“I don’t want to do today. Can we just fast-forward past it?”
Those were Cassie’s first words this morning.
And they make so much sense. Of course she doesn’t want to “do today.” She’s reached the point of beyond too much.
- A Metastatic Breast Cancer diagnosis was too much.
- Being told she might only have 5-6 years to live was too much.
- The extreme fatigue from the cancer medications was too much.
- The pandemic was too much.
- The summer murder of George Floyd was too much.
- Four years of Donald Trump and his hateful racist politics was way too much.
- Recurring back pain from a herniated thoracic disc was too much.
- Learning she might be paralyzed if she doesn’t address the disc/spine issues was too much.
- The seven and a half hour back surgery was too much.
- Being alone in the hospital post-surgery because of Covid was too much.
- The first four weeks of excruciatingly painful recovery and little to no sleep was too much.
And that was all before Tuesday when we learned that Cassie’s back isn’t healing correctly. That there is too much pressure being placed on the new bolts in her back. That her Mayo doctor is very concerned. That she has to wear an incredibly restrictive brace (it looks like some sort of medieval torture instrument) sixteen hours a day for at least eight weeks!
We don’t list all this out by way of complaining. We share it because at every step we said to ourselves. “It’s too much.” And then Cassie would always say: “But it doesn’t get to be too much.” So what do you do?
How do you handle life when too much doesn’t get to be too much. When you feel so overwhelmed and hopeless (even always optimistic Dan) you don’t know how to move forward but you know you have to?
For us it starts with remembering that as bad as this is, others (many others) have it even worse. We have support (thank goodness for Cassie’s parents right now), health-care, resources and a home we love that serves as a refuge. None of this diminishes how hard this is but all of it makes it easier to navigate the hardness.
We are trying to lean into kindness. To each other and to others. We can’t do a damn thing about Cassie’s pain and discomfort but we can keep expressing our love to each other (more daily kisses and hugs — but watch that back!) and we can keep trying to send goodness and love out in the world. That we can do.
We are trying to adopt a “beginner’s mindset” when it comes to Cassie’s back and living with this damn brace. What can we learn from yesterday that might make today just a little easier? What hack’s might make the brace just a little more comfortable? How can we kill time together when reading and even watching TV are basically out? How do we stay more present than usual with each other (maybe Dan stops checking his texts and emails as much because that’s an activity not available to Cassie right now and it creates an imbalance)? How do we navigate the day with an openness to trying new and different things even if most of them don’t wind up actually improving Cassie’s situation?.
Finally, we are desperately trying to stay focused on today. Not the eight weeks in front of us. Not the fact that when Cassie eventually heals from her back surgery she will still have Metastatic Breast Cancer. We are trying to avoid “future-tripping” as Dan’s brother often says and just deal with what’s right ahead of us. For now that might mean some days where the best we can do is endure. Since we can’t hit “fast-forward” we just have to be in it.
Yesterday, Dan’s therapist shared a poem at the end of his session. It’s called “Start Close In” by David Whyte and the first stanza spoke to both of us:
Start close in,
don’t take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.
So that’s what we are doing since too much doesn’t get to be too much. We are starting close in. Together.
