Following up “How to Talk to a Cancer Patient,” was thinking this morning about support groups. Specifically, why I haven’t joined one (Jon has). I know for many people they are invaluable. In part, that’s because living with cancer involves so much more than simply our treatment. Dana Farber has fantastic resources, and my team has been beyond wonderful – both present and empathic. But all the side effects and their myriad variations call for a crowd sourcing of responses. And certainly, the accumulated peer knowledge of other people with cancer could be useful. 

Would I have found out about Bioten (a gel that keeps my mouth from getting painfully dry) sooner if I had been in a group? Possibly. (My oral hygienist turned me onto it.) Are there other hacks I’m missing? Likely.

So why the resistance? Me, being me, I thought at first that I was being avoidant. Like, “I’m not one of those people… a cancer patient!” (There’s likely some truth to this: I suspect that one reason I took so long to write that Globe op ed is that making something public makes it true. Probably why my father didn’t tell me about his cancer until he was told he had less than six months to live, but that’s another story.) 

And, for what it’s worth, I have found it very freeing to be “out.” To be able to discuss my health, cancer, what-have-you openly.

But I still have no desire to join a group, and I think I know why. 

Cancer – any disease – steals time. That can be in the long run, if, say, I die earlier than I might have otherwise. But it is certainly true in the short run. Right now, every other Thursday, Jon and I spend most of a day at Dana Farber in Chestnut Hill. The following Saturday, we spend more than an hour at DF in Longwood, so I can be hydrated and my pump detached. Following that, I have a couple of days of declining energy and (mild) stomach upset. Jon has learned to work during my infusion, but it’s still a hassle. And I often find I can’t really work – can’t write, though I sometimes edit – during those bi-weekly Thursday through Monday routines. It’s worth it, for sure. And we’ve made friends and some happy routines along the way. (Infusion is great for reading!) But it is time lost. 

And so, when I’m up and about again – when I’m back to myself, as I think of it – I want to leap back into my life. My life, with the friends I don’t get to see enough. The projects that matter to me. 

To be sure, I spend a lot more time reading about cancer – and my fellow patients/survivors – these days. I started writing this piece because I’d read this fantastic and encouraging piece in The Washington Post this morning. But that’s an organic interest – an “oh! look at that!” moment – not a scheduled meeting or regular event.

Of course, as I write this, I realize that my interests and concerns may well change over time. But for now, my ongoing life is what I want to spend time with. You are my support group, my friends. 

We’ve passed the solstice. The new year is coming up, the sun is coming back. What better time to celebrate the light and the warmth you’ve all shared with me? (And, again, this piece in WaPo about cancer “thrivers” is pretty amazing.) Love you all.