[2023-04-15] Saturday Synopsis #39
This week's Saturday Synopsis reflects the bittersweet nature of life.
Two years ago, I acknowledged the sadness I had experienced after learning that I had inherited a mutation in my BRCA2 gene, which was not only the likely cause of my ovarian cancer but also a significant risk factor for the development of breast cancer. Ironically, it's this very mutation that opened up a supplemental line of treatment for my ovarian cancer, namely, a maintenance drug that appears to be keeping my CA125 cancer marker low and steady.
Two years ago, a woman who had recently been diagnosed with cancer reached out to me—something that occurred again this week and many times in between. I shouldn't be surprised when someone divulges they have cancer and yet I am shocked, every time.
As I look back on past posts, I am reminded of the negative emotions that come with illness but also the positive emotions that can occur as we overcome that illness and learn from it. That duality is reflected in the quote about weeds: every garden has weeds; every life has challenges.
The second quote is a poignant story that touched me when I read it a year ago and still touches me every time I read it. It captures grief, resilience and love.
3 Ideas From Me
Two weeks ago, in my post Blue sky, I shared the sadness I was feeling at the time because of the enormity of what I was facing. What I didn't share then is that, the day before, I had learned the results of my genetic testing: I am a carrier of the BRCA2 gene change, sometimes called a gene mutation.... I was initially saddened when I got my genetic testing results, but I've had a few weeks to come to terms with the information. My test results didn't change the reality that I've had the BRCA gene change since birth; they simply provided me with information that I can use to make decisions regarding additional breast screening and potential preventive surgery. Equally importantly, my results open up the possibility of genetic testing for family members, which could provide life-saving information to them that I didn't have.
A woman who was recently diagnosed with cancer contacted me the other day, acknowledging that she is gripped by fear and self-doubt. These feelings are normal, I replied. I also admitted that I face fear and self-doubt myself. In fact, I have more fear now than I did a few weeks ago. In addition to worrying about the possibility of a recurrence of ovarian cancer, I now fret that I will develop breast cancer given that I am a carrier of the BRCA2 gene change. It can all feel very overwhelming. It's important that we be honest with ourselves about how we're feeling so that we don't simply send negative emotions underground where they will fester and manifest in other ways, such as physical pain or anger.
Having cancer has made me feel sad, fearful, worried, nervous, and like I have lost so much. But it has also made me feel incredibly loved and loving, tremendously appreciated and appreciative, and immensely relieved at every glimmer of good news.
2 Quotes From Others
Have you ever seen a garden without weeds? No. None of us intends to grow weeds when we plant our gardens. But inevitably they appear. However, flowers don't stop blooming because weeds appear. Bees don't stop pollinating. Plants don't stop exchanging carbon for oxygen. We don't cease to be a garden because one day we find ourselves surrounded by weeds. Simply pick out your weeds and keep growing strong.
~ Ashly Perez
For me, music was always a great balm during periods of loneliness and pain in my life. Not sure if I told you this, but as my mother lay dying in the hospital, I told my sister I needed a short break and went down the elevator one night, around 3am, to get a coffee from the little canteen that was open all night. The ground floor was eerily quiet, and dark. The hospital was as asleep and peaceful as it can be. I wandered with my coffee and heard a faint sound coming from a side corridor leading to a waiting room for patients getting casts put on broken limbs. It was empty of course, dimly lit, so I sat down in one of the chairs and just allowed myself a few moments of solitary peace and quiet, away from the floor of very ill patients, and from the bedside of my mother, where I sat in vigil with my sister during the long nights. After a few moments, I realized it wasn’t completely quiet, there was a faint musical muzak coming through the speakers in the ceiling. As I sat there, almost on cue, Eric Clapton came on with Tears in Heaven. The words and the feelings that he put into singing that song about his son who had died tragically, were instantly relevant to me in a very profound way. I closed my eyes, put my face in my hand, tears streamed down my cheeks, and I felt as if the universe was giving me a few minutes of calm and an opportunity to reflect on what I was going through. The song ended, I dried my eyes, got up and walked back to the elevator taking me to my mother’s floor and bedside, strangely strengthened by that solitary moment to face the remaining dark hours of that night.
~ A friend
1 Question For You
What bittersweet moment in your life stands out for you?
