To tell or not to tell...that is the question

I know I'm not sticking to my decision to wait until after the holiday to write again. And so, here I am finding I want to share some of what has been going through my mind...before I forget.

The question that keeps me at a loss right now is whether or not to tell others I am recovering/and trying to heal from cancer. I have to add that my chronic stuff is thrown in there, too. I'm not talking about telling friends. I'm talking about telling the people I meet in my life that I may or may not ever see in person again. I've been debating this for years due to the CRPS, but have more of a push on both sides of the question now that the big C has decided to entrench itself (maybe).

I'm still recovering from surgery. I know this. I know that my nerves are coming down from the numbness that kept my body going. I'm not sure the ones in the know shouldn't have said that now the real fun and healing begins. I'm not really good at going at a slow healing pace. I have things to do, people to see, and adventures to have.

I've opted not to have reconstruction. The things one doesn't realize will happen when you have only one breast: all my clothes slide to the right, as do my scarves, and my necklaces. So after about an hour, I'm having to readjust everything. The imbalance isn't a huge deal, but it is one I feel more now (due to the nerves re-awakening), to say nothing of the awkwardness of doing all the adjustments in public. This is mainly awkwardness of my own. Most people don't even notice that I'm one tata short. Most don't pay attention to whether my necklace is centered or not. Most don't notice that I'm fidgeting with my clothes or the shoulder strap of my bag.

I'm ok with dealing with my own emotional pulls. I know what is mine to deal with and what belongs to others, for the most part. But with the tell/don't tell issue, I'm uncertain. I'm actually ok if people notice my adjustments and all. What makes it awkward to me is that nothing is talked about. Does that make sense? It's like being next to someone who sneezes, and not saying 'bless you' or 'salud' or 'that's funny' or 'you exploded'. As an aside, the last two are what I usually say - one because Penn and Teller make me smile and the last is what my Grams used to say.

There is more at play here, too. My chronic illness isn't something visible and obvious. Cancer isn't usually visible or obvious. I go to a lot of trouble to not have anyone witness me in pain. The look people have when they watch a person in pain, or struggling, is challenging for me. Pity, a desire to help but an inability to figure out how, or disbelief that something 'simple' can hurt are big triggers for me. I have tried to assume positive intent those times I have been on the receiving side of those looks. But, truthfully, I end up smiling and trying to put people at ease, which adds to the crazy that is going on in my own head. When the disability isn't a visual thing, that's when the awkward hits.  How does one explain why they have been able to go and go for awhile and then suddenly they can't and just stop? Who hasn't experienced walking behind a person when they suddenly stop and you ended up trying to avoid a collision? Yeah. That. I have the desire to do many more things than my body will allow me to do. And I regularly push my physical limits. It's just part of my charm! Right?

How does one explain that one can push a door, but not pull the door? How does one go about asking someone to stop bouncing their knee, because the seats are connected and it's causing stabs of leg pain every time they bounce? How does one explain that you aren't being slow to move out of the way because you want to inconvenience them, but instead are having to judge how to manage the bags you are carrying (especially since you still can't carry heavy things on your right arm). It's the little things. These are easy for me to handle if they happen with enough time in between. Somehow, they still seem to pile up and I eventually just feel exhausted from the emotional impact those mini interactions cause. I know the average person is not going to have an issue (at least not a lasting one) in these types of situations. But the average person does have expectations. So when one has a hard time meeting the social expectations, there is fall out. Who takes ownership of that fall out is one of the things with which I'm trying to find balance. If we are all on equal footing with equal abilities, then there wouldn't be an issue. In the quick interactions, it's not worth saying anything. But if you have to sit next to someone on a plane, for example, is it worth mentioning and not knowing how the recipient will respond? So many times I think people assume I'm being prissy and requiring someone else to pamper me. If you are entering a building and the person beside you waits for you to open the door, do you assume they are being prissy? Or do you allow for the possibility that they are silently asking for assistance? I can open doors. It's a challenge for me right now, though. If I have a bag in my left hand or shoulder (because I can't carry things on the right/dominant side) it is challenging for me to open the door using just my left side. Pulling is a lot harder for me. There is less wiggle room for mistakes. I can do it. Yes. It just takes some negotiation and trial and error sometimes. It often looks unnatural and awkward.

Brass tacks? Sometimes I want people to know how much effort it took me to get out of my house. Sometimes I want people to know that I'm having to handle pain in order to do simple things, like walk around or pick up a plate. Sometimes I want the recognition that I'm overcoming physical hurtles to even be. Some days are easier than others. And I realize that getting older isn't for the faint of heart and brings with it new challenges. I really don't want pity. I don't want people to cheer me on. Sometimes I just want some acknowledgment. An acknowledgment of what it takes for me. And really, I don't want that all the time. I just want it sometimes.

If I do say something, I have found that most people will comply willingly and graciously - if  (yes, if) I provide a touch of back story. If I just ask someone to stop bouncing their legs and don't include some type of explanation for my request, most times I get push back. If not verbally, then with looks and attitude.

Real life example, you say? Ok. We were at a Billy Joel concert - stadium seating. The group in front of us stood up and seemed like they had the plan of standing for the entire concert. This seems rude to me, in general, because I don't see how someone can not think about the experience of those around them. If you want to stand at a concert, then buy tickets where you can stand and dance. Anyway, the real fun started when I politely asked the person in front of me if she would please sit so I could see. The whole group reacted poorly. Two ended up going down to where they could dance (by the way, they did have wrist bands that allowed them that privilege). The other four stayed in front of us. One woman, in particular, refused to sit. She stood the whole concert, even after those with her asked her to sit. From my end, I knew there was no way I could have stood for the whole concert. I loved being there, but my experience - as well as that of the other three with me - was tainted by the response of those in front. If I had talked about my physical limitations, would that have been better? Should I have to justify why I made the request? When did it become my responsibility to explain my reasons for requesting? When did it become a thing that someone would think standing would be ok when everyone around them was sitting? I completely get standing for a song, or an encore. I support that. But for an entire concert? Would my explaining have made a difference in how those in front of us responded?

The hope, when I do mention either the nerve pain or the cancer, is that the person I'm talking to just takes the information so they can use it as a guide in how they alter their behaviour to meet their needs, without expecting something from me. The chance I take, and is often my reality, is the person decides they know what I need to do, they know a place to get treatment, they know how to heal me, or they have someone close to them that has issues and therefore assume what I need/am doing. My telling someone really is just a data point for me. I like that people want to help, in general, as humankind. I just don't always need or expect the help. I am getting better at asking for help when I need it. So my mentioning my limitations, without asking for something done, is meant to be just data input.

I don't want pity, sympathy, or someone to say 'I'm so sorry'. Truly. Life is life. We all have challenges we go through. We will always have things to adjust to, to learn from, and to live through. We are all human. Life isn't an easy thing for so many, many people.

Part of my desire to tell people is that I want more for them. I want them to interact with their life, not take everything for granted, to live with a bit more of the child on the surface. I would so much rather see the rain as a chance to step in or avoid puddles than something to complain about. I know this is my philosophy on life. I know that I have far more joy in my life than not. And I guess my wish for you (and all peoples) is that you find that true for you, too.

Is my desire to fit in and mesh with the busy world around me stronger than my need for the world around me not expect me to match what the average person can do? Don't we all just want to be seen? Acknowledged in some way? Is my thought of a community (interactions with those near me) part of the expectation I have of the world around me...and one that isn't always realistic? Who is expecting what of whom?

I'm sure there is truth in each side, in each reality. To tell or not to tell? It's just hard for me to find the balance. My balance, to be specific. You all have to find your own balance...