You know how sometimes life just converges on you in such a way that you have to face something uncomfortable that you would rather just avoid?  Yep, me too.  I have been struggling with chronic pain for the past few months.  My right forearm started with painful, hard lumps under the skin.  Initially, I thought it was infected lymph nodes.  After numerous scans to rule out deep vein thrombosis and more cancer, I was diagnosed four weeks ago with fibrosis in my arm.  Having lymph nodes removed during my cancer surgery meant the remaining nodes were overworked and could not transport waste materials and toxins out of my body.  Well, apparently, my lymph nodes decided to go on full-out strike and the icky stuff collected in hard bumps under my skin.  I’ve been undergoing occupational therapy to manually clear the waste materials out of the lymph nodes.  I will continue to do lymphatic self-massage on my arm for the rest of my life.  It is a good time. (Insert sarcastic voice please)

At the same time, I was diagnosed with arthritis in my neck, likely caused by my motorcycle crash ten years ago.  But the pain has continued to intensify as the weeks have gone on and my wife has lobbied under her breath for me to check in with my oncologist.  This may be due to the whining about pain that has become the background noise in our home.  The oncologist responded that a bone scan was indicated.  My response was to literally write back and say, “Are you sure?”

Here is where things get funky.  As this process is unfolding, I am working in my own psychotherapy on my feelings about being a heart patient as a young toddler.  Facing the emotional imprint that I am a disappointment to my parents slides right into the grooves of the physical pain I am experiencing in the present. Cue the soap opera soundtrack. That’s right.  I’m feeling as though I am a disappointment today.  A problematic, demanding patient.  My oncologist responds to my query with “any time you have bone related pain for more than two weeks you need a bone scan” with his initials.  Boom. I stare at the email for a few moments.  The pain has been for months and now I feel a different kind of difficult.  I am irresponsible and negligent and numerous other pejorative terms running through my mind.  

I have put myself in this emotional stranglehold many times on my journey with cancer.  Wanting to be the good little Julie and feeling as though I have fallen short.  Not because I have.  But because that is how I experience myself.  Some might want to be angry with my parents.  I, on the other hand, feel nothing but deep compassion for them.  A brand-new infant and the news that their precocious middle child’s life expectancy just dwindled down to a few years.  Trips to Mayo clinic.  Experimental procedures.  And all of their own emotional stuff added to the mix.  My heart feels heavy for them, and for me.

So, what is the takeaway from this emotional quagmire?  It’s this: We all do the best we can.  We all feel as though we fall short.  We all keep trying.  It is the way of life.  It does not say anything about us.  Except that we are human, taking our own path on this earth, one step in front of the other.