Over the past few days since my diagnosis I've heard a lot of variations of, "You seem to be taking it rather well." Whenever people come to me for advice I tell them that there are always options, we just tend to ignore the ones that seem like more work. I could choose to dissolve into a puddle of fear and anger but when I did finally pull myself together my whole messy life would still be there. I'd still have cancer. I'd still have medical expenses, laundry, and homework.
I'm no saint; I'm not taking this "well.". I have been having a mini nuclear meltdown about six times a day. I want to beat my fists against a wall and scream, "Why?!" The problem is that I'm so busy walking the tight rope of my life that I've only got a few minutes to spare on it. I eat a cookie or steal a hug from my boyfriend, and wait for my brain to stop feeling like a caged bird desperate to fly away. I breathe. I rationalize a lot.
Im not a buddhist but i do have to give them credit for having it together in the "being a well adjusted human" department. I've been reading some Buddhist teachings lately on learning to be comfortable in uncertainty, and even leaning into the discomfort it creates. It makes me feel like someone has asked me to try to breathe water: Just stick your head under and take in a nice deep breath. I'm not sure if I'm quite ready for that spiritual enlightenment.
Being sick at this point in my life isn't just about my health in the present moment. Today after class I will be talking to my program chair about whether I'll be able to continue school next quarter. The program has very strict requirements that I might not be able to meet if things don't go well with the surgery and recovery. I also don't know if I'll be able to afford to continue to be in school. Obviously no one wants to be a jerk to the chick with cancer, but if they feel like I can't complete the program they'll have to make that call.
The thought of having something so completely out of my control ruin all the work I've put into the last four years of my life makes me so angry I want to snap at the world and then curl up in bed and cry. The thought of having my fourth surgery in eight years scares me so much I want to pull the covers over my head and stay there for a week or more. The thought of being completely, utterly destitute terrifies me in such a visceral way that it is hard to articulate.
The fear and anger, though, get in the way of the work I need to be doing to get through this. I have to give in to them every now and then or I might explode, but they don't serve a useful purpose. I can't do anything about the uncertainty of these times in my life so I have to focus on what I can do to keep my balance while everything sorts itself out. Like it or not, most of what I need right now is for time to pass so things can happen. My job is to keep it together.
A friend of mine once told me about another Buddhist teaching which is about letting go of outcomes. It means doing the best you can but not because you think that will get you what you want. So if I look calm about the fact that I have cancer, or I don't seem appropriately devastated, it's because I'm working on putting one foot in front of the other and trusting that there is solid ground on the other side. What form that solid ground will take is out of my hands, but getting there is all on me.
0 comments:
Post a Comment