Be a Bird Feeder

Inspiration

Inspiration is a bird feeder. Every day we have to fill it up for it to be helpful.

Having cancer is a drag much of the time. We’re tired from the treatments, tired from trying to guess what is going to happen next, and we may not feel great, so we stay home in our sweltering, sweaty pot of woes so that we don’t bother anyone with our troubles.

We can all use a spark of something to liven up our day. It helps to get outside of the house for a time to remind us that the world still exists and to give us something to look forward to, even if we just walk around the block.

Healing Begins With Listening

 What can we learn from this book? If you’re seeing a primary doctor for the first time, and they don’t let you tell your story about what’s wrong, find a new doctor. The patient-doctor connection needs to be a relationship, not a transaction.

In her preface, Dr. Rita Charon lays out what her book, Narrative Medicine: Honoring the Stories of Illness (2006), is about: “narrative medicine [is] defined as medicine practiced with the narrative competence to recognize, absorb, interpret, and be moved by the stories of illness.” She goes on to say that it provides “health care professionals with practical wisdom in comprehending what patients endure in illness and what they themselves undergo in the care of the sick.”

When Do We Become Cancer Survivors?

 

Survivor, surviving, or treading water. Which am I? Am I a cancer survivor or still a cancer patient? They are completely different orientations with different mindsets. The treatments and therapies designed to kill my cancer are over, but it’s Schrödinger’s Box — we don’t know if all of my cancer is dead or alive until we look inside my “box.” My doctors won’t look until my PSA does something wonky. It’s a calculated unknown. Dormant cancer cells can be nudged awake by matters like metabolic changes, and what was “dead” is now “alive.” 

Some people think of themselves as survivors every day they’re alive. This is a prudent way to live. If we are never going to know for sure that all of our cancer is gone, why not focus on living as well as we can, instead of twisting ourselves into worry pretzels over everything that might go wrong?