My Dad’s church would host a week of summer camp. They offered a morning session and an afternoon session…of course I went to both. But it was fun! I did various activities like cooking, building and racing go-karts (where I was the only girl), tennis, and baseball. Costume design/sewing or girl-focused activities held zero interest for me (well, other than cooking. I like to eat!) Each year, the shirt was the same but the color was different. It simply said: Christian Workshop in stacked words. To this day, I have a royal blue Christian Workshop shirt. Pretty sure it was my Dad’s and that has me feeling a little unsure about myself that as an adult female, I fit into my adult Dad’s shirt at about the same age. When I was 6 or 7, my favorite outfit was my red Christian Workshop shirt and my red shorts with the big pockets. I remember dressing myself in the yellow room aka, my room until my younger sister needed a room. There I was with my pigtails and monochromatic red. I loved having big pockets to put all my treasures into. I never knew when I would find a shiny rock (read, white landscaping rock) and need to put it in my “collection.” Or if a really cool pinecone or acorn needed to be memorialized in my shrine of shit. Being prepared to carry my gems was what I was. There were many times I would come home to empty my pockets. It was too hard to play sports when your pockets held 5 pounds of various things. I would go out of my way to return home, unburden my pockets, avoid my Mom and run back outside. I loved my red on red look. It was functional and red looks good on me (that was a much later discovery). Looking back, the freedom to roam and find such treasures was probably the greatest gift I had as a kid.

It’s interesting to think about the things we carry as adults. I have been ruminating a lot about this concept. The unspoken burdens. The emotional and mental load. Cancer guilt is a strange thing. For me, it has come in multiple forms. Yes, I have cancer and yes, my body has responded well to treatments and surgery. And then you hear of a little kid who died from cancer. I have survivors guilt. Or my high school basketball teammate who died from a similar cancer as me. Guilt. At the same time, I am thankful I am progressing so well for the sake of my own kids and Chris (and me). The irony. The mental load of having cancer has been trickier to manage. Probably because I am feeling better and therefore should automatically be back to operating like I used to: on top of kids activities, school functions, figuring out what’s for dinner, grocery shopping, exercising more intensely, financially contributing, laundry, house cleaning, planning family events, what’s for dinner? (Side note: why is that THE. Worst. Question. Ever?) The mental load can be heavy to carry. Add to this my inability to remember my to-do list unless written down. (And yes, I love a checklist). My forgetfulness is a new struggle from this journey. Or maybe it’s the menopause. But I was thrown into that because of radiation. Even though I am getting back to feeling better, I still need to rest. And I feel guilty. Then, the financial guilt from having cancer. I am working hard to understand why I have this deep gulf of guilt particularly with finances. Maybe it is my white-knuckle grip on the concept if you do the right things, it will add up to good things like success and financial stability. However, that is not the case. But this belief is so ingrained into my being, that I get stuck believing if I didn’t have cancer, we would be in a better financial position or in a bigger house or I wouldn’t be an emotional rollercoaster (sorry, Chris). I know my life is worth more than money. I know that. And reality is we are here now and I’m about to have another intense surgery. So how do I calm my mind and get to the root of my feelings of guilt? How do I not secretly believe in the ideology doing the “right” things beget financial success? It’s a work in progress. Aren’t we all? But these are some of the things I carry. It won’t always be like this, though. Of that I am confident because I am going to choose to lean in and work through my emotional load. The most Liz-thing ever. 

I’ve been sitting on this blog for a while. I’ve written it many different times, deleting and adding. I’m just sharing my own thoughts and experiences with cancer. It’s personalized to me. But I wanted to clarify that I/ we have been so blessed by our friends and family. My struggles with guilt are my own and not dependent on what others have or have not done for me and my family. So if you are still reading this, thank you. I continue to be grateful for all the support and encouragement.

Liz