[2023-08-07] Staying in the present and serving others
I got my drain out today. It had never produced more than 20 mL of fluid per day since my emergency surgery last Thursday, but perhaps it was a necessary precaution. The two previous times the drains were removed, I didn't look at them after they had been removed from my body. This time I did, curious as to what a drain looked like. The part that had extended into my body looked to have been about 4 inches long; it reminded me of a small, white garden hose with holes in it. Drains are unpleasant to have removed, but the pain goes away quickly. CBI Health nurse Jessica did a very good job of minimizing the pain today.
It will take 3-4 days for the pencil-sized hole where the drain came out of my body to close up and a few weeks beyond that for it to heal completely. It will likely take longer than that for my right breast to heal from all the trauma it has experienced over the past four weeks. And I still have another week of antibiotics to go. As I said to my son, the antibiotics are kicking my ass, but I'm fighting back with probiotics, yogurt, Digestive Biscuits and frequent naps.
In some ways, it feels harder to bounce back mentally from this latest setback. My previous medical interventions were for the purpose of dealing with existing cancer or precancerous cells, whereas this latest medical intervention was a choice I made to get ahead of a potential cancer. It's been a challenge to stop myself from looking back and second-guessing every step that brought me to where I am today, and it's been difficult to avoid climbing the what-if tree, contemplating everything I will need to go through in the future. As I wrote previously,
The what-if tree has a sturdy trunk with strong roots at the bottom—that’s the present moment. As you climb the what-if tree, with each branching what-if scenario the branches get thinner and your footing gets shakier. At some point, it’s not useful to think that far ahead.
So I'm trying to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground. Not digging into the past or climbing into the future.
At times, I've wanted to crawl into bed and stay there, but I know that's not healthy either. I'm lucky to have the discipline of this blog to bring me out of my shell and to spur me to process all the emotions I'm feeling.
I often think about people in similar circumstances to mine who don't have a network of contacts to reach out to. I was reminded of that today when reading a New York Times article that a friend sent me this morning: How to Feel Less Lonely, According to the Surgeon General. The article, by New York Times reporter Christina Caron, picks up on a 2023 advisory issued by US Surgeon General Vivek Murthy on Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation. In his letter to open the advisory, Murthy noted that on a cross-country listening tour, he heard people describe themselves as isolated, invisible and insignificant. Murthy writes that he would hear statements such as, "I have to shoulder all of life’s burdens by myself" and "if I disappear tomorrow, no one will even notice." Among the advice Murthy provides to Caron, this was my favourite:
Serve others.
Studies show that volunteering can ease feelings of loneliness and broaden our social networks. Consider donating your time to an organization in your community, or offering to help your family, co-workers or friends.
"When we help other people we establish an experience or a connection with them — but we also remind ourselves of the value that we bring to the world," Dr. Murthy said. "And that’s essential because when people struggle with loneliness over time, it does erode their self-esteem and their sense of self. It can make them believe over time that they’re lonely because they’re not likable or they’re not lovable. And when we serve others, we come to see that that’s not the case."
I highlighted this passage when I thanked my friend for sharing the article, noting that it's easy to feel lonely when we experience something difficult, such as the loss of a loved one, an illness or a major change (such as retirement). If I hadn't started this blog, I would no doubt have felt lonely and alone, with everything I've been through in the past three years.
Sharing my story and what I'm learning has given me a purpose that has allowed me to rise above the pain, discomfort and nuisance of being ill. The support of family, friends and community members has helped me realize that I don't need to shoulder all of life's burdens myself. And your response to my writing has convinced me that if I disappeared tomorrow, some one (many someones) would notice.
