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My 21 year old daughter asked me to join her on the Walk for a Cure. I was so very pleased for so very many reasons. Told me she was thoughtful, considerate, concerned, motivated and ready to spend 5 hours with her mother.
And yet, the best I could say was: Hmmmmmmm.
Why wouldn’t you want to? She puzzled.
I didn’t have an immediate answer and said “I’ll have to think about that.”
Both daughters accept when I say that, and give me space. (First time I found myself saying those words was when my eldest – then 10 or 11 – put forward a proposal I just didn’t know how to react to: 'Mom: can I swear? Not in front of you or any adult, just with my friends.' OMG, I thought. I said: 'I’ll have to think about that')
Back to the present: Why wouldn’t I walk for a cure? For starters, I haven’t been interested in a walk-for-a-cause since I suffered high heels accompanying a tall 17-year old I had a crush on. By the end of the day, I couldn’t stand, and we couldn’t stand each other.
And, I’m not a group person: No book, theatre or dinner or discussion groups. Most I do as a group is a morning exercise class and bi-annual lunch with 6 high school buddies.
Also, I pick my causes very carefully, because I seem to get in over my head. When my morning exercise class decided we needed to lobby to keep a favourite instructor who’d fallen into disfavour with management, I took the lead, putting time and energy into letters, meetings and support session. In the end, the instructor left for a better paying job.
The ‘cure’ this walk is for is Breast Cancer. It’s not that the topic is too awful, too scary, too sensitive to contemplate. I regularly and willingly talk to women and their families about their experiences with breast and other cancers. It’s part of what I do for a living and feel it’s a privilege have them share their experiences. I research and produce health education videos for a health education television network. My ‘stars’ are real people with real health problems they continue to tackle. Kind of like CelebRehab without the Celebs. It’s always insightful, and often inspiring.
Through these interviews I’ve learned that one person's health crisis can a community create. And isn’t that just what ‘Walk for the Cure' is? A community coming together? But, I don’t find it theraputic to talk about my own health issues. Maybe, like many who eschew support groups, participants in bad shape may represent my future.
Maybe it’s just too big and overwhelming a community for me. So many women I know or know of have had breast cancer. Some count themselves as long-term survivors. For others, the future is uncertain. I remember a recent family trip somewhere south. We all went horseback riding with a group of tourists. We came to a lake that the horses wanted to get into. One of the woman said she was in no danger of drowning: after a double mastectomy, she had buoyant implants. She didn’t mean it as a joke: she’d been clear for 17 years, and then it came back. Since I have breasts that I’m very attached to, maybe all that energy and focus in one event makes real my possible future.
There could be some cynicism involved: how much of the money raised goes to research, and what kind of research? Is it drug-related, and are the drugs worse than the cure? Do the drugs increase the risk of other cancers.?Is there any investment in systemic changes: to our air, food and water? And then I think: these issues are too big for me to contemplate.
And then I think again. Nevermind the issues I have to wrestle with. My kid’s asked me to walk with her. This isn’t about me. It’s about her. I’m there. She stops and turns from her computer when I tell her. Her “Yeah?” translates to: "Oh wow! That’s great, thanks Mom!”
Kathy Kastner is the editor of Ability4Life.com, for adult children caring for their parents, and is very involved in patient-centered education, and its many interpretations. She is also a CareToKnow.org community member.
More of Kathy's recent blog posts:
Father Kate and the un-anticipated aspects of community involvement
New Guest Blogger: What was said, and what we hear
