After we told our family, friends, and our community about the cancer, I found myself feeling out of place.
The thing about cancer is that is really does shake you to your core, but my wife and I made the decision to do our best to strive for normalcy as much as possible, knowing that there was going to be a lot of not-normal ahead of us. While our situation isn't small enough to just be another thing we have to deal with on a day to day basis, it's something that we're trying our best to cordon off into a very specific section of our lives.
We just don't want this to be all-consuming, even though it sort of is. It would be detrimental to our mental health and especially that of our children. So as much as we can, we deal with what we need to deal with at the precise time it needs to be dealt with. There are appointments, treatments, recovery time, the logistics around that, and in the midst of all that we try to balance out a level of normalcy that's recognizable for ourselves and for our kids. As I mentioned in my last post, having even a whisper of normalcy wouldn't be possible if it weren't for the support of our family, friends, and our community helping to prop us up emotionally and physically. That has been priceless.
So all this talk of normal, why am I feeling out of place? I still work, I still read the news, I still exercise, I still do the things I normally do (perhaps a little less of it now). Is it weird to share a news article about the viability of cryptocurrencies or what's going on around the world... what about a funny meme? I have this hesitancy because of the optics, as silly as that sounds. What will people say or think when they see me working or laughing or doing "normal" things when there is so much not-normal in our lives right now? I don't think my wife or I are supposed to be constantly in grief. Striving for normalcy is a survival trait, I'm realizing.
Several friends of mine have talked to me and reminded me to make sure I take care of myself throughout all of this. I think, for me and probably for my wife as well, that means making sure the cancer doesn't become a prison preventing us from continuing to enjoy various facets of life. The mental health associated with coping with cancer, I think, rests in normalcy. Put another way: I need to be able to work and share a funny meme or go for a drive with my wife, share a joke, and laugh with friends. I think it helps to remove the otherwise incessant focus on the disease and the fight, especially because there are days when there is nothing to do but focus on it.
Looking back on it, this was the same challenge with Adam's diagnosis. Our entire sense of normal was removed from us. With my wife's cancer that same uprooted feeling is there, but it also feels like we're able to segment that a little more now that we've gone through it once. It also helps that there is a very large community of other patients and survivors to learn from and share with.
I've also noticed that our situation has helped bring people together, and that's been wonderful to see. We've been given the opportunity to reconnect with a lot of folks that we'd lost touch with, especially coming out of the pandemic. Each interaction is refreshing, and I hope that this is part of a new normal.
