vaguely glum to outsiders, I apologize. It's important to note that those undergoing life-saving chemotherapy find inspiration in the oddest things, and my family was no exception to the rule. While it may have been depressing to know that life wasn't ever going to go back to the way it was for me, it was more than a little uplifting to hear that I'd be able to get used to the things that changed because of treatment.
For the most part, the social worker was right. Everything about how my body functions has changed, from the way I eat to the way I have to fall asleep at night without the use of sleep aids to the way I have to get root canals now when I've never (before cancer) had a cavity in my life. Instead of being upset that I'm not able to crash for five hours and wake up feeling refreshed and energized like I used to when I was fifteen or sixteen, instead of lamenting woe is me on my way to the dentist's office once every three months, I'm happy to be waking up in the morning at all. There were times when things looked dark and I was unsure of the outcome There were times when I thought it might have just been easier to call it quits and let cancer win the war.
I didn't.
You shouldn't, either.
Find something to help you through it. Find art, find God, find a love for music. Build a model ship or a Lego starship, write a novel, a screenplay, a book of poems. Write something. Do something. Regardless of the type of cancer you were unfortunate enough to be diagnosed with, you probably have a long road to recovery ahead of you. Don't waste the day in your bed with that woe is me attitude I talked about. Get up, go out. Set up a Relay for Life event or donate your time to help others going through the same thing. Build peer groups and talk about everything you're going through -- everyone wants to know they're not alone, and cancer patients are no exception. Forming a community with a group of survivors is something that lasts a lifetime, a bond nothing can ever break.
If nothing else, for the love of God, don't become stagnate. There are twenty-four hours in the day and seven days in a week. Pick one hour out of those 168 to feel sorry for yourself if you must, but use those other 167 hours in the week to do something productive. The process might see you through to the other side.
If that sounds vaguely glum to outsiders, I apologize. It's important to note that those undergoing life-saving chemotherapy find inspiration in the oddest things, and my family was no exception to the rule. While it may have been depressing to know that life wasn't ever going to go back to the way it was for me, it was more than a little uplifting to hear that I'd be able to get used to the things that changed because of treatment.
For the most part, the social worker was right. Everything about how my body functions has changed, from the way I eat to the way I have to fall asleep at night without the use of sleep aids to the way I have to get root canals now when I've never (before cancer) had a cavity in my life. Instead of being upset that I'm not able to crash for five hours and wake up feeling refreshed and energized like I used to when I was fifteen or sixteen, instead of lamenting woe is me on my way to the dentist's office once every three months, I'm happy to be waking up in the morning at all. There were times when things looked dark and I was unsure of the outcome There were times when I thought it might have just been easier to call it quits and let cancer win the war.
I didn't.
You shouldn't, either.
Find something to help you through it. Find art, find God, find a love for music. Build a model ship or a Lego starship, write a novel, a screenplay, a book of poems. Write something. Do something. Regardless of the type of cancer you were unfortunate enough to be diagnosed with, you probably have a long road to recovery ahead of you. Don't waste the day in your bed with that woe is me attitude I talked about. Get up, go out. Set up a Relay for Life event or donate your time to help others going through the same thing. Build peer groups and talk about everything you're going through -- everyone wants to know they're not alone, and cancer patients are no exception. Forming a community with a group of survivors is something that lasts a lifetime, a bond nothing can ever break.
If nothing else, for the love of God, don't become stagnate. There are twenty-four hours in the day and seven days in a week. Pick one hour out of those 168 to feel sorry for yourself if you must, but use those other 167 hours in the week to do something productive. The process might see you through to the other side.