The other day I was waiting for my radiation treatment in the Female Lounge, a little waiting room just for breast cancer patients (survivors, really, since we’ve all had surgery already), and I really took in my surroundings. The room is a pretty functional, no frills kind of place, down in the basement of the cancer hospital. Pale yellow walls and no windows, except in the door to the grey hall. There are a few nondescript chairs, a restroom, lockers and a changing area. The women, many of whom are still bald from chemotherapy, don hospital gowns of the worst washing-out variety: drab grey. There’s an air of resignation as we wait to climb into unforgiving machines, bare our chests, which have been maimed to varying degrees, and get nuked every weekday at the same time for more than six weeks.
Sound dreadful? Well, it is and it isn’t.
It sucks, don’t get me wrong. But, who knew that what takes place in this little room would become a favored part of the day? Go figure. A perfect example is a conversation I had the other day with a woman I’ll call Fran, who is a no-holds-barred kind of person anyway, punctuated by the baldness and gown. We were talking about what we are learning from this whole experience, a topic I rather enjoy. We commiserated about how busy busy we had been before, where nothing could slow us down. Nothing, that is, except for the Big C.
Then Fran looks right at me and says, “Cancer strips away the bullshit.”
Indeed it does, my friend. “Say more,” I say.
“You don’t have room for any bullshit, when your ass is going through cancer treatment. No one else has to get [to treatment] every single day. No one else is losing their hair for you. No one else pays the hospital bills. There ain’t no room for bullshit anymore.”
Well said.
In the microcosm of the Female Lounge, no bullshit means we are stripped away of topics that usually hold our attention, like small talk, what we look like, what other people think, what to do next. Under normal circumstances, you might hear a lot of “what do you do?” and “where do you live?” when people first get to know each other. Not so in the Lounge. These women get right to the point, no matter if you just met someone the day before. Instead, the conversations consist of questions like “what’s your experience been like?” and “what are you grateful for?” and “how does God factor into your life?”
On a larger scale, no bullshit means taking away the common distractions of life. The busyness, the reasons, the obligations, the excuses. Fran took a leave of absence from her job so she could focus on healing and recovery. I too have been fortunate enough to be able to take time off from work and have chosen to take exceptional care of myself. Without the normal bullshit, I’ve pared down to just the essentials in my life, which include:
-Sleep, lots of it, including naps whenever the mood strikes
-Daily quiet time (meditation)
-Healthy, nutritious whole foods
-Spending time laughing and talking with family
-Snuggling and tickling my kids
-A balance of activity (yoga, walking) and rest
-Sunshine, fresh air and nature
-Deep, meaningful conversations (coaching, being coached, connecting with friends and other survivors)
-Listening to inspiring music
-Regular mind/body healing and bodywork
-A good dose of entertaining TV (ok, this isn't essential, but it's fun nonetheless)
-Writing
So what if you stripped away the bullshit in your life? What would be left? What are the essentials that would fill you with joy, pleasure and energy? How and with whom would you spend your time?
This is a mental exercise that is well worth indulging in. Don’t wait for circumstances to do it for you.
Photo via wader
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