[2020-12-30] Identity
Who knew there was a Pyjama Day 6? This is a first for me, reflective of the more challenging recovery I'm experiencing after chemotherapy #5. However, despite my continued queasiness, my mental energy was back in fine form today. This seems to be my pattern: mental energy returns first, followed by physical energy.
One of the first things I did today was to make a number of donations that had been on my to-do list and finally made it to my to-day list. The first was to Ovarian Cancer Canada to match a donation by my staff; I was very touched by their contribution and wanted to acknowledge it in a comparable way. The second donation was to the Terry Fox Foundation, which has a matching program for the holidays: all donations received by December 31 will be matched, dollar for dollar, up to $200,000. The third was to Lanark County Mental Health, an organization that provides mental health services in the county where I grew up.
The next thing I tackled was to build a calendar for my blog. In a single webpage, accessible from any page on the site, readers can find links to all previous posts, organized by date. I'm really excited about this addition to the blog, as it makes it more functional for readers, not to mention me. While I've always been pretty handy with technology, I've never learned HTML, so I'm pretty amazed that I've been able to publish a website. In the past four months, I've learned a lot about Evernote, which I use to write the posts, Postach.io, which I use to publish the posts, and Canva, which I use to make all the visuals (I have no affiliation with any of these organizations). I've learned their quirks and figured out how to overcome several issues. I would happily share what I've learned with anyone I know who wishes to publish a blog.
I'm also delighted to share that I have expanded the platforms on which I am publishing a link to my posts. As early readers know, I was reluctant to go public, first sharing my posts with family, friends and coworkers via email only. Once I found Postach.io, I was able to post my articles on the web, and started providing links via Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. As of yesterday, I am now also posting to LinkedIn.
I think it's taken me this long to get to this point because I didn't want my life to be defined by cancer. For the first week after I was diagnosed, I kept working at my job, going to meetings and speaking to people as though nothing had changed. My identity was "Assistant Deputy Minister of Communications for Health Canada and the Public Health Agency of Canada," not "cancer patient." But, like it or not, I was now one of the many millions of people afflicted with cancer and one of 3,100 Canadian women diagnosed with ovarian cancer every year.
I've come to realize that although my life isn't defined by ovarian cancer—after all, I'm a wife, a mom, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a niece, a cousin, a public servant, a boss, an employee, a colleague, a writer, a blogger, a dog owner—I am increasingly comfortable with thinking of myself as an advocate, raising awareness about ovarian cancer. I'm also a storyteller, sharing my experience, day by day, of living with—and, I hope, overcoming—ovarian cancer. Even while undergoing treatment, I am enjoying life: laughing freely, loving deeply, eating heartily, playing thoughtfully, connecting widely, appreciating genuinely, writing profoundly, walking energetically, reading frequently.
As one new friend, recently diagnosed with cancer herself, said, "we need to demystify living with cancer, as it is a reality for some of us, and we can still enjoy the little things while life happens." And that sums up well what I'm trying to do with Jenesis: demystify cancer (especially ovarian cancer) and its treatment, provide hope and joy in the midst of adversity, and share wisdom that I acquire or others impart to me, including the visual below. Some day, we will all die. But on all the other days, we will not.
