Normalization. Or Lack Thereof.

** Originally posted on 14 December 2022 **

I had a bit of a profound thinking moment earlier this week. It happened in conjunction with another moment in which I realized I hadn’t fully thought through a situation and, as a result, I had to last minute scramble to find an alternate way to approach what I needed to do.

I thought about how this likely wouldn’t have been the case 18 months ago. I’ve generally been really good at figuring out every little piece of the puzzle when it comes to a project or a complex task or even just a simple purchase (as was the case here).

Often times cancer patients, or anyone going through a traumatic and sudden life event really, will reminisce about “normal times,” or as I like to refer to them, the before times aka Before Cancer (BC). Remembering all the things that have been lost or have shifted. Anxiously awaiting the day when some of those qualities or things will return. Even wondering if they ever will.

It is difficult for me to fully express what it is like to lose part of yourself. And I’m not just talking about the obvious hair loss, or when I had more fucks to give than I do (although those do weigh on me a bit too). I know that eventually my hair will come back, and while it might not be the same, it’ll still be glorious. And my endurance and energy will gradually recover as my body recovers.

But I find myself taking longer to process things than I used to, and not thinking of all the questions I need to ask, or things I need to do, at once. The brain fog is definitely real. This causes me to spiral and panic a little bit more than I’m used to, when the forgetfulness comes to haunt me down the road.

The truth is, I don’t know how long this will last. Will I recover fully? Partially? Not at all? Is this my “new normal?” If so, I’ll have to learn how to be at peace with that, and find new tools to work with these constraints. I don’t want to sit and wait for it to get better. Because sometimes this does not go away.

And that is where I sit today: using post it notes way more than I used to (which I never thought was possible), and sometimes sending three emails instead of one. Learning to use drafts a lot lately in order to avoid multiple emails or messages. And taking a time out when not remembering something or being able to figure something out that I normally would causes me to start to spiral. If you’ve been the recipient of multiple emails or been on the receiving end of a panic spiral, I am working on it, and I appreciate the patience you’ve given me.

If you’re going through this same thing, try to live with where you are now; I know how difficult it can be. Rely on the closest people in your circle — open up to them and ask them to have patience and offer gentle reminders.

And if you are a caregiver or someone close to another that is having difficulty adjusting to what might be their new normal, please be patient. Offer support and love. They could likely be just as frustrated or annoyed as you are about this new reality. See them and where they are at.

So, chemo brain, I see you. I’m here. I don’t really like you, and you’re not great company, but I don’t want to fight either. So let’s learn to live together. ❤

Tonia

Self-loving. Healthy living. Less stressing.

http://imperfectaf.com
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