Second Opinion

When I worked in police Victim Services, I was told during training, "When you go out on a call, never ignore your gut instinct. Don't try to talk yourself out of it. If you get a weird, uncomfortable, or anxious feeling in a situation, make an excuse, and leave immediately. Pay attention to your feelings. These things don't happen for no reason; that instinct twisting your stomach into a knot is originating somewhere, you aren't imagining it, you're picking something up, whether or not you are able to articulate just what that something may be. Get out of there!"

Working with that wisdom, I finally stopped trying to talk myself out of the discomfort I was feeling about the first surgeon I saw regarding my cancer. I'd been trying to rationalise and dismiss my bad feelings for a few weeks before I remembered that training talk, and thought, "I'm getting this feeling for a reason." I called my GP and asked for a second opinion.

I went on Monday to see the new surgeon, and both Robert and I liked him immediately. He was calm, relaxed, had studied my file, (unlike the first surgeon, who couldn't even tell me if the cancer had metastasized without looking up my file on his computer, it didn't occur to him that I might care to have that information, strangely enough) made eye contact with me, answered every question I had (and I had many unanswered questions from my 3 meetings with the first surgeon) and didn't give me that same feeling of wanting to get me out of the office as quickly as possible, so as to go on to the next appointment. After the physical exam, he said that he believed the cancer to be of an earlier stage, (he's been in his specialty for many years, with an excellent reputation) and he didn't believe I needed either radiation, or the radical surgery I'd been told was necessary to save my life.

So I've been spared pre-operative radiation, and the surgery I'm facing on Dec 5th will be as minimal as possible, to achieve the desired results.

Talking with Robert afterwards, we agreed that this guy inspires confidence, and we're feeling much less frightened by the prospect of surgery.

I've slept better since then, as well.

When I realised that I was once again trying to talk myself out of my gut instinct, I said a quiet prayer of thanks for all the wisdom that has been so generously shared with me over the years, both in program and outside.

May you have a pleasing and serene day, I know I'm going to.

Taking Responsibility For Ourselves.

Before Al-Anon, I had confused ideas about personal responsibility; I was so accustomed to feeling like a victim, that I was wary of the prospect of taking full responsibility for my own choices and decisions. I wasn't sure I was willing, or able, to let go of blaming other people for the way my life went. I can still recall walking my dog and talking angrily to a Higher Power that I didn't think I believed in, asking resentfully, "What do you want from me?"

I thought that I had been given "a rough row to hoe" and saw no way whatsoever in which my own choices contributed to my misery. It was all being done to me, and I was helpless. When my first sponsor began to try to show me the ways in which I made my own life unhappy by my thought patterns and my choices, I was furiously resistant. Even then, I dimly understood that if I was doing it, I could stop doing it, and in that process, I was going to lose the alcoholic as scapegoat.

For many years, I blamed the abuse I'd suffered as a child, for my behavior and attitudes.  My sponsor patiently reiterated the idea that this may have been the starting point, but if I remain stuck at root causes, I cannot live a full and rewarding life.  Were I to refuse to move beyond that starting point because I didn't want to give up blaming, I am the only one to suffer the consequences.

I'd be the one forever telling the story of my victimhood, keeping myself freshly outraged, not allowing time to do its healing work, continually looking for reinforcement of that story.

"Nobody can keep me down without my consent." Oh how I hated that phrase, when I was still wrapped in the self-indulgent cocoon of reliving past sorrows and creating new problems for myself.
I had to be willing to let go of hearing other people murmur commiseration for how hard my life was. I wanted attention, and didn't know any other way of getting it than complaining about my lot in life. I didn't understand that long-lasting friendships are not based on complaint, and that expecting other people to endlessly listen and support me while I inflated my minor problems into mountains which left me immobile, was not going to get me the attention I desired.

I remember hearing the phrase "Give what you want to get." That means if I want good friends, I need to be a good friend first. Most people can only handle a small amount of listening to complaint before they begin to cringe when they see our number come up on call display, or stop answering completely. We need to comprehend that others are not bottomless wells for our use. Other members of Al-Anon are people, they are not a resource to feed an endless self-pitying lament.

If I'm having a rough day, I can stop, thank my HP for all of the many things for which I'm grateful, and look for something humorous with which I can describe my day to a program friend, so that we are both laughing, and I'm still getting what I need in terms of loving support.

Before making a call, I can ask myself, do I really need to lay this all out on another person, or can I seek comfort from my Higher Power, read some literature, change my attitude?

My attitude after 29 years in program has changed to such a great extent that even while dealing with cancer, I am able to laugh helplessly over life's, and my own, silliness.

I go for a second opinion today, I'll keep you posted.

What Do I Have To Offer?

In Al-Anon, a sponsor can be of invaluable help. For those of us who start out with firmly closed minds and determined ideas, a sponsor can, with a combination of direct speaking, humour and encouragement, create a safe enough environment that we can begin to step out from behind our social mask of "Oh, fine thank you!" to reveal the true feelings we carry. These may include rage, fear, frustration, loneliness, or despair that we will ever attain the serenity about which we hear so much.

When I was first asked to sponsor someone, I was terrified; I couldn't see what on earth she thought I had to give. I still often felt like I was barely managing to maintain my newfound serenity. When I asked her, a long time later, it turned out that she liked my ability to laugh. She felt as though she'd lost her sense of humour completely, and she wanted it back more than anything else she could imagine; she wanted to be able to howl with laughter. This member felt that she'd evolved into a dry and serious woman who could barely muster a fake chuckle, and she wanted to be able to laugh until her eyes were wet, and her stomach muscles hurt. She remembered laughing like that in childhood, and early adulthood, before her marriage to an alcoholic. The constant financial problems, other stresses, strains and heartbreak, had slowly eroded her ability to find humour in everyday life.

When I hear those who have a strong program declare that they don't sponsor, because they don't belive they've got anything to give to a sponsee, I will sometimes tell them this story. Perhaps they have the idea that they need to be deeply involved in Al-Anon, with many years of experience, and lofty things to share at meetings, before they will be of value as a sponsor. For me, it was my ability to see the humour in the small things we observe, the silly choices we can make, the ironies of our behavior, that were attractive to my first sponsee. She wanted to hang out with someone who laughed often, in the hopes that she'd be able to regain her sense of humour, and she did. We used to have long involved philosophical discussions punctuated by helpless laughing fits. She told me many times over the years that it was my ability to laugh at my own craziness which made it possible for her to loosen her iron grip on her self-control, and let go of her desire to be perfect.

So please, don't refuse to sponsor because you don't think you've got anything to offer - what you have in abundance, may be just what another member so desperately needs.

Perspective

Yesterday morning, back home from the surgeon's office, with the good news of the positive prognosis about my cancer in mind, I sat down at my computer and composed a few emails to friends and family. I was feeling quite emotional; I took off my glasses to wipe a few stray tears, and when I went to put them back on, one leg broke at the hinge, rendering them impossible to wear.

Now, I am legally blind without my glasses, which means I can't see the end of my nose clearly without them, have worn them since I was six years old, and they are rather like a security blanket for me. In the past when I've broken glasses, or lost a contact lens, I've felt anxious and unsettled until I could get a replacement.

But yesterday, I sat and looked at the two pieces, and thought, "My cancer hasn't metastasized, so what if my glasses have broken?" I went into the bathroom and put in my contact lenses, then went looking for the reading glasses I use when I'm wearing my contacts. I found them in my purse, took them out of their case to put on, opened the legs, and the same leg as on my glasses promptly fell apart.

I burst out laughing, and said aloud to myself and my Higher Power, "Oh who cares!" I went downstairs to my partner, and he offered his spare pair of reading glasses, which are the same strength as mine, and I could once again see clearly for reading.

We went out for Chinese food before my meeting, and my fortune cookie read: "All facets of your life are looking up."

I told this story at my meeting last night, and when I got to the part about my fortune cookie, the room exploded into laughter.

Perspective is a wonderful thing. There was a time in my life when having both my regular glasses and my reading glasses break on the same day would have caused me to feel annoyed, frustrated, and as if the world were conspiring against me. I took this sort of normal happening personally, and felt anger and intense frustration when life didn't go the way I believed it should. Al-Anon has helped me to learn that things may happen, but how I feel about the happenings is entirely and solely my choice.

I found this concept almost impossible to believe when new to program, I thought how I felt was just how I felt, it was a long hard haul uphill to grasp the reality that I didn't have to live my life with all those old, habitual attitudes choking my response to life, until all I could feel was anger and negativity.

In the old days, I would have thought, "Isn't that just the way it always goes, I've got cancer, and now I'm going to have to buy new glasses to the tune of $___!" And then when the reading glasses fell apart a few minutes later, I'd have thought "Why does this crap always happen to me? Why can't I ever get a break?"

Yesterday, I thought, "Oh so what, who cares!" I felt almost giddy with the wonderful realisation that my cancer hasn't metastasized, and in spite of having to have radiation and surgery, I am going to have more time with my wonderfully funny, intelligent, loving R, more time to share with my family and friends. Having a life-threatening illness concentrates the mind in an unusual way, and makes a person appreciate all the glories and marvels which surround us on a daily basis, have we only the vision and clarity to see them.

Bless you all for your words of support, I wish you a good belly-laugh today. The sun is just coming up this morning, and it's a beautiful day again.

Prognosis

Excellent news - I'm just home from the doctor's - the initial tumour appears to be the only one, no sign of metastasis, and it's an early stage tumour, so with luck, and some radiation to shrink it before surgery, I will get an operation in November for the removal, and life will continue with my wonderful, funny, adored partner, loving friends, and caring family.

It's an indication of my changed state of mind because of Al-Anon, that I can state with no hesitation today that life is good, cancer notwithstanding.

I'm feeling rather lightheaded with this good news, I wish for all of you a gleeful satisfying day!

Changed Attitudes Can Aid Recovery.

One thing I find most noticeable, as I go through this business of diagnosis, testing to stage the tumour, and then waiting for the results (I find out what's facing me this Thursday, the 10th of October, almost 2 months after having been diagnosed with cancer.) is that my essential daily mood has been, with a few exceptions, relatively unchanged.

I have had moments of fear and despair, I've had moments of a pure clean anger at the timing of all this - meeting the man who is the love of my life, and 3 months later being diagnosed with cancer -  but on the whole, I have been able to maintain my joy in living, and my delight in the friends and family who add so much to my life.

Nothing has changed there, I'm still waking up feeling gleeful at the start of a new day, and I can still spend time with friends having laughing fits over not very much. My attitude towards life has been irrevocably changed, so that in spite of what would have seemed tragedy to me, when I was new to Al-Anon, I can let go of that which is beyond my control (the cancer) let go of spending hours days or weeks obsessing about the fairness or unfairness of it all, let go of worrying stressing and fussing, and allow myself to be in the same peaceful state of serenity I felt,before having been diagnosed with a life-threatening illness.

I thank my Higher Power on an hourly basis for R, who is a delight and a treasure, with his warm,  supportive love, and who can make me howl with laughter, regardless of topic. I'm grateful for my sponsor, who is always there to listen, and to give my thinking a little tweak in the right direction when required. I'm grateful for my friends, who have spoken loudly of their love for me, and who make me feel like I'm wrapped in a wide-spread circle of caring.

Most of all, I'm grateful for Al-Anon, which has changed my attitudes to such an enormous extent. Had this happened before my time in program, I'd be in a very different headspace, - I'd be suffering, self-pitying, mournful, and defeated.

It's through dedicated effort to "work my program" that I've been able to face this life hurdle with my serenity largely intact, and my humour untouched. Bless you all for your support.

Waiting, or Living?

So much of my life was spent waiting, rather than living. As a child, I waited to be adopted, believing that when I was adopted, I would finally be happy, secure in a family of my own, loved, free of the fear and anxiety I felt being moved from pillar to post, one foster home after another. Back then, 50 years ago now, a child was moved from a foster home if it was felt that he or she was becoming too attached to the foster parent. This is an excellent way to create an adult incapable of commitment, for fear that the loved one will be snatched away, just as every person one dared to care for as a child was snatched away.

When finally adopted at the age of six, I realised very quickly that my new home was not going to be much of an improvement on the foster homes, because my adopted mother was a woman so full of rage and fear that she was unable to nurture or love a child. She used physical force to get her point across, and beat me regularly. I settled down to wait until I was sixteen, and could leave home.

 (It wasn't until I was an adult, sitting in the kitchen one day with my first husband's youngest daughter upon my lap, chatting to me about a movie she'd seen, and playing with my then waist-length hair, that it struck me how frail and delicate she was - her hands and wrists were tiny. I'd been told for many years that the beatings I suffered were my own fault, that I had caused them through my own choices. I took that information and internalised it, accepted it in some internal measuring place we all have. It wasn't until that day in my kitchen, that it struck me all at once - I had been about the size of the little girl in my arms,  and there was no way a child that age or size could have "deserved" the beatings that were administered to me. I just wasn't that "bad.")

When I left my adoptive home I quickly became involved with a raging alcoholic - my first husband. For ten years I hoped that he would change, and waited for things to improve, so I could be happy. It didn't happen, and I left that marriage no happier than I'd entered.

My second husband was a sober alcoholic, but not in recovery. His ego was the size of a mastodon, and I was miserable in that marriage, too. I had figured out very quickly, when he moved me to a town in which he'd lived before, where he felt comfortable and I knew no-one, that he didn't care how I felt, as long as he was content. I tried to work my Al-Anon program and accept my lot in life, but I had the feeling that there must be more to life, and to a relationship.

When I left that marriage a year and 3 months ago, I grieved for my little dog, whom I'd had for six years, but had to give back to the breeder. I knew I'd never be able to afford to look after her the way she deserved, since I was going to be living on a disability pension. I grieved for her, and for the death of my dear friend, who had died a few months prior to my leaving.

During that marriage, I had learned to find happiness in my friendships and my siblings, in gardening and art., but on some level, I was still waiting.

Alone, and once again living in the city I love and where I feel at home, I had begun to find a real happiness, and life was a wonderful adventure. I met Robert after almost a year, and we became first friends, and then as we realised how well matched we are, more than friends. I found myself eagerly anticipating the next time we got together, for the conversation was wide-ranging, our interests intersected in plants and gardening, and other areas of life, and we can make each other howl with laughter. I slowly, ever-so-slowly, allowed him access to the part of my character which had before then been closed away for over 50 years - my deepest feelings. I trust him completely, and it's an astounding feeling, this amazing trust. I had stopped waiting, because life had given me everything about which I'd dreamed.

We had 3 months of bliss uninterrupted, then I was diagnosed with cancer. I began once again to wait, but the waiting was of a very different kind this time around, because I have a partner who waits with me, for the tests to take place, and soon, for the results of the tests. I'll know on Oct 10th exactly what it is that I am facing, whether surgery is an option, or if the prognosis is grim. This time, I have only been waiting for short periods of time before I've pushed that thinking right out of my head, and gone back to dealing with the glorious delight of daily life in a relationship with a man I'm crazy in love with, who loves me. Somehow, even facing the most frightening possibility of my life, I am waking up full of joy and delight, turning to catch sight of my beloved's sleepy face on the pillow beside me, and greeting him with a bursting affection.

I'm waiting for the results of the tests, but I am also living in a way unknown to me before now, and this I wouldn't give up for a clean bill of health. I'll take it all, good and not-so-great, because all of it makes up my life, and life is good.