Yesterday I chatted with a nurse who told me about her son in the military, who had been to Afghanistan, and was now looking forward to coming home for Christmas. He was being de--?
"Debriefed?"
"No, de--. . ."
"De-stressed?"
"No, de-. . .de-. . ."
"Decompressed? "
"Well that's not it, but it's something like that."
Essentially, her son was training to be 'at home' again. Where you don't have to draw your gun if you hear a noise. Where your friends don't suddenly die in conflict. Where death is not an imminent possibility, or probability, of each day.
The USA military is now taking steps to ease Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Yay!
I heard on the radio a while ago that cancer patients also face post traumatic stress disorder. Sure, the stress is certainly not that which soldiers face. But we can see how it could be the same emotion.
For cancer, you go in, sign in, have body parts removed, undergo chemical attacks on your whole body system. Tough stuff, and emotionally-jarring, too. Pretty girls have their breasts removed. Cool guys have their prostate under the knife. Sorry, that leg has to go. And would you like to sign up for an additional chemical trial?
Some cancer patients and caregivers take a pragmatic approach to cancer.
"Right-ho! Cancer! Gotta have surgery, and chemo, so be it. But we might as well use this experience to benefit all!"
And so they face cancer with not too much panic, but with good intentions, helpfulness, humor, prayer, good diet, exercise, whatever. Looking good. It's tough. It's a year of being sick, probably hairless. The family calls daily. Old friends resurface with cards and presents. People on the street see the bald head and offer hugs and prayers. Many cancer patients thrive on all of the goodness that their family and community gives. The impact is 10 times more than the effort, and we TOTALLY appreciate it and thrive because of the many levels of support!
But THEN the cancer goes away.
This is where the PTSD comes into play. . .
The Tumor is gone. The hair is back. The patient has readjusted her wardrobe/gait/sex life to accommodate the life-altering body changes that came with surgery.
No-one on the street sees this new (yet quietly weakened) self as a cancer patient. They think she's just a little slow-moving.
Friends are pleased that you're better, family has ceased to book plane tickets to visit now that you're not about to die. The cards stop coming. Cancer's over.
Bye! Have a nice life!
Surviving cancer has a secret downside that nobody talks about. It's like going to the hospital to have a baby and you come back home without the baby, and you feel empty and crushed because you had totally restructured your life for no result. And even your family will not send congratulatory cards if there is no actual baby. You're done.
And so now you're expected to turn your life around in a complete revamp AGAIN to make it full of life when all you can think about is. . .
The good part is good. Soldiers come home.
But the bad part is that cancer patients can't just wake up one day and say "Oh, OK Everything is fine now so let's forget all about what happened."
We're still in the throes of this. . . we still need the support that we had when our needs were more obvious. Our entrails that were hacked out still leave scary shadows.
But when we go into remission, most of us can kiss our support group goodbye.
My friend just got through hubby-with-cancer. Her hubby survived quickly, but has decided to not ever mention cancer again, while my friend, as we figured out, is in PTSD.
"That's why I called," I said. "Once it's all done, that's when you REALLY need support!"
We talked about it. Does nobody realize that there are repercussions to the trauma of cancer?
"So how are you getting through this?" she asked.
"It's easy for me," I said, "because I'm back into chemo."
Love sending selfies to my supportive friends. . . is that dysfunctional?
"Debriefed?"
"No, de--. . ."
"De-stressed?"
"No, de-. . .de-. . ."
"Decompressed? "
"Well that's not it, but it's something like that."
Essentially, her son was training to be 'at home' again. Where you don't have to draw your gun if you hear a noise. Where your friends don't suddenly die in conflict. Where death is not an imminent possibility, or probability, of each day.
The USA military is now taking steps to ease Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Yay!
I heard on the radio a while ago that cancer patients also face post traumatic stress disorder. Sure, the stress is certainly not that which soldiers face. But we can see how it could be the same emotion.
For cancer, you go in, sign in, have body parts removed, undergo chemical attacks on your whole body system. Tough stuff, and emotionally-jarring, too. Pretty girls have their breasts removed. Cool guys have their prostate under the knife. Sorry, that leg has to go. And would you like to sign up for an additional chemical trial?
Some cancer patients and caregivers take a pragmatic approach to cancer.
"Right-ho! Cancer! Gotta have surgery, and chemo, so be it. But we might as well use this experience to benefit all!"
And so they face cancer with not too much panic, but with good intentions, helpfulness, humor, prayer, good diet, exercise, whatever. Looking good. It's tough. It's a year of being sick, probably hairless. The family calls daily. Old friends resurface with cards and presents. People on the street see the bald head and offer hugs and prayers. Many cancer patients thrive on all of the goodness that their family and community gives. The impact is 10 times more than the effort, and we TOTALLY appreciate it and thrive because of the many levels of support!
But THEN the cancer goes away.
This is where the PTSD comes into play. . .
The Tumor is gone. The hair is back. The patient has readjusted her wardrobe/gait/sex life to accommodate the life-altering body changes that came with surgery.
No-one on the street sees this new (yet quietly weakened) self as a cancer patient. They think she's just a little slow-moving.
Friends are pleased that you're better, family has ceased to book plane tickets to visit now that you're not about to die. The cards stop coming. Cancer's over.
Bye! Have a nice life!
Surviving cancer has a secret downside that nobody talks about. It's like going to the hospital to have a baby and you come back home without the baby, and you feel empty and crushed because you had totally restructured your life for no result. And even your family will not send congratulatory cards if there is no actual baby. You're done.
And so now you're expected to turn your life around in a complete revamp AGAIN to make it full of life when all you can think about is. . .
The good part is good. Soldiers come home.
But the bad part is that cancer patients can't just wake up one day and say "Oh, OK Everything is fine now so let's forget all about what happened."
We're still in the throes of this. . . we still need the support that we had when our needs were more obvious. Our entrails that were hacked out still leave scary shadows.
But when we go into remission, most of us can kiss our support group goodbye.
My friend just got through hubby-with-cancer. Her hubby survived quickly, but has decided to not ever mention cancer again, while my friend, as we figured out, is in PTSD.
"That's why I called," I said. "Once it's all done, that's when you REALLY need support!"
We talked about it. Does nobody realize that there are repercussions to the trauma of cancer?
"So how are you getting through this?" she asked.
"It's easy for me," I said, "because I'm back into chemo."
Love sending selfies to my supportive friends. . . is that dysfunctional?
And for a little more fun, follow this link to an ABBA song on You Tube. . .you know you want to.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S68Sc_SoelY&spfreload=10
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S68Sc_SoelY&spfreload=10
So true - we are all wrapped up in our little circles of getting through each day. getting through your day is a lot bigger than getting through mine but i think mine is hairier.. :) x
ReplyDeleteLove you too! You just had to mention "big" though, huh? Must start doing pilot-ies. Saving up any air miles?
ReplyDeletePTSD is very real. It can affect anyone for any traumatic situation and it can develop decades after the event. I researched it while writing a book and have suffered a mild form myself which I overcame with talking therapy. Having been to 17 funerals and seen many people I loved/love so much go through the pearly gates I have changed how I feel towards death. It's a part of life, a life that should be enjoyed every single day. I love your scribes Leslie and would love to meet you and give you a hug. Have a virtual hug and a big smile from me, Sally xx
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sally, we're all in this together! Every kind word gets us through another day! (is that why old ladies talk to themselves?) Your hug feels great even from a distance!
ReplyDeleteSnail Mail Therapy. :)
ReplyDelete. . . works well!
ReplyDeleteWe will always be here for you!!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you! I know if I went into total remission you'd be there just as strongly as before. (actually, I think my brief pseudo-remission is when we got closer first, yeah?)
DeleteHi Leslie, I just started reading your blog tonight. I hope that you know that I'm here for you. I think you look beautiful, you are so smart, wise beyond your years, and an inspiration to all of us. A reminder for all to stop and smell the roses, listen to the singing birds, and appreciate life and nature all around us. I feel very blessed to call you my friend. And on another note your baby pigeons are growing and starting to get their feathers! Sending you BIG HUGS. Call me if you need anything or want to just stop by anytime.
ReplyDeleteNeedless to say, I'm pretty excited about my growing flock of homing/carrier pigeons. (Pigeons are 'The New Texting.' They are SO much faster than snail mail, or my local internet connection.) Thank you Vee, you are much appreciated in so many ways!
DeleteHi Leslie...Have been following along...your writing is beautiful...why did you get an MBA when you have such wonderful writing skills...bet they never showed up in all the papers you wrote through those college days....I hated all that false garbage I wrote in my program..such GARBAGE..never made a difference to anyone...thinking of you often..
ReplyDeleteGlad you like it, Sharon! I WISH I could write well, I hope that this blog will help me! As for grad school, "Privatization of Prisons: The ABC's" and "Smokey the Hypodermic Bear" were pretty fun papers. . . probably only made a difference to me, but it was worth it.
DeleteYou learned how 'involuntary' acquiescence rarely stays silent forever. Having you know that and your ability to voice it makes a huge difference for everyone.
2016 doesn't seem possible. When I was in the 5th grade I thought 2017 would be my last year. I heard nobody wants to be 100...until they're 99.
ReplyDeleteI had PSTD after coming out of my 15 day coma - I still feel traces of it when I'm in bad traffic. I worry someone will drive down the sidewalk & run over me.
There's lots of ways to die and one is as good as the next. You'll always be the most important person I ever met.
I certainly won't argue with someone who was found dead at the scene and lived to talk about it! I'm glad you're alive. I think having a 'heads up' for death is easier for everyone than to have their head squished by an 18-wheeler (and you STILL look good!).
ReplyDelete