Guest Blog Series - Lone Wolf

Several days ago, a girlfriend shared a brilliant idea with me. She said, "What about guest blog posts?" It came as a solution to share other people's stories since I get sick of writing about me. You'd normally never hear about any of these folks because unlike me, there are people who fear repercussions from being honest about their diagnosis. And sadly, from the stories that I've heard, their often not wrong. Once we know something about a person, we can't un-know it. And that becomes an issue regarding employment; our stories change how we are viewed. 

You guys know me, I have no filter (or a very weak one), and I just speak. But there are times when I've regretted writing this blog. It's rare, but it happens, and it's because I know that the interwebs are eternal. If I apply for a job, there is no hiding my story. I can't disguise what I've gone through, the deficits I deal with. For certain lines of work, it's unappealing for employers to hire cancer patients, especially depending on the specific diagnosis, and prognosis. It's just a fact. Anyway, I reached out to one of my tumor friends, one who is living in solitude with her diagnosis. 

My goal in sharing these stories is several fold. I want patients to have an outlet, to express themselves anonymously. I want to give a voice to different stories so that people learn the dynamics of disease. I wish life was easier, that we could all share our truths openly, but if we can't, at least we can have a format to do that here. I have no idea if there will be others who would be interested in sharing. I really hope there will be more patients, caregivers, family members, friends, etc. that would be interested in sharing their views, their experiences. I wanted to provide this slot for guest writers, because I get to hear these amazing stories, and I learn so much. It makes me a better person, it helps me understand the myriad of lives on this earth. The more I learn about other people, the more compassion I have, the more I can love deeply and be patient, and kind. And it's interesting to hear what other people go through, to hear their perspectives. I hope this provides a benefit to those who choose to write a guest post, and a benefit for those who read them. 

The goal is to start by publishing a guest post once a month. Please let me know if you would be interested in contributing. Let me pull from two posts ago, "your story is enough". Let's learn from each other. I hope you enjoy.

"I love trees, especially when seasons change.
I love their stability, strength, and endurance." - Lone Wolf

“My Story”

So I am sitting here thinking …. “This is the first time I am going public about my diagnosis and yet I am using a pen name…ugh.” There is a reason I assure you.. Ok … So where do I begin? Honestly, I am not sure where to start. I guess I will start on the day my life changed forever, but first let me provide a little history. I am a 30 something mother of young children. I am a licensed mental health therapist, and I have been married to my high school sweetheart since, well forever.

On April 2nd, 2013 I went to the ER because I was having a pretty bad headache. A few days prior I hit my head very hard on our glass shower door. Of course this was because my puppy was up to no good and I went to quickly check on her and BOOM … there goes my head. Anyway, due to the headaches, my husband suggested I go the the ER in case I had a concussion. The ER visit went from “hey your young but let's do a CT anyway to now we need to do a MRI.” Honestly, I thought that I had bleeding in my brain and I was terrified. After my MRI, the doctor returned, and the nurse took our kids out of the room. I began to cry before he spoke because I knew it was going to be news that would forever change my life.

I will never forget that the doctor sat very close to me and said, “You either have MS or a brain tumor.” My husband and I sobbed for several minutes, but then I quickly remembered that my children are down the hall coloring and I need to be strong for them. I had to be!!!

Through time I visited several neurosurgeons, neurologists and neuro oncologists. Hey, I was on an interviewing tour. Remember we pay them!! After speaking with several specialists,  I was preliminary diagnosed with a low grade glioma. You may be wondering if I had any symptoms. The answer is no, not one. The neurologist did put me on Keppra (anti-seizure) just in case. However, three days after I decided to stop taking it I had a small focal seizure in my right arm. So my neuro oncologist decided to take away my driving privileges. Of course I would NOT let that happen!!! I have three very active kids. Therefore, on July 1st I chose to have an awake craniotomy. Ok … I have to be honest here; my two c-sections were more uncomfortable and nerve wracking compared to this craniotomy. All in all, the craniotomy went well and I had over 90% of the tumor resected. 

So pathology .. What's the news? Diffuse Astrocytoma, Grade II. Now this is when my dear old friend Google became my worst nightmare. Search after search said I was going to die and worst of all the time frame in which I can die varied. So here I am “the mental health therapist” that has dealt with everyone else’s crisis now in the middle of her own. Yeah .. I know all the coping skills, to accept what you cannot change, to move forward not backward, to reach out for help, to assess signs of depression and anxiety, etc. However, during this time I was literally a “hot mess.” I was on roller coaster of emotions that never stopped. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't look at my beautiful children or husband, I couldn't look at the sorrow on my parents faces. It was such a dark place in my life and I refuse to go back there. It took so much time to get from there to where I am today. I would love to share this in posts to come. However, I say that the one thing that ignited change was when a woman told me that I live in a house of depression. This shook me to my core. You see as a therapist I have worked with many children and see the ripple effects the parents actions can have on them. At that point, I became stronger, a fighter and a thriver. I have met amazing people along the way, including Jess. Jess and I have a lot of similarities, including diagnosis, but we are similar in one very important aspect … Yes we still live in fear of the unknown but we live, love and laugh as much as we can because guess what … no one makes it out of this world alive! So maybe, and that's a big maybe, my time is shortened but having to face my mortality everyday gave me the beauty of living in the moment. Ok .. Ok .. I can go on about that forever so instead I will address why I have a pen name.

When I was first diagnosed, many people I encountered felt sorry for me. They pitied me. Every face I saw had sympathy written all over it. One thing about me is that I have always been a go-getter. You know, nothing can stop me!!! However, I began to notice that their pity weakened my strength. It just dragged me down. Let me tell you, as a therapist, I  am highly trained on empathy versus sympathy. It was interesting to experience the two first hand. This actually helped me to become a better therapist. So after this experience I limited who I told. I never EVER tell my clients because their sessions are about them … NOT me!! Also, my job doesn't have a clue. I want to be seen as a qualified therapist and not “the woman with a brain tumor.” Oh and get this,  I use medical marijuana. Yeah … Not such a fun conversation to have with parents at one of my kids next game! So, for now, I have a pen name to protect my job, my license, and my children, but as my sister in law always says “I cannot wait for your ‘I’m coming out party!!!!’” Me too!! This baggage is too heavy for me to carry, BUT if I face sympathy, pity or judgement this time around I will be well prepared to point to where the door is!!! As someone I love always says to me and now I say to you, “Light and love.”

- Lone Wolf

Astroturfing

My brother sent me this 10 minute talk by investigative journalist Sheryl Attkisson and it changed my life, and scared the shit out of me. As a person who avidly researches, this floored me. I understand that information is widely manipulated, but I had no idea that it was this bad. It's terrifying, and disgusting, and it makes sense. I hope you find it as interesting as I did, and half as disheartening. Think again about what you think you know, and who you think you can trust.

"In this eye-opening talk, veteran investigative journalist Sharyl Attkisson shows 

how astroturf, or fake grassroots movements funded by political, corporate, 

or other special interests very effectively manipulate and distort media messages."

So what do you do? How can you protect yourself? How do you know what to believe? How much further can you really get with a discerning mind if there's so much conflict of interest, and little disclosure? Sheryl has some tips at the end to help you analyze distorted media.

This is a major issue for me with research studies. There are drug companies that fund studies, or they donate [endowments] to [medical] schools within colleges. It's blatantly a conflict of interest. Everything is so tainted, so tangled. Where's the truth? How is it that our knowledge base that is our researchers, and scientists are so exploited? You could even go as far as say they're bought. It's getting uglier and uglier, and I don't see how people can wade through the sludge to protect themselves. It's just gross.

No Model

A couple of months ago a patient told me that I'm a role model, and it completely freaked me out. That is a ton of responsibility. I don't want to model anything other than my own behavior. How can I be a model for others, what if I have a recurrence? Will patients think they're going to die too? That we're all doomed? That's how I feel sometimes when tumor friends have recurrences. I don't want that on my hands. What if I just want to eat crap for a year and see what happens? You can't do that if you're a role model. When you're a role model you're held to a higher standard; there's good behaviors that you're supposed to exhibit. You're supposed to lead by example. That's a lot of responsibility, and it's definitely too much stress. I'm not trying to be perfect, I'm just trying to be me. And sometimes that means mimosas and scones. And what brain tumor role model would encourage that? (Sugar on sugar on alcohol?!) A naughty one. One that shouldn't be looked up to. 

A couple of days ago I removed my favorite Buddhist saying and replaced it with this.
I like to think I made it up, but probably not.

Last night, a friend helped me see that I am not other people's stories. That when I help, I don't have to own what people are going through. I can assist in a time of need, hold their hand in a moment, but allow and encourage people to continue on without me. It feels a little bit like accelerated parenting. Help people find their wings by connecting them to other people and ideas and resources. It's easier said than done, but it's a lesson we all have to learn. In life, we connect, even if we don't want to. There's these invisible strings that pull us together spiritually, emotionally, physically, and if you're dealing with heavy stories all the time, you can become tangled. Tied up. And that's where I was, in a balled up mess, until she helped me break loose. 

Someone asked me last summer, "What gifts has cancer given you?" And at first I wanted to blurt out, "A horrible case of paranoia." But then in an epiphany, I saw a slideshow of faces, of all the interesting, caring, brilliant people I've met because of my diagnosis. Many of the people, most actually, who read the blog, don't comment. They're private, but they can somehow relate to what I'm feeling, to what I'm going through. Some have had cancer, others are currently undergoing treatment, and most are healthy, but what I write has struck a chord in them. The biggest shame, is that there are exponentially more people who read this blog than engage. I wish people felt comfortable, and it's my fault for not facilitating it, to comment more, to create dialog not just toward me in private emails, but amongst each other. Maybe people don't realize it's easy to post anonymously, or use a pseudonym. 

I feel strongly that we have to be the change we want to see. And sometimes, eliciting that change is just talking. It's getting the information out there. It's discussion. It's provoking thought. We learn invaluable information from others, and I can't express enough the powerful conversations that I've had between patients. They have altered my view on various things, and helped me evolve. But the conversations are private, and I'm not at liberty to share. If only people could open up, even anonymously, we could all benefit. There have been many times that I stopped writing because I thought that my story, my thoughts, my experiences, held no value, so I didn't bother, only to find in private conversations with friends, that my views and stories helped them. So the next time you think you don't have anything to contribute, please think again. Sometimes it's not what you bring to the table, it's the responses that are elicited and the trajectory of problem solving, of piecing things together, with multiple minds, that blow us away. The most beautiful thing would be for readers of the blog to begin dialog even with each other. I field so many email questions, but what if a person chose to post a question in the comments, they could do it anonymously, and just see what people suggest for solutions, or just share their knowledge. The more we talk, the more questions will come up, the more problems we could address, the more we could educate ourselves.

I have grown by sharing my story. It has made me a better person. I took a hiatus because I became overwhelmed, but with the right tools, by setting some boundaries, I think I can continue, and be better for it. It sucks, but no one is going to set your limits, you have to do it yourself. Kinda like the dishes. Okay, that was dumb. But, you know what I mean. I could have shriveled away from the blog, and in essence, I did, but it would be a shame for me to lose the magic. It has brought me so much joy, revolutionized my damaged brain, given me hope, and love, and friendship.

Thank you for giving me space, and also encouragement while I was away. The most powerful thing I've heard lately, was, "Your story is enough." I never feel like I do enough, and to be given permission to own that as a fact - that I am enough - was powerful. I'm absorbing it. I hope you can except it for you too.