Cancer Sucks, Part Four: Lessons from Cancer

This is the last post in my Cancer Sucks saga.  And its very overdue.  Life has been busy, crazy busy, these past months.  Lots of work, too much work.  Two wonderful (if stressful at times) weddings.  Vacation.  Parenting challenges.  Too much caffeine.  Not enough sleep. Lots of things I want to write about.  Things I WILL write about.  But for now, here is part four. Because I promised.  Because its important.

Lesson One:  Cancer brings out the best in people.  
Once I asked my oncologist if it was depressing working with people with Cancer.  She said no, that her patients were the bravest and best people she knew.  That she loved her patients because they were fighters.  Because they truly wanted to get better (versus some people who go to the doctor for attention, to complain, or for who knows what reason, I suppose).  I can see that.

I met an incredibly brave girl, currently fighting bone cancer, at the Oh Sweet Sadie gift show the other night.  I had found myself absent-mindedly looking at some really amazing tote bags tucked away in one corner of the large hall filled with vendors.  Mixed in with the bags was a picture of a beautiful young girl, with a caption below telling how she had begun sewing these bags while in the hospital for a YEAR of chemotherapy.  I turned around, and there she was, smiling at me.   I felt like I should say something, so I told her that her bags were beautiful, and that I was a two-time cancer survivor myself.  That was all I needed to say to be "in the club", someone safe to talk to.  She told me how she was happy because she would soon be getting her leg amputated.  Yes, happy, because the titanium replacement femur behind that long scar going down her thin leg had been causing her lots of pain and problems.  Happy not to have to use a crutch, as she had for the last two years. To be able to maybe ride her horse again.  She is so brave.  Putting on her best smile and fighting the fight.  Day after day, year after year. I went back to the show later in the weekend and bought one of her bags.  It cost more than my cheap self would typically spend, but who cares.  This girl is a quiet fighter.  A 16 year old hero. You can learn more about her, and see her bags, on her Facebook page or Etsy.

The next night I was at home feeling a bit sorry for myself because my husband was working late (again) when I stumbled upon the TV fundraiser "Stand UP to Cancer".  I had watched it last year and liked it, even bought the yellow "survivor" t-shirt, but I wasn't sure I was "up" for it again.  I decided to give it a chance.  

Ronan, age 4

Talk about a reality check.  Story after story of brave people- kids, moms, dads, people young and old, fighting the fight, loving their families, wanting to get better, participating in clinical trials to help others, even when they knew their own chances for survival were slim.  You can watch it on Hulu  and still donate here if you feel so inclined .  100% of money raised goes to Cancer research. Just be ready to maybe shed a few tears.  If you are a Taylor Swift fan, she sings a song about a boy named Ronan who died of Cancer that just might rip your heart right out, stomp on it, and then put it through the disposal before returning it to you.  You can watch her performance here, and see the reaction of the mom of the little boy its written about to the song here.   Man oh man. Big old slap in the face. I have no right to whine in the face of such bravery.


Lesson Two:  Its not about me.  
I've struggled with shyness most of my life.  Agonized about what to say, what people thought of me.   Hid in bathrooms at parties. When I had Cancer, I learned from amazing people that this was no way to live.   People like the man at church (now a dear friend), who asked me every week how I felt during my chemo.  Listened, commiserated.  He wasn't afraid that I wouldn't want to talk about it, that he would somehow offend me. I've tried to follow in his (and others') footsteps.   To remember that ITS NOT ABOUT ME.  The truth, I've realized, is that most people are too busy worrying about themselves most of the time to think about whether I looked fat, or said something dumb, or any one of a million other completely trivial things I've spent way too many hours worrying about.

This realization has helped me be more outgoing in many situations, to sit by that person sitting alone, to talk to that neighbor, to approach the person going through tough stuff, even to do better at work.  Its changed me. 

Lesson Three:  I do not have the things I have because I have earned, or somehow deserve them.  
I remember driving down the road one day during my chemotherapy and being overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude.   Feeling gratitude that I had legs that worked, that I could see, that my brain could think clearly (sometimes :). Realizing on a new and deeper level  that all that I am, all that I have, isn't the result of something I have done.  All of it, every bit, is a gift from a loving Heavenly Father.  Yes, I do have a stewardship to make the most of my talents, my abilities, my situation, that's true, but without the blessings He has given me I wouldn't be able to do anything.  Its amazing the gratitude that going through something tough can bring. Its strange, actually.   I remember thinking, Man, I used to be such a whiner, always complaining about stupid little things like my kids being snotty or tough.  Like having to drive an old car.  Stupid, stupid things.  I remember thinking that I would never whine about those things again.  

Lesson Four:  We are not alone.
Sometimes in this life people let us down.  Even our friends, our children or our spouses can let us down. Life teaches us that we just can't rely on another person to meet all of our needs.  Its not being pessimistic to say this, its being real.  Its the nature of human beings to be imperfect.  

There is, however, someone who will ALWAYS be there.  We have a loving Savior who will never leave us comfortless.  I don't think I ever felt as much love, peace and support from  above as I did during my Cancer treatment.  Because, you see, I was never really alone.  I was carried.  This was my favorite scripture during the tough times:

John 14:27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

Its still my favorite scripture today.

I'm still learning lessons from my Cancer experience. Learning to have faith.  Learning to not worry that every little ache and pain is a recurrence.  Learning compassion.  Learning to love and appreciate life and my blessings.  Learning patience and perspective.  

I've got a long long way to go, but I'm grateful for these "lessons learning".

Your Reaction to Autism- What Helps, and What Doesn't

My life is crazy busy right now.  Really really super crazy not-one-moment-to-spare busy.  Eat-too-much crap-food-to-stay-awake busy.  Can't-sleep (happens when I am overly stressed) busy.  Busy-with-mostly-good-things busy, but still too busy.  I'm going to do something about this overly-busy-ness soon, really, but right now I'm going to take a few minutes to put the busy-ness aside and write this. 

The whole fam at Soldier Hollow.

 Last night we went on a long-planned outing with the whole family (10 of us these days!) up to go tubing at Soldier Hollow with our Groupons.  Tubing when its 60 degrees outside?  Yup.  Place closes this weekend, and who knew we'd have the warmest and weirdest winter ever this year when we picked this date?  Anyway, it was lots of fun even though we only took one "run" in the sluggish slush and then got rainchecks for next season.  We ate dinner at Dairy Keen in quaint Heber City, which the kids loved for the trains going around the room and we loved for the onion rings.    Everyone was happy.  It was a great night, but a late one.  So, this morning, I decided to let the little boys "sleep in".  Mistake number one.

Because, you see, I broke the routine, and if there is one thing an autistic person doesn't like, its a break in routine. 

Before we left the house my autistic son Lucas (9) was a little more hyper than usual, climbing up and down on the furniture, running back and forth across the room, chest butting his brothers, singing whale songs (Luke's current obsession is whales), refusing to get dressed so I had to dress him like a toddler- basically not a great morning, but not a terrible one. Not that different from hundreds (thousands?) of other mornings at the Sanders house.

Then we took Max (8) to his school to check him in.  Lucas was "on one".  Running through the halls with his sweatshirt hanging off his shoulders (pet peeve of mine), pushing Jacob (5), being loud- literally bouncing off the walls.  Nothing I could do to stop him.  He ran up to the closed glass door of Max's classroom where someone (a visitor?) was up in front teaching the class and threw himself *hard* against the glass with both arms up, then loudly "melted" down the door.  Not only everyone in the class saw it, but all of the other kids who were nearby in the hall area doing reading groups, etc..  Everyone just stopped and stared. I quickly said goodbye to Max, told him to try hard and have a good day and  picked Lucas up, kicking and screaming (remember, he's nine, so picking him is getting harder and harder- what will I do when I can't carry him any more?), and carried him away as he loudly told me "I want a drink" "I don't care about you" and "I'm going to run away".

Lovely fun.  

By the time we got to Lucas' school, though, he was fine.  He happily held my hand as I walked him to his class and he told me "I love you Mommy".  That's the thing with Austism.  Thankfully, at least in my Lucas' case, the hard times don't last.

So here's the deal.  What do you do when you see a kid obviously misbehaving like this?  Do you judge the parent?  Do you think to yourself  "Why doesn't that parent control his/her child?".  Do you "tsk tsk" under your breath?  Do you turn away, awkwardly pretending that you don't see what is going on?  I know I've probably done all of these things at one time or another.   

The truth is, you don't know what is going on with that child and that parent.  Maybe the child has a disability you can't necessarily see, whether its autism or something else.  Maybe (probably) that parent is as embarrassed and dismayed (or more) by the behavior you are seeing as you are.  Maybe that parent is doing everything they can, while trying to manage their lives and their other children.  Maybe they have made great strides with that kid, but right now the kid is just having a moment. 

I recently came across a blog post about this that I really loved.  Here is the link.  Take a minute and read it.

And, next time you see a child melting down, consider what to do.  Consider looking at the parent with compassion, rather than judgement.  Consider offering to help, especially if they have younger children that they are also trying to manage.  Consider saying something like "It must be hard"  rather than "I know just what you are going through.  My little Jimmy (normal kid) once had a tantrum in the grocery store and ........."

I remember the quote I used to hear a lot as a kid.  It went something like this 

"Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his moccasins".

And for those of you who are already doing everything I said, those who support and love us and our kids, no matter how they are acting, THANK YOU.  You don't know how much it means to us. 

A Post about Cats- Sort of

Cats.  Really?  A post about cats?  Well, not exactly.

First, let me say that I am not a huge pet person because I know one of the great truths of the universe: AS MUCH AS YOUR KIDS PROMISE AND SWEAR THAT THEY WILL TAKE CARE OF A PET, THEY WILL NOT END UP DOING IT!  YOU WILL!

That aside, let me tell you about my two cats, and then let me tell you where I am going with all of this.

Suki  (from Tsatsuki, from the movie Totoro, yes really) is a quiet, petite black feline. Most of the day you wouldn't know she is in the house.  She avoids attention.  EXCEPT, that is, when you need it.  She snuggles my insecure son Max to sleep every night.  She curls up with you when you are sick.  She also, though, protects herself and her own (see Theo) if she needs to.  One time, when Jacob was a baby, he scared her while she was nursing.  The two of us were almost , literally and figuratively, scarred for life.

Theo (child of Suki) is another story.  He's big and in your face when he wants something. We have to keep our door closed or he will mall us in the morning.  Purring, moving around "kneading" you, here, there, everywhere, "Get that dang cat out of here!! (sound of cat being thrown across the room)."  Won't shut up if he wants to go outside.  Kill the cat.

I was thinking about this as I laid in bed this morning after having been woken up by Theo.

Theo is like I am sometimes.  HEY WORLD!!  LOOK AT ME!!  LISTEN TO ME!!  GIVE ME ATTENTION!!

Suki is more like my friend, who even though she is going through a life-threatening illness and dealing with her own drama, doesn't ask for attention, doesn't put on a show.  Smiles.  Asks me how I am doing.  Listens.  Is there.  Suki is like the women at church who got the most secret "love" notes when I had people write them during a lesson I taught.  Quiet, unassuming women.  Strong.  Other focused.

Not that Suki is perfect.  She scratches at the carpet on the stairs.  She jumps on the counter.  

I don't think I'll start doing those things.  But I do think I might try to be just a little bit more like her.

LESSON LEARNING:  Be more of a Suki than a Theo.