So, Anxiety Zebras…
After having the world’s stupidest period my whole life, I finally get a doctor who says “hey, PCOS” and doesn’t do anything. But, after a couple of years of my period playing with me (everyday, nada for months, then need transfusions) a good doctor repeats the PCOS bit and then does the newest version of a DnC and I find out I have Cancer. Endometrial adenocarcinoma, stage 1/3. Look at me go.
Then a CT scan shows several inflamed lymph nodes nearby and either they’re just grumpy because I have an infection (my sinuses have hobbies) or they’re mad because there is cancer in my body, or the cancer has spread. So. February 11 I have a total hysterectomy and they’ll take out the grumpy nodes and test them. It will be ten or more days before I find out if my cancer has wanderlust. Seriously, look at me go…nuts I think.
No two people react to the pressures of cancer, strange barely known diseases, or other continually vicious diseases. Some are anxiety zebras, but others are giraffes or elephants, whatever. Personally, I think I’m a pied aardvark, and yes I’m just that weird. Or maybe I simply feel that different from others I’ve spoken with who’ve faced cancer or other attack diseases.
I feel like I am cocooned with numbness, discounted and floating watching things happen “over there”. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning and panic overwhelms me. I’m not sure how to deal with it except to endure and hope to make it out the other side. There is no set of rules or map to make it through this with who you were before completely intact. Not that change is necessarily bad, but in the midst of dealing with something like cancer it’s a bit “et tu, brute”?
Friends and loved ones want to help, and in that desire, can add to the pressure and suffering of the patient. Some folks want the wailing and hugs, others want distance and calm. People like me will reach out when we can handle it and pull back when it just makes things worse. It helps me to know people care, I just can’t handle the overload. I suggest that family and friends let the patient know you care and will help, but also let them feel it’s okay to ask you to step back a bit sometimes. It’s horrible to feel overwhelmed and afraid to ask people to give you some space. We’re trained by society to feel that it’s selfish not to accept help, even if it adds to the pressure and stress we are feeling.
The time after the operation, waiting for the test results will be my worst. I expect I will try several friends and family members patience. I can only hope that they understand there will be times I want to talk with them, others I won’t. I may do everything to avoid talking about “what ifs” and cancer, and it might be the only thing I talk about. I just hope they can go with the flow, and make this nightmare a bit less in charge.
Administrator’s Notes
Your friendly Coyote in Zebra Clothing here. If it wasn’t implied by this post being shared on this page, the reaction talked about here is completely normal. Nothing that was talked about is unhealthy or dangerous.
A lot of this comes down to understanding what someone is going through rather than assuming you understand. Respecting that, as stated by the author, no two people react the same. Whether not wanting to display their grief publically, whether they want to be hugged, whether they cut off their emotions and talk about it clinically.
What we should all be doing when someone is facing a life altering diagnosis, is listening. Being there as they ask us to.
It is easy to sit and say what we think the person should be feeling, or how they should be coping. But as long as they are moving forward, even it if is extremely slowly, then let them go at their own pace. Be supportive in ways they ask you to be supportive.
While the author doesn’t have EDS, and while cancer is a disease that we’ve often come to be able to cure, that doesn’t take away from the emotional impact. And as stated in previous posts, diagnosis is a Pandora’s Box. It’s grieving and we should all know that grieving is a complex road for all of us.
