A Tale of Two Cancers

Someone asked me the other day if I felt like my Nanny’s cancer was deja vu or one continuous groundhog’s day. I’m not sure how I answered the question but it is something I’ve been thinking about. Although there are moments which seem I am repeating myself (yesterday exactly 3 months to the day I was sitting in the same radiologist office, wearing the exact same sweater)……. the answer is No.  I could chose to cry and be devastated by the news of my Nanny’s cancer but right now I am not. This is a different journey in so many ways.  The first is she is aware of her cancer and the severity and she is making active choices in regards to what she wants to do. We met with the radiologist yesterday and Nanny confirmed with me she simply wants to be comfortable and as of right now doesn’t want to think about chemotherapy or doing any other invasive procedures. Mom was never able to be at that place and until right before her death, she did not want to know the severity (although she stated she felt like it was bad all along).  The second difference is the time of year. I’ve said all along that I was glad my Mom died in the time of year she did and that spring was coming. It is therapeutic to see green and new growth. It’s a reminder of the life cycle in the world. When Mom received her diagnosis, it was Fall – one of my least favorite times of the year – everything was changing and preparing for winter. She was also sick and died during the winter – my least favorite time of the year. There was snow and cold for her appointments and treatments. Additionally, I was able to receive very little sunlight as I was working all day and getting home after dark – but of course, Kentucky in the winter is more grey than anything else.  Now I am able to enjoy the sun and warmth (on the days when it happens). The biggest change is that I’m not working full-time. I am thankful each day for the decision that I made back in February. Of course, I’ve been finishing up the class I teach at the University of Kentucky but it has been so much easier to coordinate my schedule.  I look back over the months that Mom was sick and I honestly do not know how I did what I did. However, we do what we have to do when we need to do it.  Another difference is currently Nanny’s pain is being managed and although she isn’t totally comfortable, she is able to stay at home by herself. After surgery, Mom was never able to stay by herself overnight. She lost her independence in a short amount of time.  Nanny is also approaching her cancer in a different manner. She knows about it.  “It is what it is and we will deal with it.” Part of this could be her age – she’s 86 and has for the most part had a good, healthy life. Part of this could also be she’s tired – she has just lost her oldest daughter-  who was the one who she spent most of her time with. Nanny has lost a son who lived for two days, her parents, her husband, many friends and her daughter. I truly can’t imagine how she is feeling.  The reality is my Mom and Nanny, although mother and daughter, are two totally different women. I’ve always said that my Mom was a survivor but not a fighter. I do not mean that in a disrespectful way. Mom was a worrier – about everything and everybody and Nanny has said that she is glad that my Mom isn’t here to worry. I’m not sure when my Mom became somewhat afraid of life – perhaps after my Dad’s death – but she lived with a lot of anxiety and worry.  My family will tell you that I came out of the womb a fighter. Tell me I can’t do something and I will show you that I can. I think that watching my Mom after Dad’s death also made me more of a fighter – for myself and for her. Where she saw the world as one where things happened to her – Dad’s death, her first cancer diagnosis, losing a long term job – I see it as one where I do have a choice with what goes on in my life. Although things may be out of my control at times, there is always something I can control.  I repeated to my clients that they did not have a choice that the death occurred but they do have a choice with how they grieve. I remind myself of this often and one of the prayers I have said is “Please let me make something good of all of this.”  I would also call my Nanny a fighter. Not that she has gone and made huge social changes, but she has never been one to take s*!t from the world. Although very much a lady, she knows how to deal with the world. I’ve had some conversations with her that  when I left I would think to myself “I just talked about that with my Grandmother!” Some of the topics including sex,  clothing and music. (My husband and I laugh at the differences in our grandmothers and often play the game: Things you can say to Nanny and Things you can’t say to his Grandmother). I do not look like my Mom’s side of the family. But I am like my Nanny in so many ways  ( and from the stories I am like her grandmother also)- a little stubborn, opinionated and not afraid to speak my mind. Although my Mom taught me many things, it is often the things that I learned from Nanny that stand out.  She’s taught me to appreciate being southern, to garden, sew (she bought me my first sewing kit when I went to college), to cook (but I can do nothing like her), the history of quilt making (I have never learned to quilt), to laugh and be silly. Perhaps this is odd, but we used to both love going to cemeteries and looking at old gravestones – wondering what the story was in regards to the death dates etc. (I think this was a precursor to the game I play while on vacation – what’s their story).  As most grandparents can, Nanny could be things for me that my Mom could not. I think that after my Dad died this was even more so.  I saw myself as responsible for my Mom, her care taker since I was young and that certainly didn’t stop once she was diagnosed. Although I want to do everything possible for Nanny, currently she will not allow me to smother her (I really don’t want to and plus, my Aunt has a say also). She’s reliant upon me in regards to medical questions but continues to have her opinion and will care for herself as long as she can. That is who she is.  I used to state to my clients to remember that a person often dies as they have lived.  I believe Nanny will spend this last part of her life (however long that may be) just as she has lived all of the years before. I hope that Nanny can receive relief from radiation and have minimal symptoms and have many many months of a good life.  I hope that when a decline comes that it is quick and her pain is minimal.  Although we are facing cancer again, this is not the same journey. And I know it continues to help me evaluate my own life and where I am going and what I am doing.  ]]>