Thursday, November 14, 2013

I am not the brave person you're looking for

I have strange mixed feelings about the Pink Glove Dance contest.  Most of the videos get me all choked up (ok, I'm a sucker for high school bands, children, sports teams, happy crowds, and I cry at movies, songs, books, commercials, St Jude mailings, graduations, people talking about graduations....you get the picture), but at the same time I see the videos and I can't for the life of me figure out what the goal is with respect to ending cancer.

I may post more about that at some point, but the thing that brought it to mind today is number of videos that chose (from the set choices) Sara Barellies' "Brave" as their music.  Bravery in the face of cancer is so common it's moved well into the area of total cliché.  

For me, the thing is, I'm just not that brave.

If I had the choice, I would not have chosen this fight.  Not unless there was some super life and death reason hanging over my head.  And even then I would most likely fight like hell if there was a way to get out of it (Trust me.  I tried.  There wasn't).

I went through surgery because it was a life or death choice.  Same with chemo.  Same with radiation therapy.  Same with tamoxifen.

I just didn't really have any better choices.

And if I seemed stoic, it was mostly because I didn't want to frighten my family.  And if I seemed positive, it was mostly because I hate to be the most depressing person in the room.  

Sometimes, I guess, "resigned to my treatment" and "brave" can look a lot alike.  Apparently "compliant" can, too. 

I got a lot of comforting words about how brave I was, and while I dearly appreciate the love and kind wishes (really, they were incredibly helpful during a difficult time), the "brave" makes me feel like an impostor.  Now that I'm through with it, people tell me how proud they are and how amazing I am to have made it through this--do I love the image of myself as this totally awesome butt kicker?  Well, of course I do!  But my doctors, nurses, and technologists are amazing.  I pretty much just did what I was told.

Lately, I've been wondering if all this full-on "brave" doesn't make it harder for people in the hard parts of this cancer journey than it should be (it's inherently pretty hard as it is, after all).  There are, unfortunately, always new faces on the cancer forum I like to read, and the common theme is fear.  Fear of dying, fear of suffering, fear of losing the parts of life they care about.  "I'm devastated."  "I don't know if I can do this."  "I'm really worried."  "I'm so scared."  And, like most survivors, I know too well what they mean.

The brave stuff is kind of like that video of the doctor dancing before her double mastectomy that was all over the news a week or so ago.  For the woman herself, hey, if that's what she wanted I'm glad she got it.  But from an all-over-the-news-and-internet standpoint, it sets a pretty lousy precedent.

Most women who find out they have cancer are frightened, not instantly transformed into an army of pink-clad Boudicas jumping up ready to slay this cancer beast.  Most women about to undergo a mastectomy don't feel like dancing, and don't want to dance (ask me how I know).  Not that you can't be that if you want to (although, frankly, pink-clad Boudicas may not translate so well into real life), but, goodness knows, no one should expect that of you and you absolutely don't need to expect that of yourself.  Most women going through testing, surgery, chemo and radiation are just trying to keep going until it's over.   And, know what?  Feeling frightened, anxious, and like you're just barely hanging by a thread and barely getting through is perfectly alright.  And I think the vast majority of "brave" survivors you see felt exactly the same way.

There was one Pink Glove Dance video that kind of spoke to me.  In between the usual waving gloves and happy sashed dancers, there were messages from women who survived and acknowledgement that not everyone does survive (something that's missing in a lot of the super-survivor pink parties).  And the messages were individual responses to "Brave is..."   The one I liked?  "Brave is Surviving."  Maybe if we're going to call people like me brave, it's a good idea to define the terms.   And to me, "Brave is Surviving" is a good addition to the definition.  Not the only thing that counts as brave, but a good thing to have be part of it.

If you have cancer, you don't have to embrace the cancer experience or be empowered by it, and I like to think that brave could also include just getting through one day at a time because you don't really have a better choice.  Because most days, that's really what it's like, but one day at a time will get you through a lot of tough days.  

I'm still not sure I can identify with "brave" but "surviving" works for me.

Plus, the other thing that video had was high school teams and children laughing--and who doesn't like that?  

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