I'm Still Standing!
On Saturday evening, I felt well enough to go grocery shopping. Afterwards, Jim and I walked across the plaza to get some takeout food. Chinese for the kids and I, Subway for him. I ordered the Chinese food and sat down with a cup of tea to wait, telling Jim to go ahead and get his sub. I was tired by that time and needed to just take a minute.
As I sat there, I realised that people were watching me. I mean REALLY watching me.
I've had stage IV cancer since April. But have never looked like there was much wrong with me to be honest. Now it's a different matter. I look like a cancer patient. I was wearing my ballcap over my extremely thinned out hair, but you could tell things weren't right. My poor swollen face and black eye circles, the steroid zits, the weight loss along with the huge steroid tummy. All of it unimportant to me because I'm doing what I have to do to survive.
But see, for the past three weeks, I've been living in a different world to the one I was used to, the one everyone else is used to. I'd forgotten how it can be out there. I sat and sipped my tea and just breathed it out, but the attention was making me feel claustrophobic, isolated. I realised that it was the first time I'd been anywhere alone, without Jim, since this latest setback. I also realised that the only way to get through was to behave as if I had a little dignity, because frankly nobody else seemed that way inclined and sometimes what you take away from an experience is all your own.
As I walked to the counter to get my order, people's heads turned and followed me, then did the same as I walked out of the door. I'm not sure it was meant unkindly even, just... I dunno... stupidly maybe? People just don't always think...
And maybe I'm was just feeling a little bit vulnerable right then, maybe I should have just stared back, or taken my hat off, or something. That actually sounds more like me, but I wasn't prepared for how it was, wasn't expecting the claustrophobia. It silenced my ballsiness, damped down my fire just a little. I didn't like that. I won't say that I felt sorry for myself, just a little... weakened for that one moment. And of course I was really tired, so that didn't help. Was probably a huge part of it actually.
I felt a bit like I was no longer a real person, just for that minute in time... It was a... moment. A small moment of clarity that I didn't have before. I never realised how much I hide behind Jim on the rare occasion I'm in public now.
I'm over it, I went home and served up the Chinese food for the kids and as I did so, I was singing "I'm Still Standing", because that's the REAL truth of who I am. I know it, the people who know me know it. The rude SUV drivers in the Chinese takeout place don't need to know it. It's none of their business.
More positively, the next morning I felt really well. I held back on my meds and was able to drive myself for radiation (Jim came with, just in case). Just to be able to drive my car was so amazing. Trivial, but amazing. On the way home, we stopped at Dunkin Donuts (nobody stared) and I ordered coffee and donuts to go. By myself. I wouldn't have been able to do that three weeks ago. I could barely hold a conversation back then. That whole morning was like a gift. Seriously. It felt awesome.
Better yet, I drove myself yesterday and today too... And even better was the news from my doctor that we have "continued objective and subjective improvement in the tumor fields with no edema or other adverse side effects and vastly improved cognitive abilities". My treatment seems to be working. He looked at me, grinned and said, 'we're looking good, we'll just carry on'.
So day 17 of WBR...
Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did
Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid
I'm still standing after all this time
Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind
I'm Still Standing!
As I sat there, I realised that people were watching me. I mean REALLY watching me.
I've had stage IV cancer since April. But have never looked like there was much wrong with me to be honest. Now it's a different matter. I look like a cancer patient. I was wearing my ballcap over my extremely thinned out hair, but you could tell things weren't right. My poor swollen face and black eye circles, the steroid zits, the weight loss along with the huge steroid tummy. All of it unimportant to me because I'm doing what I have to do to survive.
But see, for the past three weeks, I've been living in a different world to the one I was used to, the one everyone else is used to. I'd forgotten how it can be out there. I sat and sipped my tea and just breathed it out, but the attention was making me feel claustrophobic, isolated. I realised that it was the first time I'd been anywhere alone, without Jim, since this latest setback. I also realised that the only way to get through was to behave as if I had a little dignity, because frankly nobody else seemed that way inclined and sometimes what you take away from an experience is all your own.
As I walked to the counter to get my order, people's heads turned and followed me, then did the same as I walked out of the door. I'm not sure it was meant unkindly even, just... I dunno... stupidly maybe? People just don't always think...
And maybe I'm was just feeling a little bit vulnerable right then, maybe I should have just stared back, or taken my hat off, or something. That actually sounds more like me, but I wasn't prepared for how it was, wasn't expecting the claustrophobia. It silenced my ballsiness, damped down my fire just a little. I didn't like that. I won't say that I felt sorry for myself, just a little... weakened for that one moment. And of course I was really tired, so that didn't help. Was probably a huge part of it actually.
I felt a bit like I was no longer a real person, just for that minute in time... It was a... moment. A small moment of clarity that I didn't have before. I never realised how much I hide behind Jim on the rare occasion I'm in public now.
I'm over it, I went home and served up the Chinese food for the kids and as I did so, I was singing "I'm Still Standing", because that's the REAL truth of who I am. I know it, the people who know me know it. The rude SUV drivers in the Chinese takeout place don't need to know it. It's none of their business.
More positively, the next morning I felt really well. I held back on my meds and was able to drive myself for radiation (Jim came with, just in case). Just to be able to drive my car was so amazing. Trivial, but amazing. On the way home, we stopped at Dunkin Donuts (nobody stared) and I ordered coffee and donuts to go. By myself. I wouldn't have been able to do that three weeks ago. I could barely hold a conversation back then. That whole morning was like a gift. Seriously. It felt awesome.
Better yet, I drove myself yesterday and today too... And even better was the news from my doctor that we have "continued objective and subjective improvement in the tumor fields with no edema or other adverse side effects and vastly improved cognitive abilities". My treatment seems to be working. He looked at me, grinned and said, 'we're looking good, we'll just carry on'.
So day 17 of WBR...
Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did
Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid
I'm still standing after all this time
Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind
I'm Still Standing!
posted by Heather at 11:00 AM
6 Comments:
Heather,
I've been reading your blog since the beginning and you are truly an inspiration. I'm so glad the WBR is working for you. Who cares what you look like - you're still standing, and driving, and spending time with your family - that's all that matters! Screw all the ignorant people who stare - stupid people do stupid things - there's just no changing that - it's one of the universal truths you can count on! Anyway, I'm a lurker on the MPIP board, and occasionally post, and that's where I found your blog. I'm currently stage IIIA, but if I ever get to stage IV, I hope I have the courage, strength and humor you possess. I know you consider your supporters your angels, and I just wanted to let you know that you're a real live angel to all of us. I'll keep you and your family in my thoughts and prayers. Enjoy a wonderful Thanksgiving with your family!
Keep standing,
Sue
Hey Heather!
I'm so glad you've been getting some good news lately!
I know what you mean about appreciating the tiniest little things like driving. You don't realize that even "chores" were priviledges until the ability to do them is physically taken away. I'm happy that you have that gift back-- some friggin' independence and dignity!
Even if your poor body is burned and aching and reacting to the steroids, your spirit is certainly in amazing shape... and the WBR is working!!! Let's hope this is some short term pain for long term gain!
I'm gonna call you tomorrow afternoon (Wed) and hope you are home to chat!
sarah
Hey Heather,
You are a true warrior and "I'm still standing" surely does sum it up, in terms of your enormous battle, and how you continue with such style. I am so glad you are able to drive and I totally understand what a big victory that is. It's funny how singing can trully validate and bring things into focus. When I was limping (odious comparison with all you've been through) on my former running trails, I found myself singing "Well I won't back down, no I won't back down You can stand me up at the gates of hell But I won't back down". Even then I knew I was overdramatizing my situation, if only to myself, having been through helping my mom many years ago when she was paralyzed on one side by a stroke. Now I have gained even more perspective seeing women like you with four children who not only continue as a stage IV survivor but continue with grace and humor. My very best wishes as always, Carver
Yeah, yeah, yeah! That's the next line, correct?
Sometimes I feel that it's not right -- that after reading your blog, I feel invigorated, inspired -- then I realize that THAT is what anyone should feel after reading your entries. Absolutely inspired and appreciative of every single day.
I get it, Heather. I do. I can only hope to think, appreciate, enjoy and see every single day as the gift that you see.
Your descriptions are so vivid, so true and so heartfelt. Thank you for sharing them with us.
Happy, happy thanksgiving to you and yours.
CarolA
Wow, I wonder if I stare at people. I don't think I do. But after reading your post, I know I will never do it again.
I apoligize to anyone who does get stared at. It does seem so cruel. But those people that do stare, aren't doing it just to you, but to handicap or overweight people too.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family!
My God, I can't tell you how much I admire your attitude, your resiliance and your spirit. You are truly an inspiration. I know what you mean about the stares - I got them too when I had reconstructive surgery on my nose. I don't think people are cruel - they just don't think! Anyway, just wanted you to know that your blog has really made me think about the importance of living life - however much time we have, and we never know - to the fullest, regardless of our circumstances. Keep on keeping on - I'm rooting for you!
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