Over the past couple of months there has been a tendency for people to either avoid talking to me about their problems, or else they stop themselves in mid-whinge and apologise because my problems are clearly so much more serious than theirs.
I honestly don’t see it that way. And when people handle me with kid gloves it makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me. Well, I mean, other than the obvious (the cancer, not personal weirdness 
). It creates a barrier somehow. As if, just because I have a serious health problem, I have lost my ability to sympathise and, more importantly, empathise with others. Which is not the case at all.
It’s lonely enough at times, being here and dealing with the chemo and my fears and all that. So I just want to say that it feels good when people treat me like I’m still a ‘whole person’ because it makes me feel like I still belong and that I haven’t been separated and confined to some isolated place surrounded by eggshells.
I know this is done out of thoughtfulness and caring, but if you really do care about me then you’ll let me still care about you too … okay? If I’m ever feeling overwhelmed and unable to listen properly then I’ll let you know. Deal? 
casa azahar 
Guilty as charged 😳
Sorry. will try to do better.
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Well, I know you can’t POSSIBLY be referring to me, because I don’t hesitate to bring you my most ludicrous and mundane problems.
Case in point: I broke a nail this week. You sympathized over my broken nail. I was touched.
(okay, so it was my “first” broken nail ever… and it was sort of historic… and I was actually quite delighted to have a nail to break… and I have you to thank for even having fingernails right now.)
Anyways, I must admit that even as I tell you this there is a part of me that feels guilty knowing that my broken fingernail is not on the same level of personal suffering as the upcoming operation and all this chemo bullshit you have to go through,and therefore not worthy of mention. And I wish I could do more for you than just “sympathize” and “be there” through all this. I wish I could take some of your pain away for you, because it really sucks. I just want you to know that there is still a lot of life ahead of you, one where broken nails are the daily news, not tubes and doctors and medications.
We’ll get through this, okay? And you can trust me on this: I’m a gal with great fingernails.
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Gaaaaa! Teuchter, I’m not trying to make people feel guilty or bad (so please knock that off right now, okay? *hug*) … I wanted to help people feel freer about talking to me like I’m still me and not some weirdo cancer victim person that they are afraid to be around.
I’m really okay most of the time. The worst times aren’t when I feel physically sick and weak. They are when I feel afraid and alone.
So I wasn’t criticising anyone in particular by writing this post. I was trying to make it easier for people to feel more comfortable around me.
How am I doing so far? 😕
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Pipocas, it seems we were simulposting just now.
And no I wasn’t referring to you, because you have been a constant breath of fresh air throughout all of this, especially because you never hesitate to bring me your ‘most ludicrous and mundane problems’ … as well as your more serious ones.
And you are never afraid when I tell you about my fears.
I can’t imagine how you could possibly do any more for me, sis. So never worry on that account.
Wasn’t today’s lunch fabulous? And I loved the fingernail talk – Sara also got in on it. It was great seeing my best friends in Sevilla (you & Nog) and my best friends from London (Sara & Steve) hitting it off and have a great time together.
I’m still smiling. 🙂
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Az, I have had this big spot in the middle of my right butt cheek… well its huge actually… should I apply a topical treatment or lance it?
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I don’t know about anyone else… My life is a complete bowl of cherries and I just have nothing to complain about (lies through teeth).
I am reminded of the Simpson’s episode where Homer and Marge go for the “Marriage Weekend” (Homer agrees to go because he thinks he can go fishing all weekend). The participants are asked to list the thing that bug them about their spouses….
Marge says that she doesn’t have any complaints but after pushing her a bit, she starts off and starts her rather extensive list of complaints. The evening progresses and she is still listing…. Fibally, much to everyone’s relief, she winds to an end but then says… “Oh. and he scratches his butt with his keys….”
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Fibally…. Yeesh
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Geez. I can’t imagine having fingernails long enough to break. It really bugs me that I can’t get a manicure because my massage therapist (surgeon’s length) nails look ludicrous with polish on them. Plus every time I have polish on my nails I can hear them screaming to breathe once again. This short nail thing all my life has always been a source of distress to me. It started when I was a violinist and I went straight from musician to massage therapist with no nails in between. But they still split and break even though short. And they have ugly ridges.
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OK, can I complain about the fruit flies in my kitchen? That I don’t want to use bug spray on because it’s the kitchen? OK, enough of that.
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Mine, too…
They fall apart when I am doing anything with my hands,,,, and they fall apart when I’m not.
I just noticed that I have developed a big airpocket under the nail of my right middle finger.
I know that this is all probably related to the fact that I don’t eat the right foods and whatnot.
Years ago when I first worked in the boolkstores, we got a book in which was an illustrated guide to vitamin deficiencies and nail problems. I should have bought it. The only one I can remember was that when you have white blotches on your nails, you are low in zinc.
Since topping up on zinc, I no longer get the blotches but with all the ridges, hairline cracks, and flaking my nails remain the worthy of being called the poster children of vitamin deficiency.
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Long finger nails? *yuk* Good warm and nutricious place for yukky thingies…
Apart from some rare attempt as teenager I’ve always kept my nail cut short. It’s awfully impractical to have long finger nails since you literally can’t touch anything properly. Nail polish I try occasionally, it might last a whole day if I’m lucky.
My hands are made for working, and that’s the way I want it.
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cheers.
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Hey, wait, do I detect a theme here with “taking off the kid gloves”, all this talk about fingernails, and the recent vampire-like punctures on your wrist?
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I think you should pull the other one, beaverboosh – it’s got bells on! 🙂
Hey, I quite like ‘fibally’, Anneke.
Yes, you can complain about fruit flies, Silverstar, but you can’t complain about only having vowels and then scoring 35 points in scrabble like someone else we know.
The big deal about the fingernails is that Sara, Pipocas and I are all nailbiters, though they are somewhat more hardcore than I am. Mine were in a rather sorry state but during all the emergency stuff in May, having tubes down my throat, etc, I came home from hospital with longish nails for the first time in ages. Which impressed Pipocas so much that we got into a nail growing competition. When Sara arrived it turned out she had recently started growing hers, so we were all doing a nail check at lunch yesterday.
The only problem with long nails is that it’s hell typing on the laptop keyboard with them (I usually plug in a normal keyboard except when I’m in bed waiting to be served coffee, like now).
“my nails remain the worthy of being called the poster children of vitamin deficiency”
Yeah, apparently you can tell quite a lot about a person’s health by looking at their fingernails. For me nailbiting (and weight gain) has always been a warning that I am feeling overwhelmed and not in control of my life, so it’s curious that I have long nails now and am keeping off the 12 kilos I’ve lost.
A theme, Pipocas? Pray tell.
*waves to mister anchovy* Just been listening to Hank Snow over at your place.
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it’s a deal!
Now I just need to find something to complain about…
Oh, and don’t grow your nails too long as they’ll get in the way of you typing on the new iPhone you’re going to get when all the icky stuff is over! 😉
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Best way to nurture your nails?
Always, always, always wear gloves when you’re cleaning/washing-up/etc.
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Cleaning? Washing up??? Okay, I’ll let Nog know. 🙂
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I have given up on the cleaning/washing up thing since my hands are constantly covered in dirt, bug guts (from my personal execution of things like cabbage looper worms and the like) and have to be scrubbed clean before I give massage. Perhaps this accounts for the flaking and chipping. It certainly accounts for the dirt under the nails. sometimes it just doesn’t scrub out very well, especially when the skin has become stained by the red clay we have around here.
So, if I can complain about something else, it is the fact that Jim and I share the computer and he reads everything I write in my blog and so I can’t bitch about him when he bugs me. The only place I can do that is with my girlfriend, and she has so much more to complain about in her husband that I hardly ever get a chance. Besides, I feel icky if I complain about Jim since he has so many truly excellent qualities.
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I am also feeling guilty – and not because of this post. I know have withdrawn because I am scared of saying the wrong thing.
I’ll try harder to be chattier but I’m no good with nails!
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You can bitch about him on the scrabble message thingy, hmh, or does Jim read those too?
“I am scared of saying the wrong thing”
True, I might end up throwing tomatoes at you. 😉
I wonder about those who have ‘gone missing’ since I started blogging about the cancer. Is it really that scary even second hand?
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It really is that scary! And there is that touch of sympathetic magic in a lot of us. If we associate with it, we could catch it. Ridiculous but it is an instinctive thing.
But it won’t stop me from throwing tomatoes back atcha if you throw them first!
Of course, a messy cream cake in the face is good fun as well!
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Az, I don’t know if many have ‘gone missing’ — I think perhaps that the people who used to stop by and comment on frivolously on fun stuff (me included!) are now lurking. It is hard to “know what to say” — until, like what you’ve done in this post, the person going through the shit-worse-than-yours gives you permission to get beyond it.
Cheers.
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Wow, Archie, that is truly weird! But thanks for telling me. It would never have occurred to me that anyone might think they could actually ‘catch cancer’ by associating with me.
Lori, there is still plenty of ‘fun stuff’ on my blog. I actually go out of my way to maintain the usual casa az type of stuff here.
As for “what to say” … hey guys, I’m not dead yet! Why not just treat me the same as always? And if the cancer-related posts upset you then just ignore those ones. But please don’t ignore me entirely! Pretty please?
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I’ve got gas, which might be your problem as well when I visit.
😛
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People tend to avoid others that “are not like us”.
Mum told me that when Dad died, a lot of people stopped seeing her. I experienced something similar when I divorced. The fact that I half a year before my divorce was diagnosed with an odd neurlogic condition did definitely not increase my social ranking.
For the time being I’ve got several people around me in various stages of cancer. Some wants to keep in touch, others have withdrawn and only accepts messages etc. via family members.
Somehow, I guess it all is about treating people the way you want to be treated yourself.
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Oh zoomer … you always know just what to say! 🙂
I’ve heard of that sort of thing before, dq, but this is the first time I’ve experienced it personally. It really sucks.
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Hmmm, haven’t been “avoiding” you, so much as getting tied up in knots over my own problems, and not wanting to bring you down with them (okay, if I put it like that, guilty as charged, then).
MY usual these days is, still trying to find work, while trying not to run afoul of the welfare folks for working a *tiny* bit sometimes, which might inspire them to cut me off with no bennies for three months, and being told that I “have to” finish fighting for the twice-denied Social Security disability. This is another reason to hope I don’t get any work, even though I *need* to (for no other reason than that I feel like rubbish when I don’t do anything productive!).
But, it could be worse, I could have a set of cat bites… 😉
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