The Mundane Middle

Recent photo from Asheville with a mural of one of the girls' distant cousins.

I just realized that its been weeks since I have posted on here. To be super-authentic, sometimes I feel like I shouldn't post if I don't have anything (that I think is) witty, interesting, or (hopefully) insightful. But the reality is that sometimes living with cancer is simply that - just living. Not particularly hard, not particularly easy, not painful, not pleasant - just the boring middle. Think of this as a Wednesday post. It's not as dramatic as Monday or as fun as Friday. It's not even a Taco Tuesday. I think this is the stuff that most of us are fighting when people talk about being mindful or staying present.

The truth is, most of live some version of a highlight reel, assuming different roles and telling our personal narrative in that format. When you're "the student," people ask about your classes or sporting activities and you speak in reference to big events. "I'm so glad that semester is over." or "When is that big exam/paper/thesis?" Or if you are in "the bride" role, it's "how is the wedding planning going?" or, you say,"The wedding was so great, but I'm glad the planning is behind me." Insert the same roles and highlight reels from your latest trip/adventure, or parents - "how is little Suzie/Erin/Joe"

Believe me, I'm pointing a finger at myself too. We all do this. If I were a sociologist, I would probably have some well researched reason as to why we, as humans, do this. But we all do this. It may be simply because that's the stuff that people want to hear about. We don't want to hear about your Wednesday, or see your new sensible loafers. We want to hear about your Friday and your new envy-of-the-block Nikes.

I don't think there is necessarily an issue with telling the highlight reel or playing a role. My concern is if we are only living for the milestones and just muddling through the middle part. I'm teetering between wanting to be present for the life that I have in this moment and wishing desperately for the end of chemo and that milestone. Currently, I'm leaning hard on the latter, while still enjoying the ins and outs of the day to day.

I think I've mentioned on here before that, although I'm very excited to be finished with treatment, my role and narrative will change again, but what to? What is my post treatment identity. My current reel is more valleys than peaks but it's news and I guess there has been some drama - what does she have? What's to be done about it? Will she be writing this blog in 2/5/10/50 years? Stop crying Mom. I'll be here for the 50, if I have any say in the matter.

But right now, my role is that of patient. So, when someone asks the arbitrary "How are you?" I usually respond with some sort of statement about where I am in the chemo cycle that month. For example, a colleague today on a zoom call asked how I was feeling, and I instantly said that I'm feeling great today because I finished a chemo week last week.

So, there you have a Wednesday post on a Monday.

Updates:

• Just finished a chemo week

• Last MRI looked great - still have the swelling, but the PA at Duke said it may just stay there, if it's not causing problems it's ok.

• Next Avastin treatment is Thursday.

• Still having joint pain - most of the team seems to think it will be better when I'm done with chemo. Put that in the bucket with a few other things that will magically clear when I'm done.