Round 4. How do you even put something like this into words anyway?

When I first got diagnosed, I’d read various blogs and scroll social media accounts from anyone who was sharing their cancer journey with the world. So often, they are chocka with details around treatments, diets and the woes of misdiagnosis, insurance companies not paying out. And even though my story is full to the brim with those details too, I hardly read anything that talks about the emotional, human challenges of the whole thing. 

Which makes sense because how do you even put something like this into words anyway? Let alone publish it for the world to see when you are simultaneously the most vulnerable and least prepared to put up with the bullshit from people around you, let alone strangers on the internet. 

My friend asked me if I felt like I had to do these blogs, like an obligation to somehow start to pay back all the people who had donated their time and money to get me the treatment I need. And even though there is a genuine desire to thank every single person individually, there is just no way that I can without abandoning myself and my family. 

I write these from a place of processing. The publishing part is for me to practice my courage. These blogs act like pieces of evidence to me. That I can share my real feelings, my real experience and not be burnt at the stake. Maybe I am behind closed doors, but that really isn’t anything new to me. I have learned the lesson (many, many times) about how what people say is a direct reflection of themselves. Their understanding, belief system and pain. 

At teachers college, someone made a “I hate sarah” facebook page. I shit you not. I remember when I found out about it…and it didn’t even touch the sides. I literally thought “How ridiculous!” Laughed...and still do. 

I digress

My days are roller coasters. Crying one minute, then looking up at the clouds and letting them pull me away the next. I question my sanity and then remember that no…what I am going through right now is actually extremely challenging and would be for anyone. It’s not that I am not good enough…it’s just that it is actually hard. 

Raising money for treatment is like a start up, which relish the challenge of and simultaneously wonder how the hell anyone who doesn’t have business experience does it. I am genuinely so privileged in this. 

I truly underestimated the power of having a friend with me for treatment week. It was the easiest by a long shot because instead of sitting there alone, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling, it felt like having a coffee at a weirdly themed cafe. 

I also tried a 3 day fast and cold exposure work which also seemed to make a difference, not only to my mental state, but showed up in my bloodwork too so I don’t have to go on steroids! YAY! 

Sometimes I hear people say that getting a cancer diagnosis was the best thing that ever happened to them. It gave them more clarity on what was truly important and was the domino that cascaded a series of positive changes in their lives. “A gift” some would say (if they were not part of the cancer finishing school like my mum of course). 

In the past 5 years, I have had enough near death experiences to last a lifetime. Two ectopic pregnancies which were caught very late, going septic after having Hugo, and postnatal depression (which turns out is actually C-PTSD which is a story for another time)

So when I found out about my cancer diagnosis, it honestly didn’t really feel like a big deal. Just another one of those “close to the veil” moments that I would come back from. Of course, Jack was devastated.

 Poor guy. 

Talking to my therapist about this, I learned that those experiences can induce what is called an Existential Crisis. This term gets thrown around quite a lot, but I never really understood what it meant until recently. 

Part of going through an existential crisis is being surrounded by the heightened awareness of death, it’s clock ticking ever louder, invading thoughts and creating a sense of anxiety. For me, this is my usual state since dad’s death at 8 years old. Keeping death this close is why I don’t just ‘take things as they are”. Both a superpower and a curse. Great for business, improvements and sports. Terrible for existing in toxic family systems, living according to the status quo and being ‘easy” to deal with. 

The new part of the existential crisis I am experiencing is the responsibility to only to myself, not the social world around me. I am slowly learning how, infact, this serves the people around me better. Even though this seems common sense and we are bombarded with messages like “Can’t pour from an empty cup” and “You can’t love others more than you love yourself”. Great in the world of ideas, not so practical sometimes. This paired with good girl conditioning and a childhood of being praised only for achievement layered with being told I was “a selfish little so and so just like my father” when I was doing anything but adding value to the people around me, makes the notion of serving oneself first tricky at best. 

 Let me share the most recent example of when I implemented the “put self first” notion and it actually worked…

Last year we bought tickets to the Pink concert in Auckland. In the light of recent events, it would make sense not to go, not only for the financial cost, but the stress it would put on Jack leaving him with the kids by himself and the drive up on treatment week. Logically, it made sense not to.

The night before the trip, when I decided I would go, Hugo started vomiting and my nausea from the treatment ramped right up. There is that moment when you ask “Is this the universe telling me not to go? Or is it the universe trying to level me up?” I decided the latter. Then it took me 7 hours to get from Napier to Auckland (usually 5), squished together with an actual panic attack in my car as I was coming into Auckland. I literally left my car on the motorway. I got out. I could not breathe. 

Finally, I arrived and the Pink Concert. It was incredible. 10x better than I could have even imagined. The energy of the crowd, the spectacle of her performance and the songs themselves filled me up to the brim. Suddenly I was aligned, everything about my situation was clear and I was no longer in scarcity or fear. 

Suddenly I was aware that there is no limit to our imagination, that there are infinite ways to solve problems and there is no way Pink could do what she does without a huge amount of support. I made a commitment to myself there and then that I would reclaim that for myself. 

On the way home, Jack called me with a plan to sell our house to help pay for the rest of the ever rising cost of treatment and cover off some of our debts. In other words, to shrink. Because I was so aligned from being at that concert, it was a hard no. I could see other ways that we might be able to survive financially. If I didn’t go to that concert, instead of writing this I would be listing our home for sale and trying to find a rental. 

One thing I should make clear is that, for me, having a home to call our own gives me the security needed to survive in a more regulated state. Because I don’t have the security of my own family or a 9-5, this fills that gap for me. 

Circling back, I agree that getting a cancer diagnosis is a gift. It has taught me so much already as well as giving me the opportunity to heal my family line. But I would be lying if I said it was easy. My much preferred way of learning is through health and success (are you listening universe???) 

On the tough days, I find myself asking why? Haven’t I been through enough? Upon coming to earth did my soul fill out the form by ticking “Yes, the full experience option please”. 

Sometimes I think…has the cancer come because I am not doing enough? I have not earned my place here on earth? Where am I not doing, living, achieving enough? Is the universe like “Well….if you are not going to do what we put you here to do then you can just fuck off”. 

And I know, even when I say that, it is a direct reflection of my internal world from childhood. As an orphan, you are an inconvenience and you need to earn the right to be present by serving and achieving. 

I was watching Harry potter with Emma the other day, and there was a scene where Harry was serving tea and biscuits to the Dursleys while they were complaining about him and telling him he should be grateful. I burst into tears because it so closely mirrored my experience as an orphan. 

Emma now asks “Mumma are they happy tears or sad tears?” She is such a sweetheart. 

I'm grateful for the recognition in myself that these questions, in addition to being a reflection, are my brain trying to regain some control to create a sense of safety within me. Because logically, if I created the cancer within me, then I also have the power to fix it. That is an encouraging thought that puts me back in the driver's seat. However it blames me at the same time.

There is so much out there about “You create your own reality” and “Everything that happens is because of you” but sometimes, I don’t think this is strictly true. 

Go tell that to the kids in Starship.

Imagine rocking up and telling a 2 year old  “You have cancer because you didn’t eat correctly, sleep enough, set good enough boundaries and you hold onto too much anger”...You created it, so you can fix it. To me, that is the same line as thinking “That girl wore a skirt that was too short, so it’s her fault she got assaulted. 

Victim blaming is the term I am looking for. 

I have had people suggest to me where my cancer comes from. Not wearing enough sunblock , holding onto too much anger, not eating the right things, from my trauma I have not dealt with. 

And even though I believe the cancer is a manifestation of my trauma, it is not my fault. I didn’t cause it. It happened to me. That doesn't, however, relieve me from the responsibility to heal it in a way that is aligned with me. Fault and responsibility don’t have to be dependent on each other. 

 No-one's cancer treatment is the exact same, and it shouldn’t be. Everyone's cancer is their own special brand. And everyone's experience with it and what they need to learn from it is also just as special and individualized. 

I am proud to say I am learning how to hold both truths at the same time. 

Above all I have and have always had faith. In a sense that no matter what happens, everything always works out in the end and often better than I could ever imagine.

How does it get any better than this?