Nickronicity

Hi blog,

Today Nick and I met and discussed some topics for out books. Since our stories intertwine at certain points, our main goal today was to work on finding ways of connecting our books, showing points where we either were together or nearby, or finding similar emotions or events that we both experienced but weren't necessarily in the same place when they happened. In essence, we're attempting to synchronize our books. Since I'm trying to synchronize with Nick, it has henceforth been dubbed: Nickronicity. I called them explicit and implicit events. The explicit events took place when we were together: high school, middle school, when he was doing his 3000 For the Cure project, and more recently after he came back from college. Implicit events were things like: how we felt at certain points in our lives, major historical events, important life events, and how his timeline and my own seem to either mirror each other or have opposite amplitudes (his life being great vs. me going through the worst stuff in my life).

But before we got into that, we decided to do a couple writing exercises. Nick was working on some of his stuff yesterday and had worked himself into a very good writing mood. He decided he wanted to take advantage of that and set for us a very strange writing task. As he was sipping his tea (which he had made a couple minutes before) he commented on the fact that it tasted like Fruity Pebbles. That gave him the idea for our writing exercise. "We'll write a short story on one page of paper that has to start with 'This tea tastes like Fruity Pebbles!'" His story, once he finished it, was a lot more cohesive and normal than mine. Mine...well...here it is...

This tea tastes like Fruity Pebbles!” the priest spat as he chucked the cup at the nun. The woman glowered at him before staring at the muddy-colored stain splattered across the wall behind her.

“I hope you don’t think I’ll be the one to clean that up,” she huffed irritably. “Honestly Jim, you’re such a fluffing child.”

The 436-year old priest WAS a child though. Although his aged mind was sharp as ever, his body had never grown past five years old. “And whose garnet-dwelling fault is that?” he whined.

The vampire nun rolled her sharp, crystal-blue eyes and started to pick up the mess. “Honestly Jim, thou art a boil. You should be thankful the Creator has gifted us so.”

“Easy for you to say Bev, you’ve got the body of a 16-year old maiden with the brain of Sun Tzu.” Jim walked over and helped her pick up the sharp pieces of glass. “One day we’ll fi this.”

“The cup?”

“Not the ever-preaching cup! Our curse you mutting horse. Now, where did you leave our guest?”

“Basement, same as always. Let me know when you’re hungry. I picked some fresh leeks. Go get the water boiling. We’ll have crème de screaming tortured gooseman tonight.”

“My favorite!” exclaimed Jim.

Yea...anyways. You can probably tell that I didn't have a clue what the hell I was doing. Insanity is a good bet though, for me at least. This is what happens when I don't get to write fiction for several months, the scaly weasel that lives in my head and helps me write starts to do really odd things.

Apparently there's a pangolin in my head

I'm still trying to get this blog to reach a wider audience. As much as shameless self-promotion bugs me a bit, I think it's more important that people start reading this blog in greater numbers (not at ALL biased on that). If for no other reason than to highlight some of the important tips given out during Awareness Week. So if you could share this blog with other people, post links up on your Facebook or Twitter or whatever, comment below, subscribe by email (look right), the whole works, I would be vastly grateful. I've already given you a present in the form of a short story: Relax. A preemptive gift so to speak. Thank you.

Blog, I hope you and I can reach more people, I know that's what both of us want. You like having people read you, you exhibitionist sneak, but I actually feel like sharing useful things with people (...sometimes. Other times I like talking about vampire nuns apparently) and helping them out whenever possible.

Sincerely, your caring dictator for life, Andrew

Relax

Hi blog,

I would like to thank you for allowing me to co-opt you for Awareness Week. I know that you had to sit through a lot of advice that doesn't pertain to you, because you aren't biological at all, but it was for a good cause and I know you like helping people so it works out for all of us.

To the humans: I am very appreciative of all of you who spent the time to read through Awareness Week posts and even more appreciative of those who shared them with others. Of course, just because Awareness Week is over doesn't mean that you can't share it anymore. If you think of somebody who might be able to use any of the advice given, please, please, please share it with them!

Sharing is caring!

As a present, both to you (the blog) and to the humans who have supported me through my attempts to provide useful information to those who need it, I have a fun, light short story. You can share that as well! It's also actually a good visualization tool (see the post Awareness Week: Life is Mental for more details) for those who have stress or anxiety in their lives. Maybe it'll help somebody as well!

Relax

The dull, incessant ticking of the second hand seemed to grow inexplicably louder with every little click. Growing and building on itself like some gluttonous monstrosity until it became so gorged it burst. Bursting would be good, I decided, then the damn thing would be quiet. It just never seemed to get to that point. Even as three o’clock in the afternoon rolled by in my dingy little colorless-themed cubicle, the seconds ticked on by louder and louder until they were a crashing roar in my head. The florescent tubes burned holes into the back of my brain, a harsh glow cast upon my dreary social prison. 

I stared blankly at the computer screen, which had been frozen on a graph for the last hour and a half, a graph that I was supposed to clean up and present the next day. Briefly, I wondered if it was possible to get permission to go home if I mysteriously wound up with a staple in the middle of my forehead. The stapler whispered for me to give it a try. That was disconcerting. I ignored its pleas to taste human flesh and drummed my fingers on the unresponsive keyboard while I waited for someone from IT, whom I was beginning to become certain had been sucked into some interdimensional portal. Or was busy. One or the other.

“At least try it!” the hungry stapler grumbled irritably.

“I am not going to slam you into my forehead,” I told it sternly, and the office supply fell mercifully silent. The last thing I needed was someone to come by and wonder why I was talking to a stapler. I hate slow days.

All around me the tapping of keys rose up from beyond the flimsy excuses for walls that served as my three-sided cell. The sound drifted above the barriers and seemed to taunt me and my inoperable device. I considered threatening it again, but you can only mutter death threats to a computer so many times before it becomes weird, and I had easily surpassed that limit five minutes into the malfunction.

As I rocked back and forth in my squeaky office chair, content that any noise was better than the cacophonous roar of the passing of time, I looked around my desk and spotted the one welcome sight in the building: empty space. With nothing better to do, I rolled my chair over and folded my arms atop the only place I wanted to be and laid my head on them. My eyes fluttered closed almost immediately, the backs of my eyelids a much needed respite from the unnatural glare of modern lighting.

A couple years ago I  had learned a neat relaxation technique called visualization. You imagine yourself somewhere relaxing and inviting. Somewhere you would vacation perhaps, or somewhere that appeals to you. Little by little, you add in more details until it almost feels like you are there. It is a wonderfully helpful tool for me, but not one I have many opportunities to practice. If ever there was a time though, this was it.

Mine is a little different from the normal destinations of a warm sandy beach or a deserted island or a clearing in the middle of a forest. I like to picture myself floating on a bed in a warm tropical sea on a clear summer’s night. So I did.

I took in a deep breath. The saline perfume wafted into my head and brought a proto-smile to my previously tense lips. I could nearly taste the salt in the air as I took my next breath, the smell pervading my senses and surrounding me in a cocoon of inviting briny fragrance. The teasing aroma grew more tangible as I inhaled a third time, and this time I really could taste the froth of seawater dancing on my tongue like some pleasantly stinging ephemeral jellyfish.

Now I envisioned the bed. My back resting on a silky puffy comforter, my head on a gooshy foam pillow. I could feel the back of my head sinking down into the foam, the walls of the indentation pressing ever so light against the sides of my head, mashing my hair against my skull in a tender caress. With my hands folded on my chest, the silken feel of fabric against the backs of my legs, I stretched out as far as I could, never quite reaching the end of the bed, which was always the perfect length.

The drone of the clock faded away, graying out until the obnoxiously boisterous ticks became lost in the swelling sound of water licking at the sides of my bed. The gentle sea lapped at the sheets hanging down, splashing fairy droplets onto my upturned face, causing the strength of the smell to undulate with each diminutive wave. Somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out and was met with a chorus from its family. A splash far away signaled a breaching whale. The salty sloshing sea murmured all about me, echoing for eternity in every direction around my cozy raft, with only nature surrounding my floating island sanctuary.

Finally, with all the other senses in place, I opened my eyes. My heart leapt in my throat as a vivid, moonless night sky stretched before me. Thousands of pinpricks of light shimmered and winked down at me. A vast band of dust streaked across the horizon, cleaving the dark, star-spotted veil clean in two. Small smudges could be found nestled in between the brilliant luminous balls, distant realms far, far away from my perfect isolation. I could pick out the constellations hanging above me, and traced their outlines with an outstretched hand as though I were painting them in place for all to see, though this would be for my own private gallery. As I did, a fiery streak glowed white-hot as it crossed the twilight dome in a glorious, short-lived burst that left a green afterimage burned into my vision, flitting across my sight like a playful wraith.

The last thing to do was let go. Part of me was still thinking about my report, was still wondering when the damnable IT kid would show up to fix my malevolent computer. I knew what to do though. I took my hands and placed them as though I were cupping a small ball. Focusing intensely, I imagined all of my worries, all of my concerns, everything from the life outside of my pocket universe, and put it in a bubble. I watched as a small spark lit up smack-dab in the middle of the void between my palms and slowly grew into a perfect, glassy sphere with a shimmering surface painted with images from the life I was about to release into the ether.

Raising my head up off the pillow, I leaned forward with my lips almost pressed to the thin film of reality, and lightly blew on the weightless orb, watching as it drifted away higher and higher toward the dust lanes of the Milky Way until I blinked and could no longer see it. There was an empty feeling in my chest where once a knot the size of an office building had once sat. The pit was soon filled by a torrent of beauty from the world around me, crashing in and washing away the last vestiges of anxiety and apprehension, leaving me perfectly satisfied to drift endlessly through the infinite ocean of my new home, with only the sea life and the far-flung heavenly bodies to keep me company. What I am now is a lone witness to all of this stunning, radiant beauty. And really, you can’t get any better than that: a familiar, comfortable place to take in the breathtaking scenery. A place to just…relax.

Your mildly benevolent wordsmith, Andrew

Awareness Week: Life is Mental

Hi blog,

Well, today is the end of Awareness Week, it's the last post. Subsequently, I also think it might be the most important. This post isn't just for cancer patients and survivors, it's for EVERYONE. Not only is there a little something for everyone to take away, but there's also an enormous amount of awareness (go figure) embedded within the words that will follow these. So sit back (or forward, maybe stand if you want, whatever you like), hold on, and use your eyeballs.

Cancer isn't just about cancer. I can hear you scratching your heads from here (might I suggest a better shampoo?), but hear me out. The actual cancer itself is just part of the problem, there's so many more aspects of the disease that come into play, both directly and indirectly. In my previous post I discussed two side effects that don't get a lot of attention, but left out the most important of all side effects. It's an almost taboo subject in our society, regardless of whether or not you've had cancer. But for cancer survivors, it's one of the biggest hurdles for recovering and living a normal life. It's something I have struggled with for some time and am slowly making progress on. Give up? It's a little something called "mental issues." (Although I suspect the title might have given it away some)

Yes, mental illness is extremely common amongst cancer survivors and patients. It makes perfect sense when you think about it, but most people don't. It is an underwhelmingly undiscussed topic both in cancer recovery and in life in general. People hate talking about mental illness. My theories on why this is the case are not relevant to this blog, although I have several. The goal of Awareness Week is to spread, wait for it...AWARENESS about the problems that cancer patients and survivors must go through. It is an enormously difficult thing to piece your life back together after being dealt such a crippling physical blow, but you and everyone around you is so focused on getting your physical health in as good a shape as they can that often your mental state is neglected to some degree. The people around you, those who are supporting you, don't really understand that not only are you battling the cancer, but also any range of mental and emotional problems such as: depression, anxiety, paranoia, intense anger, panic attacks, nervous breakdowns, manic behavior, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, and the list goes on.

There are a few aspects of this topic that I would like to cover. One for the patient/survivor, and another for those supporting them.

How to cope with mental pain:

• Depression: Probably the most common feeling associate with a cancer diagnosis, both for the patient and their family and friends, depression can be a difficult problem to kick. Remember that there are social workers at the hospital who are used to talking to cancer patients and have a sympathetic ear, they will listen if you talk to them. Also, don't be afraid or ashamed to ask for
  
  anti-depressants, they can help to improve your mood to some degree and (if you read the first post) being in a better mood can actually increase your chances of survival. Another good way to stave off depression: laugh (mentioned in the first post). By laughing, you are telling yourself that things aren't completely hopeless, that you can still find joy in the world. Finding some happiness  will go a long way toward dispelling some of that darkness that threatens to cast a pall over your thoughts. One last tip: talk to yourself. Tell yourself that you are feeling good and that you will get through this. At first, it will seem silly and like you're lying to yourself, but if you repeat this to yourself often enough, you will start to believe it and it might make all the difference in the world.
• Anger: It begins with the diagnosis itself. Being told that your life is about to radically change, likely forever, is enough to rock even the most thick-skinned people to their very core. There is a sense of betrayal, your body has turned on you and is eating you from the inside out. That's normal. Anger is normal. It is extremely difficult to be able to direct all of that hate and fury to the cancer though, because you can't necessarily see it and so a lot of the anger ends up transferring to people around you. Inevitably, you will snap at somebody you care about for doing something that normally would not bother you in the least, but without an outlet for your anger, you will lash out at those closest to you. It is your duty to apologize and let that person know that you didn't mean it. The best thing you can do to actually deal with the anger is to find an outlet for it, whether it is in violent video games, beating a piñata, or yelling into a pillow, if you can find a method of dispensing that anger into an inanimate object, it will alleviate the rage to some degree.
• Anxiety: Probably the issue that I have the most problem with myself, anxiety can be a nearly crippling force that threatens to overwhelm you in every possible way. Luckily, there are a number of anti-anxiety medications available and this will dull the most potent effects of the  
  
  anxiety. It would help to learn some relaxation techniques (Relaxation Techniques for Stress Relief) as well, as this will serve to calm your thoughts and sooth your racing mind. Personally, I find that deep breathing (easy one: breathe in for 5 seconds, hold breath for 5 seconds, breathe out for 5 seconds, hold breath for 5 seconds, repeat as necessarily) and visualization (slowly putting yourself into a relaxing scene, like being on the beach, be sure to include all 5 senses) are the most helpful, but these methods differ from person to person and you should be encouraged to try as many out as you want to find the ones that work best for you.
• Suicidal thoughts: Obviously the most dire of mental problems, if you (or the person you are supporting and/or caring for) starts to have suicidal tendencies or thoughts, you should tell your doctor right away so you (or they) can get the help that they need. This is not something you should tackle on your own, the stakes are too high for that. When things are this bad, you want as much professional help on your side as you can get. Here is a link to the Suicide Prevention Lifeline: click here.

How to offer support: To those who are trying to support somebody going through cancer, it can be a difficult experience for you as well. Watching somebody you care about slowly deteriorate before your eyes can be an excruciatingly painful experience. It might feel awkward to be around them because you don't know what to talk about and don't want to feel insensitive or like you're babying or pitying them. Sometimes this causes people to drift or pull away, and the support for the cancer patient or survivor will almost always dry up to some extent as time passes, but the people who care the most, the ones who the patient can count on, will stick with them even through the bad times. As a cancer survivor and somebody who lost quite a lot of support almost immediately after finding out I wasn't going to die, I have an inkling about the sort of things that work best for helping to support your friend/family member who is going through their treatment/trying to put their life back together afterward. Here are a few friendly tips for supporting the person you care about:

• Treat them like a human: There is nothing worse than having every damn person give you a pitying glance when they find out what you're going through/have been through. It doesn't make somebody any less human to have gone through cancer, they are still the same person you used to know, so treat them like it! They will still like the same movies (most likely, unless it's a sad movie about cancer, then probably not so much), enjoy the same jokes, like the same music, but for some inexplicable reason people start to act like the survivor/patient is five-years old and needs to be coddled at every step. We don't. We want to be treated like an actual person, who deserves all of the respect and friendship that we had before we got sick. 
  
• Share things with them: Don't feel like you have to hide aspects of your life from somebody just because they're going through cancer. You may feel guilty for being able to enjoy life while they're stuck in a bed, but you shouldn't. Cancer treatment is characterized by very boring periods followed by short, intense periods of crazy stuff. During those boring times, it helps to hear how  friends are doing and learning about their lives, sometimes it allows patients to live vicariously through you. Just because a patient is undergoing chemotherapy does not mean they don't want to hear anything about you. If you have a funny story about a bad date that you went on last Friday, tell it! Don't feel bad about sharing your life with them, they won't hold it against you that you aren't sick. 
• Stick with them: It will be a hard thing to watch at times, but the single most reassuring thing for a cancer patient is to know that your friends are there for you when the going gets tough. It can be demoralizing when somebody you've known for years stops coming around and won't return your calls, it can make you feel abandoned. As their friend, you want to try and keep the person going through their cancer treatments in as good a mood as possible (see above). A very simple way to accomplish this is to put aside your discomfort for a few minutes and take the time to visit, call, or even just text them and see how things are going. 
• Don't give up: Sometimes it is difficult to believe things will be okay. Sometimes you know things won't be okay. This does not mean you should just give up and stop trying to help. In fact, that is precisely when you should be even more supportive. When things get bad, it is imperative that the cancer patient gets as much encouragement as possible to help them get through it. As their friend/family, you have an opportunity to lift their spirits and help them fight off any feelings of hoplessness. If you hear them talking about giving up, don't be afraid to call them on it and tell them they are being ridiculous, because they are. Never let them give up, and you shouldn't either. Miracles can happen (I'm walking proof of that, I shouldn't be alive), so always have faith and be as supportive as human possible (and a little more).

And the last thing to remember is that there is no shame in having issues with your mental or emotional health. It is a very common side effect of going through cancer and the treatments associated with it. Ask for help, follow the guidelines above, and remember: things will get better if you believe they will get better. Life is 85% mental, your brain has a mysterious way of molding physical health and can be one of your greatest allies. A positive attitude is your greatest weapon. 

And supporters? Be there for them, they need you now more than ever. You have the power to help save their life, don't forget that. Make them smile, show them you're there for them, and never, ever give up on them.

Well, that's it for Awareness Week. I hope that you have learned some useful facts about cancer, cancer treatments, side effects, and ways to cope with all of the above. If you know somebody who is currently going through cancer, has gone through cancer, or has friends or family doing either of the former, please share this with them and spread some awareness. Hopefully by getting some of this information out there, we can all help change perception of cancer and learn how to better hope those who are forced to endure it.

If you have any comments or facts you wish to share, please post them in the comment section below (that's why it's there!). Have a wonderful day.

And blog? Thank you. Sincerely, your boss, Andrew