Lost identity?

[Russell's Mom]

Yesterday I walked at the Relay for Life. I had waited all day for Russell to get off work. At the last minute, he decided that "he was all done with cancer!" (But maybe next year will work.) I can certainly understand his emotion. Although many who have been supporting were there and I was part of a team, it was a wild ride of emotions. What is difficult for me, is finding my own way. Everyone seems to have an idea about how I should be, or what I should be doing. I know that comments (and looks) are intended to be helpful, or maybe concerned, but my stamina to find my own balance is shot!!! What's worse is that my motivation to pull out of it is no where to be found.... I'll spend my last breath for Russell, but right now he he finding his way...finally off of the steroids and getting his body back. My oldest just walked in and shared that he understands...Russell worked the cancer as an incoveinience, I held the fear, terror, financial +++ . I'm not sorry for a moment, I would do it again, but my foot is still caught in the trap. So greatful for this forum!!!!!!!! Take care, Sharon

[dadmo]

Sharon:
I often look at the sign in names and it's amazing how often we define ourselves by our loved ones in need. Who are we really? I know your Russell's Mom and I'm dadmo (growing up Jason was Jaymo), how many sign in as someones brother, wife or loved one. Not only has this disease defined our those we love but it has unjustly define who we are. Truthfully I'm tired of it but I can't find a way out of the maze. At ever turn I see my son's pain.

[Margaret]

I can relate sweet Sharon. Sometimes I feel more changed by cancer than even Boyce...which I am not sure how that is possible. He got cancer...still has cancer...and goes about his life. I wake up thinking of cancer, miss the connection with the cancer center, talk to people about cancer, and spend my free time trying to get more involved. Hard to give advice about this when I am so unsure of my own answers. But we love you and I am happy you are here. Russell is one lucky son!

[Karen]

Ray also is just done with it all....I tell him about every one who will be at Bill and Nancy's party next week beacuse I feel like it will be walking into a family reunion filled with hugs and talking about things in person we talk about online...and Ray will be on the fringes...and he's the one with cancer. Everything I plan is with his next followup in mind...what if we find out right before getting on a plane for vacation that his markers are up? What if we spend a week trying to relax with this over our heads and no computer for me to vent to you guys? Sharon, we have our feet still in the quicksand and Russell and Ray have shaken loose and are doing what they need to do to move on I guess. You're a safety net for Russell, even if he may not admit to needing one...he still knows you're there!

[TCLEFT]

Some Insight? I don't know but

Here goes nothing. All of my Son's friends know about me as do their parents. All have tried to talk to Christopher but he changes the subject. All he ever wanted to know from this whole ordeal was were the tumors shrinking, does Dad feel any more pain. If the answers were yes and no, he'd just say OK and head off to bed. We all deal with grief differently. Even if we're getting better we all grieve the loss of who and what we were. That has unfortunately passed on regardless. That means survivor and warrior care givers. Bill has served for his Country during war. How many of his fellow comrades can speak of what they went through? How many can speak of nothing else? For me, if I can still use my shield of humor, I can keep the demons at bay. For my Son bless that kid it means Dad's OK. For my little girl, bless her too, I think in her mind it was just a bad cold. I use humor to walk away and be done with cancer. At least on the outside for a little while. Bill addresses the disease daily, but 600 miles had to have brought him to a better place than MSK, although I really wanted some more peace of mind for my friend. Scott leads a charge that hopefully lets him leave that awful memory for a while. To make a short story really long, we all TRY to be finished with this THING. Who, the hell really wants to have it with them forever and always. Bottom line, no matter how each of us deals with this, no matter what we present to the world, that thing is with us now forever and always. That's why we need to stick together forever and always. Forever and always is when we NEED EACH OTHER THE MOST. I don't try to figure it out anymore. It just gets me fatigued. I've already had that feeling chemically induced so I try and avoid it when I can. We've all been through the mill. Maybe some of us who've gotten sick can show you we're done and all better.. see??? Then maybe you'll be all better too. Not a snowball's chance in hell, I know. We know you're tired. We don't want to hurt you anymore. Maybe one day we'll all figure it out. Until then, know you're loved and appreciated. I truly hope this endless rambling helps.
Much Love,
Mark

[Fed]

There's no possible way to top Mark's post.

Although I am most likely preaching to the choir, I will say that the individual experiences are as unique as every single one of us. My shield so far has been the science and working in the trenches, most of the times that works. I would like to say at some point "I'm done with cancer," but right now I'm driven, like Scott mentioned in a thread elsewhere, to someday "put myself out of work."

Returning to the title of the thread, I don't think I have lost my identity per se. It has certainly shifted, and I would like to think that it has moved in the right direction. To me, the big question is whether it has changed my caregivers, namely, my wife and my sisters. To this day, I have no idea how they have coped with me having had cancer. They never talk about it, and I sometimes think that I drive them crazy when I bring up conversations about the people on the Forum, the lobbying for cancer research funds in DC, and any other related issues that bring cancer to light. I don't know if they want to avoid the topic or just don't know how to approach it. I'm not even sure whether they are bottling it all in, have some other outlet for this, or even moved on. Could be ostrich syndrome, I guess, but in the meantime, I'll chalk it up on the "who knows?" column.

The one thing that I found the toughest was having been a burden on the caregivers. For that, I offer my apologies mixed in with a large dollop of gratitude. Everyone knows that cancer changes people; all I can say is that I am grateful to have this outlet with all of you here... there's strength in numbers, and with the ones here, I know we're all in good company.

[dadmo]

Karen:
Jason is three years clen on the Aug. 13th and he is only now learning now how to be a survivor. For quite a while Nancy and I didn't know if he would be at the party.

[Russell's Mom]

Your posts are so comforting. I won't say easy, but it is like a view while climbing a mountain. I tried a reply a few minutes ago and the computer timed out while I stared out the window. Remember in the movie 2001 when the guy on the space walk loses the connection and floats off into space? Remember Rose when the final blade of the Titanic went under? And Dorothy, wandering in Oz?!!! It is quicksand, it is forever and I am going to print this thread and read and re-read. The first real tears for Russell came last night while I decorated his luminaria. Then my fathers luminaria. Then thoughts for all of my cyber friends. How crazy is this!!!???!!! I hate it, but wouldn't want to give up what I have gained. I think that the grief is starting to surface and I am to fricking tired already. Tumor markers last week, chest film next week. Grieve and ready at the same time...oh why not!! Then the thought creeps in that I have much more to offer than whimping around with these thoughts. Horrible thoughts of the doctors that mis-diagnosed Russell are coming to the surface. In some ways I understand, they will have their own hell. If not, that is even worse for them...a path of their own. Maybe going crazy for a while will spill the bag of groceries and I can see what I am actually working with. I want to be a happy mom for Russell to come home to, but my foot is caught in the trap. I know that I am going to get through this and know that I would be insane if you guys were not around. I'm so tired already and crying takes a lot out of you. i think that the flood gates are starting to open. Lovestrong...Sharon

[dadmo]

I often feel as if my life is spent pacing a cage.

[TCLEFT]

I often feel as if my life is spent pacing a cage.

Didn't you once use that analogy refering to me? Nothing, least of all this THING can rob you of what you still are. I look at you Bill and I want to be better. Not just from this disease, but as a person in general. There's no denying the beast has cut us deep. You and Jason and Nancy will heal. I don't know much, but I just feel this one. Kick the door down my friend. C'mon outside. You have friends here.

[dadmo]

Didn't you once use that analogy refering to me?

Yes I did. I recognize all the symptoms. I have paced the cage often and sometimes I forget what it's like to be without the bars of cancer between me and freedom.

[Scott]

All I can say right now is thank you, caregivers. Some moments I feel as though we're all huddling together in the rain, wishing that the sun would shine. Every now and then, we notice the rainbow.

[TCLEFT]

"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to loose"
Meeting and communicating to everyone one on this forum, I find myself collecting friendships I fear loosing by the very reason that brought us all here in the first place. I'm bound to the possibility of this disease dragging down my loved ones again. I'll never be free of Cancer. I don't have the disease now however, as far as I know. I love my Family and (True) Friends, and they, me. Right now, I'm free. Any time else is just a dream or a memory.
Lovestrong, Livestrong, Live Now!
Let's blow the doors off this Devil on the 11th!!!!!!

[MRMRSU]

Yesterday I walked at the Relay for Life. I had waited all day for Russell to get off work. At the last minute, he decided that "he was all done with cancer!" (But maybe next year will work.) I can certainly understand his emotion.

Hi Sharon: I think that yesterday when Russell said that, you experienced the awful, yet classic case of BURST BUBBLE syndrome. There you were all ready to go, and the man-of-the-hour that you were set to honor didn't want to go to the ball. I can understand how disappointed you must have been. It may seem to you that you are having difficulty finding your own way, but I say that you already know the way: By recognizing how Russell needs to emotionally be able to pull away, by letting him forge his own path in dealing with this...and if it means him wanting to put this in a box and storing the "inconvenience" away from view, then I am so glad that his burden is nothing more beyond that. As a fellow caregiver, I wait patiently for the day when you and I both can say that the burden is out of our sights, too.

"Our real blessings often appear to us in the shapes of pains, losses and disappointments; but let us have patience, and we soon shall see them in their proper figures."
- Joseph Addison

[dannysbrother]

I've been reading this thread and for some reason not posted. I think the enormity of the subject for me right now is just so... fresh. It's not even fresh, it's now and tomorrow. It's hard to say what I've lost or gained because I'm still very much in the process of losing and gaining all the time. The reality of my identity today is such a warped paradox, because the life that surrounds me seems the farthest cry from any reality I've ever known. There's a shift somewhere in the midst of the chaos and fear and time and battle and waiting that alters, at least for me, my very reason for being on some levels. It is a bone shaking shift that happens without you even knowing it, and one day you look around you and then behind you and something has changed; aged. 'Shifted.' This 'something' is forcing me to question everything. everything. And I AM tired and that makes it so much harder to decipher my feelings about my life and my life to come. It's a cloud of what has been and cloud of the unknown.

I am me and nothing changes that, but I am also dannysbrother. I too am nancy and ira's son and Morrie's grandson, but my calling to be dannysbrother has never felt so strong and so necessary then now. Then again, my calling to be all of these things has never been so strong. I guess losing and gaining is something that never ceases but along the way one tries to look for solid ground upon which to take a moment and survey life. Where it's been and where it's going. This past year has been nothing but sinking sand and I'm looking so hard for a rock to land on. But you know what, I realize that a rock is coming sometime, and for now, my family is the only thing that is truly going to save any one of us from sinking too far down that sand trap. Talk about always and forever.

I know I can't let the lives and journey's of others define me, but honestly, who am I if I'm NOT dannysbrother, nancy and ira's son, Morrie's grandson? Those truths make me who I am. Who am I if not that?

Someday I'll figure out what the hell I'm doing. What the hell I'm meant to do and who I'm meant to be. I'll piece together the identity that I seem to be losing and gaining everyday.

Yes, I feel like sh!t sometimes. Lost and sh!tty.

Then, steadily somehow in the sinking sand I realize who I am.

A brother, a son, a grandson, a friend.

And the best piece of a$$ Laquisha has ever experienced this side of the Atlantic.

And no offense to you scott. I'm aware Quishy knows you too.



The yellow brick road didn't come with directions.

Livestrong
Fightstrong
LOVESTRONG,
Mikey