Finding the Positive in Difficult Times

                 This blog is a place where I share thoughts and ideas about mental health. I often share strategies I employ in my own life. I try to be as open as I can. There is no healing without honesty. I am always honest when I write here. If I wasn’t honest my words would not help others and likewise, they would not help me. So, today I want to share that I am struggling with some things. My goal in sharing is to bring hope to myself and others.

                  This morning I had an appointment with my primary care provider, Cristina. I shared with her that I am struggling with several things. Our conversation helped me. I am basically overwhelmed. Not only do I deal with my mental and physical health struggles, but I am also faced with my mother’s illness, which has brought up a lot of emotions for me. I am also preparing to return to work after being off for two years while fighting stage 4 metastatic breast cancer, a disease I wasn’t sure I would survive. Returning to work scares me. Am I ready? Will a principal want to hire me with my restrictions? My last teaching experience was not good. I worry that teaching is no longer the profession for me. I also have this ridiculous fear that my cancer will return as soon as I start a new teaching position. I guess this fear isn’t that ridiculous. My cancer is one that will return. So, I know cancer is not done with me. I just don’t know when it will rear its ugly head and interfere with my life again. 

                  Back to my conversation with Cristina. She said some things that really impacted me. She shared a story about someone else struggling with cancer. It makes me sad to hear about others facing this illness and knowing they struggle with the same emotional aspects that I have faced. Knowing I am not alone is comforting. It is not that I want anyone else to suffer, but it helps to know it’s not just me. 

Cristina listened to my fears. Then she turned them around. She told me I had to find the positives in what was ahead of me. I listened as she put a positive spin on my return to work. She was realistic yet reassured my cancer fears. She told me not to focus on a date. What I took from that is that I need to live in the moment. Cancer will come back, but like my oncologist, Dr. S, says, she will be ready to treat it when it does. Fear can’t help me. I need to remain positive that I will fight again and beat cancer.

Cristina also reframed my return to work. What if I like my new teaching position? I can’t focus on the negative. Sure, I don’t know where I will end up teaching or what I will end up teaching. I taught for 26 years. I can face whatever I am presented with.

My mental health issues are going to follow me into every aspect of my life. That is just a fact, but I am prepared to deal with that. I have my treatment and therapy. I have my mental health team. I have Cristina. I have my aunt. My fears about cancer and returning to work are fueled by my anxiety. In my last post I discussed noticing thoughts. I think that is what I need to do with these fears. I think that is what Cristina was telling me. Notice a thought, acknowledge it, and move on to something positive. 

I didn’t really acknowledge the other area I am struggling with.  I am watching my mother’s health deteriorate. It is hard. It brings up a lot of issues for me. How can it not? I need to allow myself to acknowledge my thoughts about her and what is happening. I have no control in this situation other than the control of my own response to it. I have found that allowing myself to write about it helps me. So, I will continue to do that. I choose to keep that writing in my journal because it is not something I am ready to share. 

This post feels like it is all over the place. I am going to let it be because that is where I am at right now.  I think I need to go back to what Cristina said about focusing on the positives. It is that focus that carries us through difficult times. Sometimes we need other people to remind us that we are on the right track and that we are going to be okay. We each have struggles and it is easy to get caught up in the negative. But what if we chose to focus on the positive outcomes that are possible. Can we manifest those positive outcomes? I don’t know, but I think it is worth trying. The alternative isn’t very pleasant. 

I end this with a thank you to Cristina for words that go beyond caring for my physical health and for taking the time to treat me as a whole person, both mental and physical. We need more health care providers like her. 

 

Living with What Ifs

                  I woke up this morning not knowing what I would post about today. I’ve already posted about gratitude this month. Even though it is Thanksgiving week gratitude would be a redundant post. I wondered what I could write about. Then as I sat in a support group something came up for me that I haven’t explored in writing. So, I thought I would start that exploration in today’s post. 

                  “What if?” That’s a question that consumes my thoughts frequently. There are “what ifs” in my cancer battle and “what ifs” in my mental health journey. Sometimes these thoughts are scary, and I try to force them to the back of my mind. The thoughts bring tears to my eyes as they echo in my mind. I’m not sure that I am coping with them in the most productive way. It is hard to discuss these thoughts. I can express them to my mental health team at times, but even then, sometimes I don’t know how to verbalize these thoughts. 

                  Every time I feel a pain my mind jumps to “what if it is more cancer?” As I write this, I am experiencing pain in my leg that my mind tells me is cancer. My last pet scan was good, but my mind tells me it didn’t scan my whole femur, and that the cancer wasn’t caught. A ridiculous thought, but a thought that scares me. After I complained about the pain to my primary care provider, she ordered an x-ray. It has been a week since the x-ray, and I haven’t heard the results. So, of course my mind assumes the worse. I don’t see my primary for another week. That means the “what ifs” are going to live in my brain until then. 

                  The “what ifs” pop up every time I have blood drawn or have a pet scan. Is this my life now? Are “what ifs” just a part of my life? Cancer has changed a lot about my life. What if I don’t get better? What if the next pet scan shows new tumors? What if the next blood draw shows a high tumor marker? These are questions I continually ask. Unfortunately, most of the time I ask these questions in my mind and don’t hear a response that puts me at ease. 

                  The “what ifs” exist with my mental health as well. I often feel like the depression is just waiting to darken my world. When I am doing well, I wonder how long I can remain in a positive state. Surely, the darkness is lurking around the corner. What if the suicidal thoughts start again? These thoughts pop up whenever they want. They don’t care if I am working to overcome them. They don’t care if I have fought cancer so I could live these past 15 months. The suicidal thoughts creep in when they want. Treatment helps, but it is not foolproof. My mind has worked this way for decades. I sometimes wonder if the suicidal thoughts will ever completely go away. I find myself asking, “what if I could live without these thoughts?”  

                  Fighting cancer, depression, and anxiety at the same time has allowed the “what ifs” to take up residency in my brain. How can two words create such pain? I wish I knew how to make the “what ifs” go away. Sometimes I want to reach out to a friend or someone in my family, but then I feel like I am burdening them. I have my mental health team, but I wonder if they tire of me having the same thoughts. Sometimes distraction works, but I am not good at finding distractions. 

                  Maybe the “what ifs” are just a part of my life. Honestly, I hate the “what ifs”. I wish I could silence their questioning. Who knows? One day I might figure it out. Although that seems unlikely. I need to figure out how to respond to the “what ifs”. I would like to tell them to shut up. Instead, I probably need to work on responding to them with positive thoughts. If not positive thoughts, I need to at least respond with rationale thoughts. This is probably a conversation I should have in therapy. I can’t keep avoiding the “what ifs.” They are hurting me and impacting the way I cope with cancer and mental illness. I guess writing about them here is a start to dealing with them constructively. Has anyone reading this dealt with the “what ifs” in some aspect of your life? If so, what advice can you share?

 

 

Struggling with My Illnesses

                 I am having a rough time.  I don’t feel well.  In the past not feeling well physically would not be a problem.  I would have just taken an over-the-counter remedy and moved on with my day.  Now, I can no longer do that.  My head, or rather my anxiety, won’t allow me that luxury.  Cancer changed my world in so many ways.  It has required me to relearn how to live.  I have learned to fight a terrible illness.  Cancer has made me more vulnerable both physically and mentally.  As a result, I have learned to accept help.  I now understand that my life has worth.  Those are just a few of the lessons I have learned on this journey.

                  What hasn’t changed is the control anxiety has over me.  The anxiety has increased in some ways.  The last several days my stomach has been upset and I have been somewhat nauseous.  I also have pain in my abdomen near my liver.  This is the same way I felt right before I was diagnosed with cancer.  So, of course my anxiety has latched onto that fact.  I know Dr. St, my oncologist, who I really do trust, has said the liver pain is not likely to be more tumors.  She examined me just last week.  My bloodwork is good.  She has explained all of this to me.  On an intellectual level, I believe her.  I can understand that she is right.  I know I have a pet scan coming up that will likely confirm what she has already told me.  Still, with every twinge of pain and every second of an upset stomach, my anxiety screams in my head.  It tells me the cancer is spreading.  

                  I find myself trying to believe my doctor. I know she is right, but still, I am anxious. I can reach out to my mental health team, to my oncology team, to my primary care provider and her nurse, to Aunt Holly, and to other family and friends.  The problem is none of them have had cancer.  As well-meaning as they are, they have never experienced what I am going through.  Part of me says that shouldn’t matter, but on some level that I don’t understand, it does matter.  Not only do I have cancer, but I also have depression and anxiety disorders.  Each of these three illnesses is difficult enough on its own.  Combined they are hell.  

The anxiety triggers the depression and vice versa.  Worrying about the cancer triggers both the depression and the anxiety.  Not feeling well physically is picked up by my mind, which jumps in and makes me feel worse.  I hate this. 

                  The nurse practitioner in my oncologist’s office called me last week.  She told me how to handle my upset stomach.  I am trying to follow her directions, but my mind wants immediate results.  That is not going to happen.  As I write this, my mind is questioning why the antacids I took ten minutes ago aren’t working.  Of course, I need to give them time.  I know that, but the anxiety that fills my mind tells me it is not going to work.  

                  The worst part is that I have not yet gone to bed.  That is when my mind loves to attack me.  As I lie in bed, I feel the pain over my liver.  My mind shrieks, “More tumors!”  Even though, Dr. St has assured me that is not the case, my mind’s argument is compelling.  I try to replay Dr. St’s words over and over in mind.  I focus my thoughts on hearing her voice.  Despite my efforts, I struggle.  

                  This is the part of being sick that doesn’t get as much attention.  The mind games. I know it happens to some degree for everyone who has cancer.  My depression and anxiety intensify everything.  I need constant reassurance, which makes me feel guilty.  I feel like I am reaching out for help too often.  I don’t know what else to do.  That reassurance is necessary for me.  I need a lot of reassurance.  It is something I cannot control.  I try to talk myself into being calmer.  I tell myself to focus on what Dr. St said.  It is a battle in my head that I can’t seem to win.

                  I am doing what I need to do to improve my depression and anxiety.  Every day I receive TMS treatment.  I believe it will help, but again, I need to be patient.  Every week I talk to Dr. Klein.  I talk to Stephanie weekly.  I have regular appointment with Dr. S.  My mental health is being addressed.  Depression and anxiety are powerful.  They overtake my mind making it harder to fight the cancer.  

                  I wish I could sit down with someone who has experienced what I am going through and just talk.  I attend an online support group for patients with stage 4 cancer.  It helps, but it is not enough for me at this point in my journey.  I am left with the question, “What can I do?”  Right now, I am not sure I know the answer to that question.  I’ll keep searching for the answer. I’ll try to keep reaching out to my mental health and physical health teams.  I know they are willing to help and that it is okay for me to reach out.  I need to remind myself of that.

Cindi, Dr. St’s nurse navigator understands what I am going through.  I find myself reaching out to her more often.  However, I can’t do that in the middle of the night when my anxiety is at its worst.  I struggle more at night, but the days are not easy.  

                  As for the physical ailments I am experiencing, I will follow the advice I was given.  I will eat soft foods when I can actually eat and take antacids and nausea meds.  For my mental health, I’ll keep going to TMS and trust my team to guide me through all of this.  I know that overall, I am doing fairly well.  It is never going to be easy, but I need to believe it can improve.