Confessions of a Single Mom with Cancer Entry #9

Maybe my mom was right. As I get older the more I start having this thought and I had it today over something I really wasn’t willing to agree with. My mom always says we (me and my sisters – in my mom’s mind we are like one being) don’t tell our kids ‘NO’ enough. Now in general, I don’t agree with her. My kids ask for 101 things every day, so I have to say no to them often. However, I had an experience with my 10 year old today that made me come to this thought.

9. I work too hard to ensure my kids aren’t disappointed.

I know that sounds CRAZY. I have spent the past 10 years trying to ensure my 2 daughters didn’t experience disappointment. Definitely not from me or frankly anyone else who they believe loves them. I’ve been afraid that being disappointed would make them feel a deep sadness, making them feel unsure or insecure. It also just felt like failure on my part. Disappointing the girls by not being able to be some where or doing something for them, within reason, seemed like one of those things that separated the good parents from the bad.

Then, the cancer thing happened. Being diagnosed in December meant the beginning part of 2015 was going to be challenging. It also meant that we had 1/2 a school year left to tackle.  And all of a sudden, there were disappointments, several of them. Trying to be mom, keep up at work, and endure the chemo and radiation treatments resulted in disappointments. I couldn’t do it all. There were doctors appointments and treatments I couldn’t miss. Because of my immune system, there were places I couldn’t go. And there were days, I just didn’t feel up to doing anything.  I missed a parent-teacher conference, science fair, field day, the end of school performance, class parties, open house, church programs and solos.

I wasn’t there and I knew that was disappointing for the girls. Especially because, I’m ALWAYS there. I jump through all kinds of hoops to be there for my kids. I know most parents do, but honestly as a single working mom this is when I feel the stress of that title. I have competing priorities between work and home. I can’t be in 2 places at once and sometimes I don’t have a choice but if there’s a way, I will make it happen. And up until now, I pretty much always have.

When it happened the first time, there was crying, and begging me to go. I was really sad because I knew they were disappointed. It got better as the months continued. Everyone acclimated to the new reality – which was mom can’t go, go, go! But there was always sadness.

Then today, I experienced something for the first time. I had to tell my 10 year old I couldn’t be at her end of camp performance. She said, I really want you to be there. She was sad, but then she got over it. QUICKLY. No crying, no pouting, no begging. Even after the program, I asked her how it went and she said, I wish you could have been there but it was great.

Now to give you some background, last year (BC – before cancer) she attended this same camp. Last year’s program was at the same time as our company board meeting and my boss made it clear, he wanted me there. My daughter also made it clear she wanted me at her performance. I was determined to do both. The camp was nearly 45 minutes from my office. I figured I could get there but I’d have to get back and maybe even leave early. I called on one of my best friends for help to meet me out there in case I needed to leave and to bring my daughter home since I’d be back at work. I made the haul out there and back just in time to see her dance and do my part at the board meeting. I made it happen, but it was stressful and a little crazy for sure and what I discovered today – UNNECESSARY.

Because she survived me not being there. She still was excited about her performance. She still smiled and did her best. She was still proud of herself, even if I wasn’t there to see how great she did. She lived through the disappointment.

Before cancer, I honestly think none of us believed we could survive me disappointing them. But in a way, I think it makes them stronger. I think it helps them understand that people who love you are going to disappoint you, sometimes it’s out of their control, but even when it’s not, it doesn’t mean they don’t love you. I think it helps them be more realistic. They pretty much believe I have a MAGIC WAND and can do anything and everything. Finally they know, I don’t and no matter how badly I want to, sometimes, I can’t.

It’s freeing in a way for me. I was driving myself crazy and beating myself up for the things I couldn’t do, WAY too much. Being FORCED into this situation of disappointing them, was the only way I was going to see how this change in my behavior could be beneficial for all of us.

As I start thinking about what our life looks like once all the treatments and surgeries are done, I know I want to have the ability and flexibility to do more with my girls, to be there for them, and make them a priority, but I also know that we’re all going to be ok even when I can’t.

 

 

 

Confessions of a Single Mom with Cancer Entry #8

This confession could get me in trouble. And, I don’t know if this is something that is going to eventually wear off or if it is here to stay. But it’s real.

8. I’m tired of acting like I care about things I don’t really care about.

I know that might sound harsh, but the more I’m reengaged in the real world, my old world, the more I feel like this. See during chemo, I wasn’t out much. I had to protect my immune system, so even though I worked throughout, I wasn’t in nearly as many meetings or discussions with people. I was hardly allowed in public, so I wasn’t really engaged in a lot of random conversations. But now that I’m past the immune risk phase, I’m venturing out more and my schedule at work is beginning to look like it used to – back to back meetings, all day! And with all that interaction comes this reality check.

I remember having this feeling once before – like the things that used to seem important to me felt less important. That was when my dad died of lung cancer. My dad died on December 10, 1999, right before Y2K. That morning, I was on my way to Chicago from Texas with my sister to see him because we knew he was really sick, but he passed away before we got there. Like I said, it was December, so I stayed quite a while, spent the holidays there and didn’t come home until the new year. When I got back and returned to work, I remember thinking how silly and trivial things seemed to me. I’d sit in meetings and internally shake my head as others passionately debated the words to use in a communication or the event location or paper for an invite. Anything. Everything. It all seemed less important. It felt that way because at that point, I realized how precious life was and that it wasn’t promised. I understood that people and relationships, love and commitment were important. But this stuff? Not so much. It was hard. I remember wondering then if it would pass….and it did.

The feeling I have now is similar – but different. Now, it’s not just the loss of someone else that is making me feel this. In some strange way, I think it’s somewhat of a loss of myself. When you’re diagnosed with cancer, you lose something. Something within you. For some people, this is bad – they may lose hope, dreams, excitement, trust. But for me, I lost my desire to fake it. I want everything to be real. I want everything to be alive. I know some things you just have to do, but I’ve lost my flair for the perfunctory. Webster’s definition of perfunctory – used to describe something that is done without energy or enthusiasm because of habit or because it is expected.

I don’t want to do things out of habit. I want to do things out of love, excitement, passion, compassion, caring. I don’t want to do things because it’s expected. I want to do the unexpected. Surprise someone with a kind word, or smile. From the simple to the grand, I guess I want to live more vividly. And something about acting like I care about things that I don’t doesn’t feel right, good or vivid.

It feels perfunctory – from the Latin perfungi – to get through with. And that’s exactly what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to just get through with life or any part of it. I don’t want to feel that about work, about things I do with the girls, about time I spend with friends. That to me is not living. Not anymore.

Every moment actually does feel more important to me now. So even if it’s just a meeting or small talk or whatever, it feels like a moment I’ve been given back. A moment I should make the most of. I want to give 100% to each moment. So, I no longer accept the idea that you just have to do somethings. I no longer agree to just do things because I’m supposed to or it’s expected of me. I spent the first 42 years of my life doing that and I was really good at it. It’s now time to see if I’m good at this instead. This truly living life to its fullest and not wasting a single moment way.

Because even though I got over this feeling 15 years ago, I was right back then. Life is precious, unpredictable and not promised and that is NOT lost on me.

 

 

 

Confessions of a Single Mom with Cancer Entry #7

There’s this strange pressure you feel after the cancer diagnosis to figure yourself and your life out. I’m sure it’s probably universal, especially if you have a pretty good prognosis from the beginning. You immediately start thinking about life after cancer. It’s part of what I think pulls you through.

So as you’re trying to figure out what you’ll do next and differently, you’re forced to look back on what you’ve done. As I started doing that, I discovered something about how I’ve approached life that I hadn’t expected. I realized that a lot of my life – not just cancer – had just happened to me. I hadn’t necessarily made things happen. So as I think about the future, it’s becoming clear to me that:

7. I’m so much more in control of my life story than I realized.

This may sound really crazy in the midst of something I obviously had no control over. But as I sat in a meeting today, listening to some people’s stories of themselves, I realized I can do so many things and frankly, I’ve prevented myself from doing them. That’s not necessarily bad. I’ve had 3 jobs over the past 20 years. My first lasted 13 years and if the company hadn’t been bought, I’d probably still be there. I like stability, and that has served me well. But there are other things I’d like to do and probably could. Other chapters of my story.

So I had to start thinking about why I don’t or why I didn’t.

The bottom line is FEAR – in many different forms, or for many different reasons, but when it comes down to it, I’m afraid.

Afraid of failure.

Afraid of disappointing others.

Afraid of making a fool of myself.

Afraid of being unsure.

Afraid of being unstable.

Afraid I won’t be able to provide for the girls.

Afraid I’m not as smart, good, or special as I think I am.

But maybe it’s not just fear. Maybe it’s also that I’m comfortable.

Comfortable knowing I’m pretty much guaranteed continued success on this path.

Comfortable knowing that paycheck is coming on the first and the fifteenth.

Comfortable not having to get to know new people.

Comfortable not having to learn new tricks.

Comfortable feeling smart and being experienced.

Truthfully, most of the changes I’ve made in my life have been somewhat forced. So I didn’t have time or the choice to be afraid and in most cases, things had actually gotten UNcomfortable. I didn’t make them because I wanted to. I’ve changed jobs because I had to. I’ve moved because I had to.

I want to make a CHOICE to do something different. I want to CHOOSE a new venture or company, even though I’m secure in my current one. Instead of reacting to what life has handed me, I want to pick my cards and make my hand. I’ve been blessed because the hand I’ve been dealt has been a good one. But imagine how much better it could be if I was driving it – with a little bit of faith. And yes, it could go bad too – but being able to accept more RISK in my life is important. Maybe I’m ready, because the last six months have been a lot about the RISK of recurrence and reducing it, but also accepting, there’s going to be some level of RISK! What I hope is to increase my ability to accept it in my life choices too.

I believe there’s a freedom pass for me, right now, in the midst of this, and it won’t last forever. I believe everyone can accept my need to make different choices for myself. I believe nothing seems that scary right now as I begin to put this behind me. I believe I deserve to live a full, unconstrained life. I believe it’s time to be uncomfortable and ignore my fears. I believe it’s time to be more trusting and have greater faith.

I believe it’s my turn to start making choices and writing my own story. Today. It’s time.