Sometimes the subjects are topical (ripped from today's headlines); sometimes they are informative (a little geeky, but cancer tends to be high-science); sometimes they are humorous (well, at least I think they are funny - and after all this is really just for me); and sometimes they are just purely my own odd-servations. I bet by now you can figure out which way this is going.
I've been sitting on this one for quite a while. Perhaps because I'm always keeping a running list of blog ideas, or maybe I just have an imaginative mind (that may be overstating a bit), but occasionally I see or hear or wonder something and then follow that thought down the rabbit hole - the curiosity of the journey - kinda like "Alice." I wish I could blame it on the long-term effects of chemo or even the psychological ramifications of having cancer, but really - I just see things through a different lens (or actually "multiple" lenses).
As a person living with cancer, I realize just how lucky I am. Lucky to have been diagnosed with a strain of Multiple Myeloma that is one of the more controllable. Lucky to have found a team close by that specializes in my medical malady. Lucky that my Onc team landed on a responsive course of treatment, and succeeded in its administration/management. Lucky to frankly just be alive. So here goes - you've been warned. Do people resent me for recovering when perhaps their loved one didn't?
It's not Survivor's Guilt in the classic sense of the definition. Though difficult for me to describe, what I'm feeling is not a symptom of post-traumatic stress disorder or complicated grief. I have noticed that my emotional perspective comes in waves. Though empathetic toward those around me who are and have suffered with the worst possible effects of the disease and loss that can come with the ultimate fate, I'm not consumed with intense guilt, not overwhelmed with emotional distress, not wracked with self-blame, nor necessarily questioning why I was spared when others weren't so fortunate (I am grateful to be alive and am managing that internal conflict).
But I do wonder about it (worry / reflect) enough to generate a narrative that attempts to capture my thoughts (albeit feebly) on how others may be feeling toward me while I glibly and gabby-ly gallivant my way through years of cancer treatment, when they by contrast are painfully contending with the polar opposite of that perspective. One of the five stages of grief is anger - which can often include feelings of frustration, rage and resentment. I'm sorry if over the years I have in any way offended or upset you with my musings. I'm sorry if my seemingly blithe outlook comes off as insensitive. And most of all, I'm sorry for your loss.