Speaking in Future Tense

"My death from cancer doesn't appear imminent. But I know I won't be able to do some of the things I want to. For one thing, my body has been pretty beat up. I'm just not physically up to it.

"When I find myself thinking two, or three, or even more years ahead, am I being silly? Feeling the phantom pain of a future that's no longer there"

Leroy Sievers wrote this about what may not be the worst pain of the cancer disease and treatment saga.

Although it's not the worst pain, getting used to what we can't do anymore and changing our ideas about ourselves and the future is difficult. It's not being maudlin or not thinking positively or being depressed or morose to admit the truth. And we each find our way to adapt. Or we don't and are miserable.

OK, maybe we remain a little miserable anyway.

But I'm working on adapting to what I can do in the here and now. And I'm thinking of what next year, and the next, could be like given the limitations I'm given.

It's really not so horrible; but it's a little sad. A bit like potential lost or a lover that leaves us. Things will never be the same. They can be good - but not the same. And greiving for that can be healthy, though painful.

Granted I won't have the exact future I envisioned as an eighty year old with a big house full of grandkids coming and going that my grandmother had - unless they're coming to bring meals to Nana.

I can't handle a big house and that's a fact. So thinking small and neat is smart and a way to be pleased with each day instead of frustrated. Somehow, no matter how I wrap my head around it I can't think of denial as superior to practical realism.

One ex-friend called my approach "negative energy" and wrote my daughter that she needed to protect herself from it. I was hurt - but it is what it is and we each live in our own reality.

That I'm allowed to know a little more about my future in advance and prepare mentally for it is part of mine. I look forward to happy times. Realistic, but happy.

I count myself lucky in that regard.

Comments

[Drew McLellan]

Susan,

I know from walking along side my mom as she battled her cancer, one of the biggest sources of her anger and frustration is that the cancer stole a great deal of her control over her own life.

Suddenly chemo schedules and weariness were dictating her life more than she was.

So what I hear beneath the words of your post is that you are taking back some of the control.

I don't think there's anything negative about that. I would think that's pretty healthy and actually a good sign that you are looking towards your future and setting yourself up to have as many good days and perhaps more important -- contented days as possible.

Amen to that approach! Whether we have cancer or not.

Drew

[Venomous Kate]

My mother had grown reluctant to make long-term plans after her diagnosis with colon cancer. For the first few months she'd hardly envision beyond just getting through her next treatment. But that's kind of what it takes at first, isn't it?

After a while, as there were more treatments behind her than ahead of her, she began feeling hopeful again... and not afraid to feel hopeful. She started worrying about showing everyone that she was doing fine, even when she was tired. That, I think, tired her out even more.

At her last chemo treatment, her doctor gave her an excellent piece of advice: "Go and do, do, do for yourself. Do what you want when you want and when you're up to it. Don't keep thinking about other people. They'll be there, and if they love you they'll be cheering you on."

And you know what? The doctor was right. I love seeing how determined and vibrant she is, but I also love that when she's tired and doesn't bother putting on a brave act for me she admits it and lets me take care of her.

[Susan Piver]

Negative energy, shmnegative energy. Those who tell you that you are thinking the wrong thoughts are what I call "thought tyrants." Usually they are simply too afraid to think think what you have the courage to entertain.

In any case, there's a whole school of thought (namely: Buddhism) that says that understanding the preciousness of human birth is the central key to happiness. It sounds to me like you are making an effort to come closer to that preciousness. Thought tyrants try to move away from it. To me, you are attempting to stand right in the middle of your situation as it unfolds, which is incredibly brave. I support you with my whole heart.

Of course, the whole thing sucks too, and I truly wish you did not have to think about any of these things. But you are an inspiration to me and I'm sure to many others. Thank you so much for sharing your journey.

[Lorri Randle]

I think that bringing meals to Nana would be a great thing for grandkids to do! What a way to learn about service!
I think in life we have to have opposition. And to never think negative thoughts would be impossible because we are human. Even Christ prayed that "if this cup be taken away, not my will but thine." So even He the greatest of all didn't have the most pleasant of thoughts all the time-and He knew the future.
I think you are doing a wonderful job with the situation you are given and lots of people around you are learning the lessons of love, patience, courage and strength from you. What an inspiration you are to all of us!

[Jonathan Trenn]

I think that you'll be touching people in many ways through these years. And while you may not live the way you had imagined, you will give others the opportunity to see life differently.

It's late. I'm exhausted. I hope that made sense.

[Laura]

You have, most probably, the responses you need to have to move into the next day of life. Who is to judge that? And whom does any judgment really speak about except those that judge.

I admire you SO much Susan.

Love,
LJ

[Bruce Curley]

Susan,

I think there is alot of wisdom in your post. You are realistic and honest and your insights are valuable.

My own mother had to abandon her large house to live in a tiny apartment. She welcomed her 19 grandchildren in that little place as she would have in the large house: with warm food, a huge smile, and lots and lots of good talk. But she would, at times, be sad or cry if the situation warranted it: the death of a relative, etc.

She dropped dead coming out of the shower at 73. My 8 brothers and sisters, her children, divided up her belongings...mostly letters...in 4 hours. Her light and laughter and goodness live on through her children and grandchildren. For example, I have a number of poems where her sayings are the core.

She had many sayings, one of which was, "The only thing I want on my grave is "She was a good mother!" And she was. The world continues to get better and better everyday due to good mothers...not perfect...good.

Congratulations for being one of the good ones!

[Marti]

I don't think you are being negative, and I'm sorry that anyone thinks people need to "protect" themselves from you.

Bad stuff happens. I never expected my husband to have a stroke. It has changed our lives dramatically, and both of us have to be realistic about those changes, just as you and your family do. To live in some Pollyanna world where nothing is really wrong is delusional.

I think you have shown remarkable strength and courage, and I am proud to call you a friend. I wish you all the best, knowing that you will make the most of the hand that's dealt you.