Tuesday, August 2, 2011

I̶'̶l̶l̶ ̶N̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶B̶l̶o̶g̶ ̶A̶g̶a̶i̶n̶

Driving with Myrtle and Faith yesterday I said "I know it's cliché sounding, but I really look at the world differently since being diagnosed with cancer."

Faith replied, "What's the best part of that?"

"That I now look at the world differently."

Partly what prompted my comment was some crazy driver in the other lane, she wasn't driving super crazy, just too crazy around my family. It seemed like all the other cars on the road were a bother to her. We, our car and the others on her road, were just getting in the her way. How dare we!  What were we thinking?! 

If present day Ruban met up with not so long ago past Ruban I'm not so sure what we'd have in common. On the surface we'd be identical, our love for swimming, U2, Mexican cuisine and ice cream would be the start of a beautiful bro-mance. But after a few man-dates, we'd drift apart with him seeming crude, and me sounding like a prude. Present day Ruban felt sorry for the crazy driver, being so wound up. Not so long ago Ruban might've honked and glared at her as she whizzed past us. 

Yes, looking at the world is a different experience for me. If fatherhood and beating cancer in the same year doesn't shift ones focus, maybe nothing will.  

I did end my last blog ahiptumor.blogspot.com. I was tempted to write in it more, but I just wasn't the same guy inside who started writing it. Reading from it felt either foreign or too emotional. 

For kicks I now blog the dreams as I remember them and when I have time to type them out youwereinmydreamlastnight.blogspot.com. Most comments about that blog have been unfavorable. What can I say? I guess my dreams are less interesting then a me dying a slow death.

Today I had my follow up appointment at the BC Cancer Agency in Victoria, BC. They had me fill out a questionnaire. Then a med student came in, Jack, and he asked me the questions I just filled out on the questionnaire. Then the real doc came in, Dr. Wai, and she asked me the same questions. She felt my throat and arm pits for lumps. Then she felt my back and my tummy. After she put on gloves and probed deeper. Do I send her flowers, or does she send me flowers? Either way, I'll be getting an appointment card within three months to for fluid sample and a CT Scan. In between now and then some physical rehab is on the agenda.

For those who care or are g̶o̶s̶s̶i̶p̶i̶n̶g̶ writing fan-fiction about me might be interested to know that I'm off my crutches (hopefully for good) and I'm still healing. I had a lot of radiation, literally the med student's eyes popped out and jaw dropped when he heard how much. Hopefully Jack can learn what a poker face is, it's less jarring on the patient and families nerves. The oncologist today did say I statistically have 50/50 chances of survival. Clearly she doesn't know me. Upon further thought, she should be sending me flowers.

I don't mind people asking me details, if they really care and aren't just curious. There's a HUGE difference between a friend caring enough to ask how my family is and/or doing something thoughtful to lift our spirits than bumping into someone who says "Uh, I heard from ______ you have cancer, what does it feel like? Well, if you need anything let me know."

I've only shed tears twice since my last blog entry. Both sound like pity parties, but only one was. My pity party was a Sunday morning waking up to no one home. I was too tired and sore to attend church with my family. Knowing their lives go on without me triggered some tears. But life must go on and it does. Thank goodness!

The other teary time was the night before. I went out in the rain to the market on my trustee crutches. As I entered the store and my feet were on the carpet and as my wet crutches hit the shiny floor they slipped from under me. Steadying myself strained my hip where the tumor i̶s̶ was. 

Later as I laid in bed hoping to sleep trying to ignore my fresh injury and the radiation side effect of feeling the need to pee when there's nothing to pee. Frustration set in. I realized no one really cares. 

Now, of course people do care, I know that. But it was 11 o'clock at night. Do I call anyone that said to me "If there is anything you need you let me know." "Hello, yes it's Ruban, 'member how you said if I needed anything? Well, I'm having a hard time relaxing because it'll feel like I would pee my bed if I do, logically I know that won't happen. ...BUT it would be great if you could tell me a story to take my mind off this faux full bladder feeling and the reason why I have these side effects so I can sleep and wake up and spend time with my daughter when she is awake." No one really cares that much. Unless you pay them. And that's okay.

It wasn't a "Woe is me." Just a wake-up call. Some parts of life, struggles and victories are just meant to be me, myself and I. We three knew there would be a time when my cancer would be old news to people. Friends and family now call less as life is normalizing*.

I don't want to talk about it all the time either, or blog it. So, in the meantime I'll blog about this and that. ahiptumor.blogspot.com is retired, by default I'll write about life as a c̶a̶n̶c̶e̶r̶ ̶s̶u̶r̶v̶i̶v̶o̶r̶  guy thriving post cancer treatment.

*Wasn't sure if normalizing was a word until I typed it. It does sound a little made up, no?

P.S. If you read this far I might as well say how I'm doing. I'm doing good, life is uneven and complex at times, but I'm doing good and look forward to having a clean bill of health.

1 comment:

  1. I'm not working this summer and I like to stay up really late. If you want to swap impersonal stories or interesting blog sites, I'm your man. I get the same self-pity/I'm so alone/nobody understands feeling sometimes, and I don't even have the pitiful excuse of having been through a horrendous health problem!
    I find that watching movies on netflix and doing FamilySearch indexing simultaneously helps the alone time fly and gives you just a tiny boost from "serving others." Although I often opt for Spider Solitaire instead of Indexing with my flix, too. Nobody's perfect...
    PS - How is anyone going to know that I'm 3 likes worth of hilarious when you obliterate my face like that?