Telling Your Story

Today I attended a writing workshop regarding "telling your cancer story"

We learned how there are different approaches to use in your writing, and I relayed how I found out about the second cancer's diagnosis:

"I was visiting a friend in Vegas and reading some odd and cryptic status updates my Father was posting on FB.  I knew something was up,  and I texted and called to ask what was up, but Dad fibbed and said everything was fine. When my parents picked me up at the airport a day later, the bomb was dropped.  He had cancer. I cried. We all did. And I thought, here we go again. And then we will wait for the doctor. Why again? I then did some reading of my own and determined with my non medical degree, that he was symptomatic of B12 deficiency and that was pretending to be his MDS (Myelodysplastic Syndrome). I even went so far to look up a supplement that would increase his platelet count and bought it and convinced my Dad to take it because if I could get his platelets high enough, I could get the Dr to admit he was wrong"

The topics drifted to many aspects of having cancer in your life. To the question of "What has cancer taken from you?", I responded "freedom from life without cancer being involved"

I was 15 at the time of my Dad's initial cancer diagnosis, and a freshman in high school.
I was slightly nervous, but it was time.  With my Dad sitting next to me, I publicly admitted for the first time that I blocked out most of his first cancer journey as a way my 15 year old self exhibited self preservation and protected me, the only way it knew how. 
I recall the large milestones, but most of my feelings were buried.

I noted in a FB post (after this initial blog post)
Prior to my father's initial cancer diagnosis, cancer was never really in my vocabulary. It was always something "someone else had." I don't even remember it being mentioned in the realm of possibility, as to what was wrong. I knew my Dad was not feeling well and in a lot of pain, but that was the extent of it to me. He was diagnosed with diffuse non Hodgkins large cell lymphoma. There was no internet, no google, no way for me to look up as I do now when we hear a new medical term. So my Mother and I supported my Dad every way we could. After school every day, my Mom would pick me up and we went to the hospital to spend time together. We ate dinner, talked, and I did my homework as my Dad received his Chemo treatments. 
Although I knew nothing of his type of cancer, since then I'm especially in tune to others who receive the same diagnosis he did.

It was the 2nd cancer diagnosis was where I really felt it and it hit me.

I looked over at My Dad, and he was beaming, as he flashed me a smile.

One in the workshop said how her kids didn't want to be known as "the kid who's parent had cancer"... I could relate to that. I was terrified of people finding out.  Not really sure why. Because I would have to acknowledge it? Because I was unsure of myself and wanted to avoid something further to separate myself from my classmates and wanted to "blend in?" 

I'm 43 now. These are feelings I've buried for the better part of 28 years. Perhaps between this and future blog posts, I can finally address those and put this to rest.

Old habits die hard, because though we are involved in the Relay for Life of Chandler as a family, I still stay on the outskirts of being completely involved, at least in my eyes. 
Every day, week, month and year is a progression in the journey for me to acknowledge and accept, my Father's cancer as part of my journey and how it shapes my life.

I participate but I am still learning how to process and TO process, my feelings, when it comes to cancer.

My friend Jenn noted:
"That's a continual learning process. And it should be really"

For me, talking about it intimately means I have to acknowledge it.

I was afraid I would get upset today. 
I was hesitant to go. 
I went out of my comfort zone,  but I was so glad I did.

I have no problem expressing myself and my feelings, especially through the written word, but in a group settling where I have to say them in front of a group, oh no!

I learned, once again, I am never as alone as I think I am with what I feel.
The same things I worry or get upset over - so do others.

The workshop will be supplemented by a FB group, where more writing exercises will be completed. I look forward to this writing journey as a step in my personal progression.