A Funny Thing Happened…

Or could have happened, should have happened, or didn’t happen

 

About half of all of us with incurable cancer (incurable means that it likely will kill us someday) also have to deal with depression and anxiety. Actually, it’s not so surprising.

In many cases there is a predictable progression of events and often it doesn’t end well:

·        Doctor: You have cancer.

·        You: OMG, I’m going to die!

·        Doctor: Maybe not, there are treatments and possibly a cure!

·        You: Oh boy, I’m going to be cured!

·        Doctor: Whoops, the treatment didn’t work completely and the cancer came back. This time it’s not curable.

·        You: OMG, I’m going to die!

·        Doctor: Maybe, but there are treatments to slow cancer growth and give you a better quality of life.

·        You: What’s the use? I’ll just wait for the inevitable…, or

·        You: Then it’s time to finish off my bucket list, visit friends, and write that memoir…

When it seems hopeless there is professional help, medications, counseling, and support groups—but you have to make the choice whether or not to get assistance.

How we react to a bad situation varies a lot. Nobody knows how they will do it until it happens to them. We all have good days and bad days—I definitely hope I have more good days. My approach for the past dozen years with incurable prostate cancer has been to spend time with family and friends, laugh a lot, stay very, very busy, write blogs and books (often humorous—hopefully), and draw and publish hundreds of cancer-related cartoons. I have tried not to offend anyone with cancer—but, I maybe take a shot or two at doctors and drug companies—and bring a smile or little laughter into some lives.

Some have thanked me and even asked to borrow the articles and cartoons for use in other publications. A few others have become angry with me and told me how inappropriate humor is when dealing with cancer. One person, with late stage cancer, told me, “Cancer is not funny!” And suggested I not use humor in communicating with others who have cancer, ever. Of course I know cancer is not funny but I believe a sense of humor can help—it has helped me. Being able to laugh at the ironies of growing old, the strange side effects from medications, those body parts that don’t work very well anymore, and becoming more and more dependent on doctors, pills, injections, and even Depends, makes me smile—at least a little! I know that won’t be the case for everybody. 

Nobody knows if the meds will stop working or we’ll get hit by a bus or the big 9.5 earthquake will hit or…. So I’m trying to enjoy every day and maybe help some others enjoy their days a little bit more. What works best is probably different for each person‑‑find what works best for you. There are many sources of information out there. There are numerous cancer organizations, blogs, support groups, and publications. Find those that fit your needs, beliefs, and comfort levels.

axman

Afraid of Dying?

…just about everybody is if they’re being honest and paying attention

Most of my life I never gave a second thought to death or dying unless somebody I knew died. That changed slightly the day I was diagnosed with cancer. Even then it was more strange than frightening. In recent years several close friends have died from long-term diseases including a variety of cancers. I was impressed at how calm, accepting, and unafraid they were.


In my experience, there seems to be a progression of views and beliefs in life.

At 20 I assumed I would live forever and never lose any kind of functioning. For a while that seemed to be the case.


At 50 I felt strong and still indestructible – even though I remember that I considered my parents old when THEY were 50.


At 70 (almost) I have come to accept mortality (sort of). But there is a lot I still want to do. My bucket list is long. I have slowed down some (OK, more than some) and there are more aches and pains than a few years ago. My prostate cancer is under control, for now, and my arthritis and other aches and pains are mainly annoyances.


My mind (this, of course, may not seem to be true to anyone who knows me) seems to be OK most of the time – if you don’t count forgetting lots of things.

I am less patient with long waits for medical appointments, slow payment of insurance claims, rudeness from people who SHOULD be helping me, and people assuming I am stupid just because I’m old and gray. I’ve learned to say things like, “Let me talk to your supervisor”, and “No, that’s NOT OK”!

So I’m just going to get on with it (it being living the way I want) and see what happens.


Axman