It seems so simple.
“Hey, how are you doing?”
It’s a very common greeting when running into someone on the street, as happened several times early this morning.
But for me such a greeting poses an immediate challenge, requiring me to quickly decide how to respond.
Do I treat it as a rhetorical question? Respond with a shrug, “not bad,” and then direct it back. “And you?”
Or how about an honest reply? “Well, I’ve been diagnosed with biliary tract cancer, potentially curative surgery failed, and I expect to begin a battle for my life within a couple of weeks when chemo and immunotherapy begin.” Probably a conversation stopper.
I usually choose something in between. “Well,” I say, “I’ve been better.” It gives me a second or two to consider the degree of self disclosure warranted by the circumstances and my relationship to the person I’m responding to.
If it’s someone I know, I try to provide the basics. “Meda and I have been in California for much of the past two months as I’ve gone through diagnosis and initial treatment of a small cancer in my gut.” It’s all there in one sentence and, without lots of details, it doesn’t hit too heavily. “Now that we’re back home, I expect to start chemotherapy and immunotherapy soon.” Normalizing the whole thing.
It’s not that I’m avoiding disclosure, as you already know if you’re reading this.
But it can quickly turn into a long, complicated and muli-layered tale, more than I want to inflict on all but the most eager listeners.
Making it more complicated is the fact that I don’t really know how I’m doing.
I have not asked for or received a prognosis, but am trying to just keep moving forward a step at a time with a positive attitude.
This does complicate practical matters, as some of the questions we face, such as what to do when our car lease runs out in September, would be easier to deal with if I knew more how much future I can reasonably expect to enjoy.
But, for now, I’ll accept that tradeoff and keep moving.
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First, I’m thinking of you and wishing for you to get cured. It is a tough one. Your reaching out as you have is terrific. I hope the casting messages you are receiving helps. My best guess is that your instincts will guide you through each encounter. That’s all you can do.
A friend of mine is facing a similar situation, she just answers based on the current day. She says that it’s already there and she’s doing all the doctors say, so there’s no reason to worry more than that. Praying for you both.
All the best for you, Ian
Agreed, I find it difficult to explain anything medical-related. I recall many years ago when my mother got cancer, I would simply get tongue-tied. You have a rare gift to be able to explain all kinds of things (including this) so well. It really helps validate what we experienced for the rest of us; both as patient and caregiver. I’m wishing for a miracle to make you cancer-free!
I think you’re doing great. Your posts are excellent, we all look forward to them and that’s all I can say. One more thought, it is incredibly taxing so feel free to complain or respond as you wish in the moment. No that’s something I would do. You are a paragon of measured response.
To me, it all depends on who is asking. If it’s someone I know who cares about me, I would be honest. If it was just a polite inquiry from a passing acquaintance, them response would be different.
I echo Beverly’s thoughts exactly. I know you must be much more worried than you seem to let on, but I think measured response is probably best for now. Your audience out here is a good sounding board though and I hope you feel free to bark a bit if you’re inclined. We’re all in your corner, Ian.