CVS/pharmacy® for all the ways you care
Pharmacy
Shop
Photo
ExtraCare
Health Information
Health
Resources Home
Medical Info
Medical Library
Health Info A-Z
Ills & Conditions
Self-Care Centers
Healthy Living
Fitness & Nutrition
Weight Control
Lifestyle & Wellness
Emotional Health
Alternative Health
Work & Health
Dental Health
Personal Health
Men’s Health
Women’s Health
Pregnancy
Children’s Health
Health After 60
Cool Tools
Multimedia
Calculators
Quizzes
View All Tools
WEB SITE PRIVACY
POLICY
First Person Essays



Liz's Blog: As the Tumor Turns


Page 4: You're All Invited


By Elizabeth Churchill
CONSUMER HEALTH INTERACTIVE

Sunday November 26, 2006

This happens a lot: Friends and relatives will be talking to me, and will mention in passing some personal problem or worry or obstacle that has recently popped up in their lives. And then suddenly, they cut themselves short and quickly apologize. "Oh I'm sorry. I shouldn't even bring this up," they say, looking chagrined. "I mean, I know it's nothing compared to cancer."

I'm not sure they believe me when I try to tell them how wrong they are. It's not nothing, no matter how trivial, not to me anyway. I haven't relocated to some alien universe where only people with cancer have a right to complain, or feel discouraged, or depressed, or whatever.

Will anyone ever believe me if I tell them that the cancer is often the least of my worries? It's serious and all, sure, and the process of dealing with it continues to drain me. But most of the time I feel like the cancer is just annoying background noise, like living next to a freeway or an airport. Or maybe both at the same time. You hate it, yeah, but you get used to it. And it certainly doesn't drown out the rest of your life's woes.

In all honesty, I feel more debilitating anxiety over my financial disaster; deeper heartache over my foundering relationship; greater terror over the state of the world. A few weeks ago I nearly died, and it was a frickin' migraine that brought me to my knees. Not the stage IV cancer or its barbaric chemotherapy. A weasely little migraine.

Maybe only people who've experienced both cancer and severe migraines can really appreciate the irony.

But please: dear friends, dear relatives, dear total strangers on the internet, don't be intimidated by this hideous cancer beast. Continue to feel free to grouse at length around me about your own personal issues and challenges! I am so tired of being the only person in the room who isn't a frickin' trooper. I feel isolated enough as it is. Please, somebody join me.

Page 5: How to Be A Support Ho: Our heroine dodges lethal germ exposure by entering a surreal support group.

To return to the beginning of Liz's blog, click here.




Reviewed by Michael Potter, MD, an attending physician and associate clinical professor at the University of California, San Francisco. He is board certified in family practice.


Our reviewers are members of Consumer Health Interactive's medical advisory board.
To learn more about our writers and editors, click here.

Last updated July 15, 2009
Copyright © 2007 Consumer Health Interactive


Back to top of page