<p>sunrise - It’s good to hear your cold is better and that you are feeling upbeat once again!
Sorry about the ticket, hopefully the points will disappear…</p>
<p>So glad to hear you’ve got the cold under control!
Uh-oh, bad, bad cop! Picking on cancer patients? Traffic cops should not be allowed anywhere near hospitals. I hope the judge will be more sympathetic.</p>
<p>Keep us posted. btw- you are now postmenopausal and even after the end of Chemo will notice the changes in hair thickness and growth.</p>
<p>Hope your strength is gaining as another week of chemo gets crossed off your list</p>
<p>BB: I’m actually in favor of watching for poor driving around hospitals. All those distracted pedestrians… </p>
<p>Sunrise: I’m sorry to hear you got a ticket! How annoying! But how nice that you’re tolerating the chemo so well–that’s indeed unusual. My husband also tolerated his chemo well (no side effects, and kept most of his hair) and he is now 12 years out from his initial diagnosis. The aggressive regimens are indeed challenging for the patients but can have much better results. </p>
<p>I can’t remember if you’re exercising regularly? My husband’s theory was that regular serious exercise was what let him tolerate the chemo.</p>
<p>Hi Sunrise! We haven’t heard from you in a while. I hope you are doing well. Keeping you in my thoughts.</p>
<p>Hope your feeling better, thinking of you.</p>
<p>I do hope you’re doing well, sunrise. It has been almost a month since you last posted. Those of us who have so enjoyed your posts are concerned.</p>
<p>Good morning, sunrise. I’m thinking of you and hope you are doing well. </p>
<p>Your son’s graduation plans must be keeping you busy. Please give us an update when you can catch your breath. </p>
<p>:)</p>
<p>Friends,</p>
<p>Latest update. I know some of you were wondering how I am doing, given I did not post an update for a while. All is well. I just got a little lazy. Still no side effects of chemo. According to the original plan, this coming Friday is my last chemo day, but I am planning to volunteer for another 3-6 weeks of treatment long story, its not because the current treatment is not working. I will let you know more about this next week after a consultation with my oncologist.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, here is my latest mumbling.</p>
<hr>
<p>Orchids and Vegetables</p>
<p>The other day, when I came back home from a doctors office, and was walking from the garage to the family room, I heard a baby crying. The only car I saw on the drive way was my high school senior, S2s car. So, understandably, I was intensely puzzled. That puzzlement turned into a minor shock when I saw him holding baby, nursing him with a bottle. On a closer examination, I realized that it’s a doll the size of a couple of month old baby. Turns out, it’s one of those teen pregnancy prevention projects as part of the health education curriculum. Each student is given a doll to take care of for a day. The doll is programmed to behave like a typical new born, that is, it requires constant attention and care with no respect for the caregiver’s other priorities and plans. Unless held to the chest on a regular basis and/or fed and caressed it wails incessantly. I guess the idea is to press upon the teenagers the weighty consequences of their behaviors and choices. </p>
<p>This younger son of mine is an aspiring macho man, determined to pursue a career in military. The scene of him cuddling a new born baby doll was simultaneously hilarious and incongruous, and yet so eerily natural and reassuring. I have always known that beneath that tough man façade lies a very sensitive and nurturing young man. I have always thought that one day he would become one hell of a father, but that belief just became so real and convincing to me in that instant when I saw him cooing the baby doll. And the desire to live to see that eventuality became overpowering. </p>
<p>Before all this happened, when I have thought about what I could do as a grandmother, it was all about how I would subject the grandchildren to the same kind of torture my kids had to endure the endless trips to all the boring museums in the world, and educational journeys to hidden corners of the world. But, that day, watching S2 with this doll, I had this simple desire just to be there when it all happens, to see him wiping the nose of his kids, and S1 trying to teach his kids how to observe people (analyzing peoples psyche is his latest obsession). </p>
<p>Some of those with whom I have shared my various musings since I started this journey might have wondered why I rarely talked about my kids: after all, all third rate tear jerking family movies starring mothers with a deadly disease would have a line that runs more or less like this one Oh, I cant die. I need to be there for my children! They need me. Well, in my case, this is one business I can say largely finished with no untied loose ends. That explains why what my uncertain future might do to the kids has never been a source of angst for me throughout this journey. </p>
<p>No, they are not completely independent adults. Yes, at age 19 and 17, they are still going through a formative period. Yes, they will be very sad if I become part of the statistics (given how bad the published stats for me). But, NO, they will not be adversely impacted beyond what a bit of time and reflection cannot reverse. Whatever happens to me, they will emerge happy, well adjusted, and successful individuals well respected and loved by those who get to know them. I am secure in my conviction that whatever I needed to do as a parent, I have completed it already. My legacy is secure in the kind of outstanding young people they have already become. My values have been already transmitted, internalized, and embedded at the core of who they are. Furthermore, emotionally rewarding relationship I have with them means there is no baggage that will haunt them for years to come in case of my untimely demise. </p>
<p>I have to admit that my style as a mother has never been a conventional one. I was simultaneously neglectful and mindful. </p>
<p>I have never been interested in doing cute art projects with them. I was fairly cavalier about what they eat, when they go to bed, and whether they were doing their homework or preparing for the exams. Truthfully, I found school performances mostly uninteresting and uninspiring simply the fact that my kids are in it does not make the poorly put together Lion King suddenly appealing. Kids soccer matches and other such sports spectacles bored me to tears. I was never the one to make a big ado about their birthdays and other rite of passage events. Elaborate Bar Mitzvahs? No way. I am allergic to big ceremonies: I couldnt even stomach the idea of my own wedding, and was happy to get it over with at a court house. I already told my kids that there would be a special elopement bonus when it comes to their turn. And, a sin of all sins - I worked the whole time leaving their day to day care and feed to a stranger for close to 15 years (a woman who eventually became a treasured family friend). </p>
<p>Yet, I was ever present, 24x7, when it came to the emotional and intellectual environment they were growing up in. As a parent, I have always thought of myself as an ecosystem manager, or should I say, a conductor, rather than the first violinist. I was charting the course of their life 70+ years into the future. Back in my mind, I have always been doing reverse engineering if I want my kids to be a phenomenal success in their own eyes when they are 90 years old, what should I be doing now? I came to the conclusion that the most important skill they need to learn is to create and manage their own ecosystem where they will thrive, and my role as a parent is to help them develop this critical skill. </p>
<p>I believe that the most important ingredient of this skill is to develop mutually rewarding, reciprocal relationship with those around them that matter to them. I genuinely believe that their relationship with others is far more important than their relationship with me. It is more important that they respect and be respected by others than they maintain a close relationship with me and be devoted to me. Most would think these two dimensions are orthogonal totally independent dimensions, not an either or dichotomy. I beg to differ. If we were to compile an anthology of toxic parenting, there will be many chapters devoted to parents whose deep seated, and often unstated, desire to monopolize their childrens universe prevented the children from forming a balanced view of the world and their relationships with those around them. </p>
<p>There is also a cultural element to this whole equation. I grew up in a culture noted for heroic sacrifices parents make for the sake of their childrens success and achievement in life. Stories of college educated parents who immigrate to USA and become chicken factory workers so that their children have a shot at becoming a Harvard educated doctor abound. This cultural trait is much touted as a recipe for a stellar success for Asians in both their home country and as recent immigrants to Western societies. Yet, there is a darker shade of truth underneath all this. The sense of entitlement on the part of the parents to claim their childrens success as theirs and their wholly justified (in their mind) expectation for rewards are also real, often overpowering, and yes, at times debilitating from the perspective of the children. </p>
<p>But even outside the boundaries of the cultural norm among certain ethnic groups, I believe it is easy for parents to fall into this trap, albeit in a much diluted form. For me, who I am as a parent not only reflects where I came from and how I internalized certain values and norms of my own upbringing, but also what I consciously chose to reject. When it comes to parenting, I chose not to be a farmer, but rather become a gardener. A farmer grows crops for utilitarian purposes. A gardener draws pleasure from watching her handy work blossoming there is no useful purpose to this. I wanted my children to be my orchids. Their role in my life is to become that thing of wild, untempered beauty free of any designing scheme, expectation, and anticipated reward on my part. I want them to be free of my desires, wishes, and needs. I want them to have an innate sense of freedom to fly away from me in search of something grander and more beautiful than what I can give. If they were to become a kind, caring, and thoughtful adult child of an aging mother, I want it to be a natural expression of their love for me, rather than a premeditated act born out of a grim determination to do the right thing. I want to enjoy them as a gardener watching a blossoming orchid the sight of its luxuriant bloom and the whiff of its natural fragrance even if it is from a distance. I do not wish to enjoy them as a farmer would by consuming the vegetables putting them through a juicer to forcibly extract whats good in them. </p>
<p>When I first got my diagnosis, amid a myriad of mixed emotions, I felt profoundly grateful that this happened after most of what I set out to do as a orchid gardener has been completed. The ecosystem of the garden is operating at a maximum capacity. The soil is fertile. Climate has been created just so. I could already see some indications of the wildly beautiful blooms to come in the future. I have every intention to do everything within my power to emerge as a long term survivor, but even if I fall right in the middle of the statistical distribution curve (which means, I may not even be around to see S2s college graduation), I have no regrets and no worries. My children will be sad, but not bitter. They will continue to develop as orchids, not as weeds or somebody elses vegetables. </p>
<p>I had one fear though. That is, the fear of leaving a scorched earth behind me if my grand scheme of becoming a long term survivor does not pan out - the landscape littered with devastating emotional debris and bitterness for H and the kids. Within moments of my diagnosis, it became crystal clear to me that amid of all this, there is one thing I, and only I, have a complete control over. I cant control what will eventually happen to me, but I can completely control how I respond to it that will mean a difference of leaving a scorched earth or a fertile valley behind in case things do not go as I planned. From the very first moment when my family learns about my condition, every word and every little act on my part will determine what kind of psychological reality they will be living in, not just next few months but perhaps even years to come. That, its all up to me I have the singular power to determine what it will be. For a Type A personality freak like me, this presented a galvanizing opportunity to rally around. How often does one have an opportunity to work on a mission where she, and no one else, has a complete control over? For the orchid garden that I tended for close to 20 years, my cancer did not have to become the spring frost or drought that would ruin the bloom. Instead, it could become a different kind of a fertilizer that will bring even more exotic hue to the natural beauty of the orchids. As a gardener, this is exactly what I set in motion within moments of my diagnosis.</p>
<p>A few days ago, S2 blurted out when he came home to see me exercising Mom, you are virtually indestructible! I thought I would have to baby you and coddle you during your chemo, but you are giving me no opportunity! I guess its his way of saying he is relieved that I am doing well. These days, I see S2 as much more mature and anchored young man - in good spirit, full of hope and excitement for going away to college this fall. I wont know whether he grew more mature as a result of what happened to me and how I responded to it. But I do know that what happened to me did not turn him inward and bitter with his natural growth thwarted. The other day, I was talking with S1 over Skype, and I was sharing with him my observation that cancer took away certain things from me but also gave me gifts that I did not see coming. That, in aggregate, I view cancer as a net positive impact on my life, even if I have to shave a few years off my life expectancy. He said, Mom, you are almost making me feel cheated for not having a cancer of my own! </p>
<p>There are few things in my life that I can genuinely say, I accomplished this, and I am proud of myself many of my accomplishments are byproducts of fortunate circumstances I found myself in, and cant be wholly attributed to my, and mine only, actions and choices. But, for this, I will claim credit that I managed to enrich the orchid garden by turning potentially toxic chemicals into wonderful fertilizers that, my kids learned through this whole process that one can find beauty even in the worst train wreck if one knows which debris to lift to find it.</p>
<p>Sunriseeast, I am humbled and thankful for the opportunity to be part of your Parent Cafe “family.” You are amazing, and my thoughts and prayers continue to be with you.</p>
<p>Sunrise, thank you for posting. We are delighted to know you are doing well and that life seems so promising and joyful for you right now. </p>
<p>Can I ask a favor? Can you “decloak” via PM to one or two long-term CC’ers who have been particularly supportive to you? I mean, pick one or two that you really trust, let them know via PM your real-life name & phone number, and the name of your husband. That way, if we don’t hear from you for awhile, one of your trusted CC friends can just check up with a phone call, email – or just a text message – and let us know that you are o.k.</p>
<p>Otherwise, there are some of us who, knowing your initial diagnosis, naturally fear the worst. And I am sure there are many lurkers who have followed your progress without posting, so it goes far beyond the user names of the posters of this thread. </p>
<p>Of course I am hoping there will be a time when we all lose interest – when you have been in remission for many months and we all just count you as being a “survivor” rather than a “patient” — but for now I believe I speak for many when I say that you are on our minds and we still crave frequent reassurance that you are healthy and strong.</p>
<p>Sunrise so good to hear from you and thanks for so deeply sharing your thoughts you have given me much food for thought.</p>
<p>sunrise, It’s good to hear from you. I was among those who were uneasy when you were silent (on the forum) for so long.</p>
<p>I think that you have (at least) two books in you. I found your description of your parenting goals wise and moving, and I’d like to know more about how you went about nurturing your orchids!</p>
<p>Sunrise, I hope that you print out these posts and share them with your sons someday. I know they would cherish them.</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>calmon,</p>
<p>Happy to oblige. I will “unclock” myself to you, wis7, countingdown and dougbetsy (if it’s OK with them). countingdown and dougbetsy know my “normal” CC login. S1 goes to the same school as countingdown’s, and S2 will be on similar path with dougbetsy’s son. wis7 and I have been exchanging a lot of primate messages.</p>
<p>I will send you a separate PM.</p>
<p>It’s great that you are all now “REAL” friends as well as virtual friends. I often feel I get closer to some of my cyberfriends & are more crushed when they have crises or have other problems than some of the folks I know in real life. Great that you’re trading contact info!</p>
<p>Would love to keep in touch. You need to print out all of your long posts. They are a legacy for your family- decades later. Something your sons can show your grandchildren when they are late teens or older- they reveal information that will explain to them how their father became who he is.</p>
<p>sunrise, I am one of those lurkers (with my own, much less daunting, cancer episode in my past). I can’t tell you how tickled I was to see that you have been exchanging primate messages with wis7. I have this image of you posturing with a terrifying “Ugh!” emanating from your lips. Hope you don’t mind that you are quite neanderthal in this vision. I have no doubt that you’re using the same intensity and intimidation against that stupid cancer.</p>
<p>Take care. And “Ugh!” to you.</p>
<p>what the #$%^$</p>
<p>Now that I read my previous post, I can see how hilarious it is! For a typo, this is a really good one… “Primate” exchange, hah!!!</p>
<p>unclock -> uncloak
primate -> private</p>
<p>I don’t proof read well or at all. How embarrassing. I would like to assure you that in real life, I am not as functionally illiterate as I sound in my posts…</p>