My Naïve Choice – March 25, 2010
One thing I really miss about not working is my daily connection to students. Not only the connection to their positive energy but moreover the opportunities I had to interact with their academic pursuits. Although I have never held an academic role, I would always make myself available to students looking for input on classroom assignments. So when a SAIT student recently requested an interview for a journalism project, I enthusiastically responded, “Name the time and place.” We picked a time and completed a brief phone conversation about my journey so far with cancer.
When Jared asked me about the interview I told him the questions were fairly typical; tell me how you were diagnosed, what has changed for you, how did you tell family and friends, and so on and so forth. However, I admitted I found the first question challenging to answer. Jared inquired about the content and I replied “She asked me why I chose to take such a positive attitude towards fighting cancer.” I had given a typical response; that I had a strong support system, that so far treatment was going well, that I was doing everything I could to improve my health and that those things help me stay positive. However, I admitted to Jared that my response felt cliché as I really didn’t know how to react to a question whose answer seemed obvious. Jared reminded me that although reacting to a cancer diagnosis positively may seem obvious to me, not everyone would have approached my situation with the same positive perspective. My initial reaction to this statement was “Well why not? What other choice do you have but to try and be positive?” Jared simply smiled and said “There are lots of other choices” and turned his attention back to the television. I sat on the couch and turned my attention to the events that occurred during the initial days of diagnosis and I took a few moments to reflect on my chosen reactions during that critical time. Some key reactions immediately stood out.
Friday, April 23rd- After spending most of the day in bed with a headache I started to vomit. After thirty minutes of insisting by Jared that we go to Emergency, I reluctantly got in the car, and off to Foothills, we went. I was supposed to catch a plane that evening to go to Kelowna and was convinced I might still make the flight so I refused to call and cancel it. Three hours after being admitted through Emergency the results of a cat scan revealed a six cm brain tumour and the ER doc told me, I would be admitted that evening and would need brain surgery. My reaction – I turned to Jared and said “See I wasn’t faking” referring to the weeks I had spent in bed with a headache which Jared had at times questioned me if they were really that bad. Interestingly Jared didn’t find my comment very funny. He asked me if I finally realized I would not be making my flight and I grudgingly handed him my phone to call my friend Ange and tell her that I wouldn’t be making the retreat weekend I had booked to help with my headaches.
Sunday, April 25th - After being bumped from surgery I called my boss to let him know I wouldn’t be at work on Monday. I said “I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I know why I have been having the headaches that have caused me to miss work recently. The bad news is that I have a brain tumour. But I am having surgery this week to remove it. Not sure what recovery looks like but I think I need at least a week before I can come back to the office.” After a moment of shocked silence, he carefully responded “Alyson I need to reiterate what you have just told me so I am clear on the information you have provided. You’re telling me that the debilitating headaches you have been having are caused by a tumour that you are having emergency brain surgery to remove and you think you will only need a week to recover. Is Jared available or can I please speak to your doctor to get a more accurate picture of what is really going on?” I laughed and explained that I really had no idea how long I would need to recover but told him that in a week I would at least know when I could return to work. I told him that I understood I would probably need more than a week however silently I fully believed I would be back to the office in time for the June registration period.
Monday May 4th - I was released from the hospital after having brain surgery on May 1st. I came home to open a wedding invitation from my friend Fitz who was getting married early July and I was extremely excited to attend and be one of the two Emcees. In fact in the hospital I had made contact with her brother, my co-emcee to start discussing ideas for the big day. I enthusiastically completed the reply card, placing a number one beside the “Will Attend” space and then smiling as I added “minus one brain tumour” in the margin.
Wednesday May 6th – I sent an email to my closest confidants, my 12 girlfriends from university who with me make up the Bakers Dozen and my 8 girlfriends from High School, updating them on my progress. I told them funny stories about my time in the hospital and gave them the potential outcomes of my appointment on the next day. Although I admitted that a Grade IV tumour was in the realm of possibility, I closed the email with this thought “Now that I have let out all the "scary" stuff - Here is where my thoughts are at - Right now I have far too many positive people thinking about and
protecting me - I feel fantastic - I am young, healthy and am being treated by a world class team - I am absolutely positive that Thursday afternoon my update will be only positive news….now is not the time to exert energy on things we do not know - but to focus on what we do know, which is that I am well protected and I will be fine.”
Thursday May 7th – With Jared, my mom and dad at my side, I meet Dr Lim my radiation oncologist for the first time who tells me “You have Glioblastoma(GBM), which a grade IV incurable form of brain cancer. It is a very aggressive type of tumour and has fingered into your brain. We cannot remove it with surgery but with treatment we hope we can control it.”
Although less than a year has passed, it feels like a lifetimes since those defining moments occurred. I consider now my chosen reactions. To think that on April 25th I believed I would be back to work by summer and today the reality is that I am not sure if I will ever be able to return to work. To think that on May 6th I thought my brain tumour could be nothing but benign and that my summer would be spent attending events like weddings. Instead I spent my summer in radiation and doing chemo, which continues until summer 2010. To think that I would be “fine” after an emergency surgery to remove a 6 cm brain tumour and my life would return to the way it was on April 22nd; well, I can’t help but smile at how naïve I was to the potential result that occurred on May 7th. I reconsider Jared’s comment that there were other choices I could have made and interrupting his program I say “Maybe part of the reason why I am so positive is that I was really naïve to what the outcomes could be during those first few weeks. Maybe I wasn’t choosing to be positive, but rather I was just naïve”
Naïve is defined as “having or showing unaffected simplicity of nature or absence of artificiality; unsophisticated; ingenuous” or “having or showing a lack of experience, critical judgment, or information, credulous, i.e. She's so naive she believes everything she reads. He has a very naive attitude toward politics” Synonyms include, simple, unaffected, unsuspecting, artless, guileless, candid, open, and plain. Based on this definition I would unequivocally describe myself as naïve, not just in how I have approached my journey with cancer but in terms of how I have approached life. I often think people view naivety with negative connotations mistaking the simplicity of a naïve perspective for a person who is gullible or easily deceived and consequently easy to take advantage of. Certainly synonyms such as “plain” and “unsuspecting” may point to why naivety is misunderstood. When thinking about my naïve qualities I focus on words like, “open”, “unaffected simplicity”, and “lack of critical judgment” in naïve’s definition. I believe what differentiates a naïve person from a gullible person is the way naïve people curiously look at their world and believes that the world is predominantly good. A naïve person’s glass is always half full, they instinctually give people the benefit of the doubt and they naturally respond to situations with trust rather than suspicion. Specifically, “A naïve person is someone with a childish/innocent view of the world. The opposite of cynic really”. It is within this clarified definition that I am proud to include naivety as one of my strongest qualities.
Even though my initial positive reactions to my cancer resulted from my naïve understanding of the seriousness of the diagnosis, through my experience of treatment and my subsequent research on brain cancer I have a adopted a more matured appreciation for the severity of my condition. I am unfortunately far too aware that although my current treatment plan is very effective, GBMs recur in 99% of cases. I know that when recurrence occurs there is currently no approved treatment in Canada that will provide me more time. I know that I will need to be monitored by MRIs probably at least every 6 months for the rest of my life and that probably well before I turn 50 one of those MRIs will show the inevitable recurrence and with my family, hospice plans will be put in place. Through my choices to become more informed on brain cancer I have become less naive to the potential outcomes that lay ahead for me. Consequently, although my choice to be naïve helped me remain positive in the beginning, my choice to stay positive today with this matured understanding of my prognosis, must be credited to one of my other qualities. I consider the quote above, specifically that an antonym of naïve is a cynic and subsequently surmise; If an antonym of naïve is cynic, than a missing synonym of naïve must be optimism, a quality which has always influenced my choices.
I am not sure why but I know I am an eternal optimist. In my mission statement there is only one line where I talk about qualities I hope to personify. The line reads;
“I choose to invest my time being ever learning, always optimistic and ensuring I always keep my word.”
Optimists generally believe that people and events are inherently good so that most situations work out in the end for the best and there is no question I have always personified this intent. People don’t need to earn my trust, rather I believe people are genuine to their word and never suspect they would intentionally hurt, deceive or take advantage of me. I know no matter what the event or challenge, I will overcome it because I believe there is always a solution, it just may take me some time to conceive it. Furthermore my faith gives me confidence that things happen for a reason, so no matter how bad the situation there is a positive purpose in the journey that I can look to for hope. Sure there are times where my trust has been taken advantage of, where I have struggled to find a solution or when the journey looks hopeless but even in those dark moments my optimism seems to shine a light on the beauty that surrounds me and provides the will to keep going.
In reflecting on those first few weeks, I am very grateful I had the inherent qualities of naivety and optimism to guide my chosen reactions to the most devastating news of my life. My naïve optimism ultimately set me up to face this difficult journey with a positive outlook. Within those first few weeks there were ample opportunities where I could have chosen to be affected by the potential outcomes. I could have researched the brain surgery process and learned how close I could come to long term impairments. I could have researched GBMs and learned that people with a GBM on average live only 6 – 18 months. I could have recognized that a 6 cm brain tumour was probably not benign and that cancer was inevitable. I could have conceded that I had cancer and dwelled in all the negative things that cancer brings. I could have chosen to be a cynic. But what would that choice have achieved? I would have been stressed going into surgery, anxious in the days leading up to diagnosis and inconsolable once my cancer was confirmed. Instead I chose to be naïve, to focus on the good that surrounded me and I chose to believe that I was going to be fine. As a result of this naïve optimism I was able to calmly roll in and out of surgery, I recovered quickly and was able to return home only 2 days later. I spent quality time with family being open to their love and support. And when I heard the devastating diagnosis, I was able to share it with compassion and courage that only brought my loved ones closer to me and each other. In the darkest days of my life, I am so grateful that my naivety instinctually encouraged me to trust the world around me. As I continue on this journey, I could choose to spend my energy worried about what is going to happen or moreover waiting for the inevitability of a recurrence. But what would that achieve? I would just lose the opportunity to live my life. Moreover although my matured perspective shines a light on the darkness that lays ahead for me, it has also revealed research that is showing huge promise in developing new treatments that could be ready when my recurrence happens. This inspires me to believe that I have every reason to be and remain optimistic.
When I started my current position at U of C in May 2006, I found a quote that I gave to my colleagues and staff to motivate us through some extremely challenging projects. The quote by William Arthur Ward reads
“Real optimism is aware of problems but recognizes the solutions, knows about the difficulties but believes they can be overcome, sees the negatives but accentuates the positives, is exposed to the worst but expects the best, has reason to complain but chooses to smile.”
My aspiring journalist will be calling again in September to complete Part II of her project. I think if she asks me again why I choose to remain so positive, I would quote Mr Ward, and tell her that I naively choose to believe that everything in the end works out for the best. That quite simply with my current health, my support of family and friends, my response to treatment, the research that is being done, and all the things I am doing everyday to maintain my health, there is every reason for me to be positively optimistic. Considering the alternatives, really what other choice do I have.
