We meet a lot of experts when we are sick. We might get diagnosed by a physician or a group of physicians, then a specialist or two. After that, you may have been helped by nurses, or specialists who take your blood, maybe a pharmacist. Further down the road, you might get the help of a surgeon or a radiation oncologist. We need all of these experts. They are highly trained in their specific jobs and that is remarkably valuable to us.
However, sometimes meeting all of these people who have a bunch of diplomas on their walls can leave us feeling like we are “less than”. Remember that from school? The “less than” sign or the “greater than” sign? Well, sometimes meeting all these folks can make us feel like we have less to offer or that we as patients aren’t as important as those who help us. This is really unfortunate.
You see, every patient is an expert. I mean this in a very real and direct way. We are all experts in our condition. We are experts in how it feels to get a life altering diagnosis. We might be experts on what it’s like to tell family members that our lives have just turned on a dime. We are experts on how to wake up in the morning and get on with our day when the concerns of the rest of the world seem remarkably trivial. We might be experts on helping a friend through a tough time, or having empathy when someone is going through a similar experience.
All of these things have value in our lives as well as the lives of others. They don’t give out a PHD in Courage or a Masters in Empathy, but they should. Here’s to your expertise; both the recognized and the unrecognized; the seen and the unseen. You are an expert. You rock.
Sex. Everybody talks about it. Well, let me rephrase that… Everybody makes a joke about it and then laughs uncomfortably. In our society, we don’t actually talk about sex with any honesty or vulnerability. We pretend to be enlightened about intimacy, but try bringing the topic up around the dinner table during the holidays. Someone might choke on their cranberry sauce (not that’s not a euphemism). Eroticism is virtually everywhere. But are we as human beings getting left behind in this mad rush toward the erotic? I think so. Very few of us actually have any kind of meaningful discussion around sexuality, especially as it relates to our journey with cancer. Cancer and Sex? Aren’t these two things diametrically opposed? Nope.
Well, what is sex really? It can have so many different meanings depending on your point of view; intimacy, entertainment. Heck, I‘ve even heard a sex therapist talk about how some people use sex as exercise (I can almost hear the personal trainer yelling “C’mon give me another set of 12!”)
This is such a big topic that it needs to be given space, especially if we are on a journey with cancer. Our image of our bodies and who we are as people can change radically when we are in the midst of a major life change especially as it relates to our most intimate moments. This can bring up many questions for individuals and couples as well. But the overarching answer to most of the questions is….It’s OK. Its OK if you don’t feel sexual for a while. Its OK if it feels different. It’s OK if you’re not the powerhouse in bed you once were. It’s OK if what used to be a marathon lovemaking session is now some kissing and touching. It’s OK to not think about it for a while. Its OK to have fantasies about your radiation oncologist. It’s OK to have hot, sweaty dirty sex now that you’re a cancer survivor. And it’s way more than OK to find healing and solace in honest intimate contact.
We meet a lot of experts when we are sick. We might get diagnosed by a physician or a group of physicians, then a specialist or two. After that, you may have been helped by nurses, or specialists who take your blood, maybe a pharmacist. Further down the road, you might get the help of a surgeon or a radiation oncologist. We need all of these experts. They are highly trained in their specific jobs and that is remarkably valuable to us.
However, sometimes meeting all of these people who have a bunch of diplomas on their walls can leave us feeling like we are “less than”. Remember that from school? The “less than” sign or the “greater than” sign? Well, sometimes meeting all these folks can make us feel like we have less to offer or that we as patients aren’t as important as those who help us. This is really unfortunate.
You see, every patient is an expert. I mean this in a very real and direct way. We are all experts in our condition. We are experts in how it feels to get a life altering diagnosis. We might be experts on what it’s like to tell family members that our lives have just turned on a dime. We are experts on how to wake up in the morning and get on with our day when the concerns of the rest of the world seem remarkably trivial. We might be experts on helping a friend through a tough time, or having empathy when someone is going through a similar experience.
All of these things have value in our lives as well as the lives of others. They don’t give out a PHD in Courage or a Masters in Empathy, but they should. Here’s to your expertise; both the recognized and the unrecognized; the seen and the unseen. You are an expert. You rock.
Some quotes from The Hope Workshop for People Affected by Cancer.
“A feel good experience no matter who you are, where you are at, or where you are going.”
“This workshop gave me great tools that I will use. Amazing and Awesome!”
“Many feelings and experiences I have been having are shared by others, it was so reassuring to realize this in a happy, friendly, safe place.”
“I had such a positive session. A great combination of laughter, sharing and relaxation.”
“I feel thankful to have heard people’s stories of strength, compassion and hope.”
The Hope Workshop for People Affected by Cancer is a chance for people who have been affected by cancer to come together, tell their stories, share resources and laugh.
I must admit that I was nervous presenting the Hope Workshop for the first time. It has been my pleasure to be in many shows over the years both written and improvised, but last night was the first time I had presented a workshop. I told a buddy of mine that one of the great things about doing an event like this is that the people in the room bring so much of themselves to the evening. It was kind of mind blowing to see the group “Yes and” me like crazy!
I pretty much consider Improvisation to be magic. I have seen it used to create plays, books, films and music but I have never heard of it used to help people deal with a disease like cancer. Well, that’s what we used it for last night. The entire first chunk of the workshop was adapted from Improv exercises which helped us create community remarkably quickly and led us into the rest of the evening. People talked about really big issues in a very supportive way and in the midst of all this growth…we had fun! Big Buckets of Fun. I just felt so honoured to be in the presence of these fine people who had their own specific experience and story to tell.
In my introduction to the event, I had said that “there is lot of wisdom in this room” and I got to see that wisdom first hand as we got down to business and shared positive strategies on tough stuff like isolation and depression. At one point I was pretty much stymied by a question but the group came up with a solution remarkably quickly.
So many of us are affected by this disease and between us we have many resources and skills we can share. If I had been able to sit in a room with all the great folks I worked with last night, I know my journey with cancer would have been a lot easier. I am really looking forward to bringing The Hope Workshop to as many people as possible.
The Hope Workshop is about acknowledging where you are now, celebrating your successes and building a future. In a positive and supportive atmosphere, people affected by cancer laugh, share stories and learn techniques to start rebuilding their lives.
Here are the detes…
Thursday Oct 10th, 5-8 pm, Gilda’s Club Greater Toronto 24 Cecil St Toronto,
For more information or to register Please call Gilda’s at (416) 214-9898
So apparently Canada ranked 6th in the world in happiness in a study sponsored by the UN. Denmark was first. Kudos to the Danes!
Frankly, I thought we were a happier group of people. How could we not be with our lives awash in maple syrup, hockey and such a profundity of moose?
A whole lot of the way they measure happiness as far as I can tell is based on stuff that seems largely out of our control. Here’s a quote..
“Six key variables explained nearly 75 per cent of the variation in national scores: real GDP per capita, healthy life expectancy, having someone to count on, perceived freedom to make life choices, freedom from corruption and generosity.”
Nowhere does it mention a 60 inch plasma TV and a new season of Orange Is The New Black. I find this to be a fatal flaw in the study. In all seriousness though, there isn’t that much about our own input into the process. This is odd. What about our own POV? Does this mean that if you just take a bunch of people and put them in Denmark they would be happier? (They might, by the way, Denmark is an awesome place. “Wonderful, wonderful Copenhagen…” and all that.)
But really, finding out the criteria for the study took a bit of the jam out of my donut. It left me thinking that we as individuals have very little to do with the process, which frankly, I don’t believe at all. I don’t get up in the morning and think “Our GDP per capita is particularly zesty today! I can feel the happiness swelling in my pants!”
What about how we deal with a life altering disease like cancer? Can we be happy in those circumstances? Not all the time of course, but I do believe that by supporting ourselves, finding community and having access to resources at the very least we can increase our level of resilience and maybe, just maybe, find some moments of happiness.