How I made sure my friends didn't escape me during illness

I think it's fair to say I'm a social butterfly. I'm like the mother of social butterflies. It's not that I don't like some time to myself, but I really get my energy from getting out and spending time around others.  If I didn't look so much like my mum's family, this trait would easily back up my brother's adoption argument. Much like the poor ugly duckling, I think I'm the social butterfly accidentally born into the keep-to-ourselves ladybird family. 

Needless to say the amount of time I need to socialise to stay energetic and happy in life is much higher than others close to me. It's also something that terrified me when I found out I had cancer. I remember telling a friend early on that I was terrified of going into treatment because I didn't want to become boring to be around. She assured me she thought it was an unlikely outcome but I remained unconvinced. This was a big barrier for me to have to face and what I've realised is it's not an uncommon theme in so many illnesses. 

Whether you're a socialising master or a reluctant-minimal-interaction kind of person, we are, as a species, used to having some sort of human contact. For the majority of us, we are used to going to school and then work through our lives, we have family we visit, friends we spend time with, we join clubs to do activities we enjoy. When a serious illness appears all these things become challenged. Things we take for granted in our lives. 

There can be a sense of loss of what we considered normal in our life "before illness". For me this has been a big hit, the comparison of what I could do before vs what I can do now. I am unable to work since my diagnosis and my natural interest in activities is something physical. I considered Spanish classes but during chemo I was too forgetful and my immune system too compromised for even that. The prospect of having nothing interesting to do loomed even more. 

There's also a greater need for our current support system to rally around us in our time of vulnerability and often a desire to create another support system; one that can relate to what we're going through.

I've said right throughout this time since diagnosis that I'm fortunate. Unfortunately my scan results have often been less than desirable however I remain fortunate in the response I have from my support network. When I went for my first surgery I had only been back in the country one month and three days. I'd moved back after seven and a half years living in Europe. I had friends from childhood and school visit me in the weeks after that. I don't have the ability to explain what that kind of support meant to me. But I didn't always want to be the sick person getting a visit, I wanted to be Meridee hanging out with friends.

Early on I made a decision that I did not want to be identified as cancer. Cancer Warrior is my job just like a friend may be a teacher. It isn't me. That meant my relationships were about me being with my friends. I was specific. I told friends that they needed to talk to me as though nothing had changed. I wanted to celebrate things in their life even if I may never get to achieve them. I set the terms of having a friend (an ill friend).

If you want to go out, organise to go out. I LOVE doing things. Such a vague statement and yet so true. Life excites me. Going out excites me. Being somewhere new excites me. A swing excites me. I'm essentially a puppy in human form. I'm sure you've heard the saying, if you want something done, do it yourself. So I started organising. If I saw something that interested me, I got in touch with friends who I thought might be up for it. If I thought of something fun, I told friends until I found someone else who thought it would be fun too. Then I organised it. Everyone gets busy in their life, if its jobs, kids, hospitals, they all absorb our attention. I honestly believe it's really important to do something other than the day to day.

Remain interested in other people's lives. I am well aware that my life can become absorbed in hospitals and medical management. It's not all that exciting. Not for me and not for others. Much like your work meeting was probably boring for those present and those hearing about it.
People are pretty cool. Most of them want me to stay alive and therefore care enough for updates. They are not, however, interested in every medication I'm on, my timetable of appointments or my doctor's full name and medical experience. That shit is boring. What's interesting is that, 1. I'm staying alive, 2. I'm staying alive and enjoying it and 3. My scans make me feel like I've peed my pants and a nurse got embarrassed because he had to touch my boob. I try to keep my Cancer Warrior career summary to details that run along those lines and remember that outside that I also lead a life as a human who does other things (refer to paragraph above on how to do other things). Friends are also humans who lead lives and therefore it's nice to pay attention to them. Even with chemo brain I attempted (not always successfully) to remember what was going on in other people's lives. Exams, kid's birthdays, job changes, holidays, they're all interesting because they're interesting to the people I care about. I wanted to know they're kids had started walking or speaking or even just that they had found a new technique to avoid the car seat which made life difficult for the parents and entertaining for the rest of us. I definitely wanted to talk about their holidays because travel is one of my favourite ever topics to discuss and being sick hasn't changed that in the slightest.

Find new circles. Without a 9-5, normal sort of job the times in my life changed. I often wanted to be out when most people I knew were at work. This can lead to boredom and then a decline in mental health. One of the worst feelings for me is feeling trapped in my house or, even worse, the hospital. I was pretty fortunate that almost solidly I have had at least one friend off on maternity leave since diagnosis. However they're also busy and children are a bit germy for a person with a compromised immune system. I had to choose baby visits wisely. I really wanted to meet other people around my age who were also having to deal with cancer. It was a bit of a double edged sword, I didn't want other people my age to be going through this and at the same time I wanted to meet those who were so someone else could relate. I told everyone involved in any part of treatment that I wanted to meet other people my age and eventually it worked out. Through some chatting in chemo, chatting in a waiting room and a group for young people starting at the hospice I found my little group of lovely, Cancer Warrior women who were around my age. We made an effort to keep in touch with each other. We found common interests and did things together. My new circle did not replace my old circles it just gave me another area of support and another place I could fit in.

These three things have made a significant impact on me staying just the normal level of crazy.

Old Pooh Bear is a pretty smart character at times. As he says, "You can't stay in your corner of the forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes". Staying social and not losing your connection to those who matter is such an important part of coping with illness, or any life change, in my mind. To ensure my connections didn't disappear I have done what I can to avoid just staying in my corner of the forest. I've worked at making sure I get out and go to others whenever I can.

Remember, even in illness, you're still the wonderful person your friends and family adore. Gift them with your presence.