On Sunday, I burst into tears during a completely normal, albeit cancer-focused, conversation with my son. Unfortunately, we were in the middle of a restaurant at the time. I literally ran into the restroom and hid in a stall until I was calm. Then, after I splashed water on my face, I realized there were no paper towels. Yes, lady in pink who was staring at me, I WAS trying to dry my face with the hand dryer!  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We’ve been talking about The Death of Ivan Ilyich, an uplifting (sarcasm!) little Russian novella that tells the story of a sick man who, as his illness progresses, becomes more and more isolated from family, friends, community. It never really resonated with me but now that we are in the midst of our own health event, we are both connecting with the protagonist.  You shouldn’t be put off by my description, either. Tolstoy’s book is wonderful; it’s just that it’s also Russian literature. If you are hoping for … well, HOPE, you might want to pick a different book. Maybe, re-read A Christmas Carol.

The thing about serious illness is that it removes passion for every day life: many things become irrelevant (bickering with the neighbor who shovels snow onto our part of the sidewalk, walks with the very eager 2-year-old pitbull). Some of that is good; the neighbor is 35 years older than I am. Since I’d willingly shovel his sidewalk anyway, it really IS irrelevant if he practices poor shoveling habits. Other things are more difficult: we want Ken to spend time with the kids but he tires easily. A friend suggested video games and that’s been remarkably successful. Our youngest is also reading to Ken, which is good for both of them. It takes more concentration though and sometimes that’s in short supply (thank you, chemo brain!). Walks with the eager, though very well-behaved, pitbull take more energy than is currently available.

The most difficult is the emotional aspect. This was a “low-coping” week for both of us. My resilience bucket was mostly on empty (see the children’s book, How Full Is Your Bucket? if you aren’t familiar with the concept). We know how to be sad together (happy together is EASY) but usually, my bucket refills quickly which helps me to lift Ken’s spirits when he hits a rough patch. This week, though, my bucket has mostly been empty, which is why I found myself crying in the bathroom at Eat’n Park!