Being Brave in the Face of Illness
It’s not a time for criticism
The woman was discussing a man with a cancer diagnosis. The outlook looked grim. As in a six to 24-month life expectancy grim. He was understandably thrown into a funnel of anxiety.
“I thought he’d be braver than this,” she told someone I know. Oh, and this happened at the graveside service of a funeral.
He had been stressing. A lot. It wasn’t for himself. He is a caretaker. He takes on the problems of those he loves and tries to fix them. He didn’t take it out on others, but was not sleeping well and it consumed his thoughts.
He helps raise the grandson of his ex-wife – a seven-year-old who manifests issues born of drug use by his birth mother when she was pregnant. He is the only father this child has ever known, and there is an extreme attachment.
He goes to his ex-wife’s home every morning and wakes the child, dresses him, feeds him breakfast, and takes him to school. Many nights he goes over at night to put him to bed with a story. This child has few people truly committed to his well-being. To lose this only father he has ever known would be another trauma in this child’s young life.
He has another son, 18 with high-functioning autism. For a long time most acted as though there was no problem. Now the son understands he is neuro-divergent and is trying to figure out what that means to his life.
The son will graduate from high school next year and will need to be job-ready. He doesn’t have strong job skills. He’ll need to be taught and taught in a way he can grasp. He’ll also have to understand how autism makes him different and learn how to maneuver the world with that knowledge. He needs his dad.
There are other life dramas with his two daughters. He doesn’t want their mother to have to deal with it alone. Adult children prone to make mistakes are tough to deal with alone.
And then there is his mother. She is in the late stages of Alzheimer’s and as her child, he is a caregiver.
Work and money
Despite having worked two or more jobs consistently for years, he has little money. Mostly because of his kind heart. He’d give his last dollar to those who need it – and has. Whether they really deserve it or not.
Medical bills will be staggering for him, even with insurance. He was always healthy. He saved money and got a bare-bones insurance plan.
Missing work also bothers him. Not because of the money, but because he cares about what it will mean to those who depend on him.
For these and other reasons, I was quite angry when I was told of the woman’s comment. She was saying this about one of the kindest people I know. He would do almost anything for her and has often put himself out to do just that.
You own your reactions
If you are sick, always remember you are human. You get to feel what you feel.
Fear is common when you are diagnosed with an illness. In fact, it’s probably odd if you don’t feel some fear. Even if it’s simply fear of the things you may not be able to do with your life and the people who will be impacted.
I have a few friends who hate when people call them a hero for fighting a serious illness. I understand. What choice do they have? They do it because it means life. Their life.
But for many of us looking at the brutality they endure, they appear quite heroic.
Often they get this moniker because they are putting on a tough exterior to the world. Is that the best thing to encourage? Certainly it makes it easier for those around you, but is holding in anxiety and stress what you should do when you’re sick? I don’t think so. Sometimes the kettle has to boil.
I have inherited some of my father’s stoicism. Often I am able to turn off the feelings and go into pure logic mode. Usually, this has me planning for the worst-case scenario in a detached way. I don’t talk with others – I stay inside my head. At times I focus on something totally unrelated so I don’t think about it. My mind needs a break and like a robot, I turn the switch. The gift of ADHD – hyperfocus.
This works for me, but others have told me this can never work for them. Some talk it out – often and to everyone. They need support and encouragement and this gives it to them.
Others stew in their anxiety. They think about it all the time. They can’t sleep, and can’t get to a place where it isn’t the center of all their thoughts.
Then there are those who balance. There is some anxiety and some peace. They swing between the two.
If you look after your needs, you are doing it right
However you deal with it, it’s OK. Your job is to get through it in whatever way you can. There is no playbook for a serious illness or for consuming life problems. Feel your feelings. Put your needs first. Do it your way. Accept all the love and support you can. Feel every emotion and nuance life offers.
Avoid the plague
But people like this woman? People who think you’re not handling it correctly? Avoid them at all costs. They are an additional plague you don’t need to darken your days.
Working through it your own way you usually get to a point of acceptance or even peace.
People who are critical at this time of your life? You don’t need them around. They will bring you down and add stress and anger you don’t need. I believe stress fuels all illnesses.
Some good news
The next week some additional tests showed the initial prognosis was wrong. It’s still not a great situation, but death does not seem imminent.
The anxiety visibly lessened for this guy. What he wanted, what he needed, was the probability of more years. Time to help his people. Time to meet his commitments.
He’ll never know of that woman’s comment unless she says it to his face, or tells someone else who unkindly decides to share. Instead, those who care will surround him and fill his quiver with words of kindness and encouragement.
And that woman? Let her stew in her judgment.
Kim McKinney is not a fan of thoughtless people who try to kick others when they are down, even if it is passive-aggressive and behind their backs. She’ll defend you if she finds this happening, and will cheer you on whether you handle your illness or life issue as expected or not.