Occasionally, having cancer yields awkward moments.
I've been a cancer fighter/survivor for almost two years now, and most of the time I just really want to be a normal person, not Someone With Cancer. I am mostly successful at this. I admit that sometimes I milk the cancer treatment, giving myself permission to sit in the fall sunshine, watch TV, or read a book instead of doing the chores that need doing. Once in awhile, I make my equally comfy-on-the-couch husband get up and get me something. I am perfectly capable of doing it myself in those moments, but I suppose it's a little payback for all the times in our 18 years together that I got up to fill his request.
I know I'm successful at being normal when an acquaintance complains to me about her struggles.
Here's what happens: we're acting like two normal people, having an everyday conversation. They forget I'm Someone With Cancer and tell me their woes.
Then... the awkward moment: they realize they're talking to someone whose life had been disrupted by The Big C and they do a quick mental comparison: their problem vs CANCER. Cancer always wins, of course. Once they've done the math, they quickly apologize, saying their problem is nothing like mine.
I'm not so sure about that. Certainly my body had been put through the wringer and I grapple with a life-threatening disease, but my relationships are better than ever, and I've learned to live my life in a much richer way. When I do the math, I think it would be way worse to be heart-broken by divorce or a struggling child or making decisions about aging parents.
So I disagree with their comparison and we have a little "whose problem is bigger?" debate. Gently, graciously, but still a completely unnecessary debate.
A few weeks ago I found this gem in "Jesus Calling" by Sarah Young:
"Every step on your life-journey can be a step of faith. Baby steps of trust are simple for you; you can take them with almost unconscious ease. Giant steps are another matter altogether: leaping across chasms in semidarkness, scaling cliffs of uncertainty, trudging through the valley of the shadow of death. These feats require sheer concentration, as well as utter commitment to Me [Jesus].
"Each of My children is a unique blend of temperaments, giftedness, and life experiences. Something that is a baby step for you might be a giant step for another person, and vice versa."
As a Cancer Girl, I want my people to care about what's going on with me. And I consider myself hugely blessed because the people in my life are wonderful about loving me, being concerned, and still letting me be normal. But I don't want anyone to compare their problems to mine and choose not to share what's on their heart - or apologize for sharing because they don't think it's as big as Cancer.
We've all been given different challenges. Maybe we've been equipped for them, maybe they're equipping us for something in the future. Maybe we made a bad decision and now we're cleaning up the mess. But whatever makes our lives difficult, we're here to share it and help each other along. Whether our load sounds big or small to someone else, it's our load, and it affects us uniquely.
So don't hog the limelight (let me tell you, being in the Problem Spotlight gets old quickly - for everybody), but don't compare problems and edit your conversation because you think your struggle is small in comparison - the other person might think the opposite thing about you!
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