Amends

I have reached a point in my recovery, where I rarely become angry. When I do, I am able to count to ten, remain silent, or speak without heat.

Since this last operation, I find myself more short-tempered with all the appointments, visits, chemo treatments, dressing changes for my PICC line (a catheter inserted in my upper right arm and left in for the entire duration of the chemo, six months) trips to get bloodwork, and waiting waiting waiting to be able to do all of the above.

On Tuesday I had to go see a chemo oncologist for my regular bi-weekly checkup, to make sure I was healthy enough for the next treatment. I was sent from pillar to post to try to get the dressing change, because I kept being told by ward and clinic clerks "Oh, we don't do those here, go there, and they'll do it for you." I went back and forth several times before suggesting that one clinic clerk come with me to tell the other, that someone over there was supposed to do my dressing change. I then waited for another hour and a half, so by the time I was called, I was feeling quite annoyed. I'd forgotten to bring a book to read, so was reduced to either Economist magazine, or home decorating.

When I did get in to see the doctor, I was short with her, and said that I didn't appreciate being kept waiting for an hour and a half. She gave me several reasons, and we talked about it a bit, but I was annoyed, and stayed annoyed throughout the 10-minute visit.

At home that night, I felt that I owed this doctor an amend. So, knowing that the chances of me being able to catch her long enough to make an amend face-to-face were slim to none, I wrote her a two page apology.

This morning she called me at home to thank me for my apology, and we talked for a bit. I'd explained what is going on for me, how I'm struggling with the limitations imposed upon me by the second surgery, and waver between acceptance and anger. She revealed that her daughter had undergone the exact surgery, and asked if she could refer me to another specialty doctor who might be able to help. I agreed, apologised again, and we parted on good terms.

I felt the enormous relief that comes to me after I've made an amend that I know I need to make, and I also found my eyes welling up with tears. Had I not been willing to make the amend, we would most likely not have ever spoken about the limitations, we'd just have discussed the cancer. God puts these people into our path, and it's our choice to either turn away, or turn towards them.

Stop Poking At Me, Already!

One foundation of the Al-Anon program, which seemed impossible when I started, yet over time, has become a deeply ingrained habit, is making amends.

I've come to believe that the Steps are written as they are, in an effort to overcome the ferocious desire to justify ourselves, present in so many of us. I know I can always find a knee-jerk reaction as to why I was perfectly in the right to say/think/do whatever it was. That kind of thinking keeps me separate from others. It creates distance, and walls of rigidity.

Getting over the first monstrous hurdle of "Made direct amends to all persons we had harmed, except when to do so would injure them or others." allowed me to realise that it wasn't so bad to admit I was in the wrong; on the contrary, it was hugely freeing. I woke up the day after each early amend, and realised  - that was one less stinking, putrid hunk of ancient guilt to lug around.

I carried so much guilt with me; it stabbed and slashed at me in quiet moments: kept me from sleep: poisoned my self-image. Even so, when first offered the chance to relieve it through the making of amends, I was doubtful. And terrified. What if someone rejected an amend? My sponsor worked me through the process of "Well, what's the absolute worst that could happen?" each step of the way, until I came to the realisation that even if that was the outcome in one or more cases, I'd survive.

Making amends clears the slate upon which we write our relationships with others. It's a powerful statement of shared humanity. I've made amends I didn't want to make, to people I didn't much like, and achieved the  same result as with the amends I was willing to make, to those I love. It's the process that matters. The humility.

I was joking to a friend recently, that now instead of being poked and prodded by guilt, it's my conscience sticking a finger into my side and saying, "Um, excuse me, can we talk?"  I've had times where I've tried to pretend I didn't hear it, but that just increases the force of the fingerpokes, until my ribs hurt and I'm completely exasperated, and whirl around to say, "All right! I hear you! I'll make the cursed amend!"

I'm not going to pretend I'm always melting with the force of my willingness, right from the start. I have times when I feel like a recalcitrant child, being pushed forward by my conscience, with mulish expression upon my face. Somehow, someway, most likely through the grace of my Higher Power, when I reach the point of speaking my amend, I will find that I am willing. I may say whatever I have to say stiffly, and with much mumbling and fumbling, but I will say it, and for that, I am truly grateful.

Step Nine.

"Made directs amends to such people whenever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others."

When I was doing this Step for the first time, my ego was telling me that almost everyone on my list was covered by the second part of the Step, so I didn't need to make amends to that person, or that person, or that person, or...anyone much, really!

I was very entertaining for my first sponsor. She was British, and didn't mince words. When I was finished my little recital, she looked me directly in the eye, smiled sweetly, and replied:
"Bollocks!"

Considerably chagrined, I started again at the top of my list, and we picked out those I felt I could make an amend to immediately. That was followed by those I was afraid might reject my amend, so for those people, I needed to prepare myself - pray, and work to let go of the outcome.

That left a few (a small few) with whom I'd lost touch through one of us moving, or had been estranged from for so many years that the idea of contacting them filled me with dread.

The latter I set aside, and began making my amends. I was amazed at how many were accepted either with astonished laughter - I'd been worrying for years over that? Or a gracious thankyou for my having the courage to make the amend - that response invariably made tears spring to my eyes.

I always made it very clear at the start of the amend that I was not doing this in an effort to resurrect the relationship if the other person was not so inclined. I'd made my peace with that possibility, and in some cases, that's how it went. Others were willing to be friends again.

One met my amend with anger as fresh as the day I'd wronged them. That was excruciating, since I felt it necessary to sit and listen, without defending or rationalising or justifying. My amend was summarily rejected. I had to accept that I'd made my amend in good faith, and I needed to let go of the outcome; that's always in God's hands, not mine.

A few amends, I made with my sponsor standing in for the person I had wronged.

My amends to myself, I made sitting quietly at my kitchen table, during a time when I was home alone.

When I finished doing Step Nine, I was emotionally exhausted, and at the same time, strangely exhilarated - my guilt was gone. (I promptly began manufacturing some more, since I have that type of personality, and that's why I'm still in Al-Anon.)