Susan B Clarke

It is a time of year where I generally have amble material to write about.  The holidays stir up so many differences and traditions, family and relationship issues that I am rarely at a loss for a good rich topic to explore.  Maybe it’s this cold I have or maybe it’s Bailey; but this year I am just not rising to any thoughtful dialogue.  It’s true I have not read about fights of saying Merry Christmas vs Happy Holiday, or stories of airports having to take down Christmas trees because of religious unfairness so either the world is re-focused on more important issues or I have become a bit insulated here in Montana.

The biggest challenge I am facing this Christmas is a serious, unrelenting cold and a puppy that needs constant supervision.  Truthfully Bailey is learning faster then this cold is letting go.

The cold came on over a week ago now.  Every time I think I have turned the corner and I go to do some relatively simple activity like bringing in wood or walk in the woods,  suddenly I am back to square one.  The hardest part is at night, I can not stop the coughing.  Plus my mind kicks in and I start to wonder if this is H1N1 and  if I should go to the doctor etc., etc.

I have not had a bad cold in a very long time and I think that is part of the problem.  I am really no good at curling up in bed and resting, drinking fluids and otherwise doing nothing.  I told myself if the cold was back today that is what I was going to make myself do.  Bailey was going to Stolte’s for a play day and I was going to stay in bed and do nothing.

I do wonder why a day of complete rest so so hard.  I have never liked having to stay in bed.  I wouldn’t say I am an A-type personality.  Because a lot of my activity is not results oriented.  It is simply that I don’t like being sick, down, or may be the real word is helpless.  I do hate feeling helpless and being sick is just too close that feeling word for me!   Even when I was really sick (cancer, chem – sick) , I would force myself to put on my running gear and step out of my door as though I was going to run.  I never ran (likely walked a block or two)  but somehow I felt less helpless and in control if I could at least make the effort.  Even then being in bed all day was not easy.

Well it’s 6Am I woke myself up coughing and I went out to chop some wood and felt lousy.  Found enough already cut to come back in quickly.  All indicators point to me taking the day off.  I’m try to tell myself it’s okay to do nothing, especially if that is what will get rid of this cold!

I want to be healthy by Christmas.  I think a day of bed rest would help.  That means not even going out for lunch at the Green Tea House or deciding to run and pick up some needed supplies.  No my mission should I choose to take it is complete bed rest.  Movies, books and maybe a better blog then this will come out of it.  But most importantly allowing my body to totally focus on kicking this cold!!  Wish me luck!!

In just a few days we’ll be back into the thick of our work.  We have client work that fills the next two weeks.  In some ways this is a good thing.  For CrisMarie it will give her something to focus on as she continues to integrate the information that her brother is gone.  For me it’ s a way to quit thinking so much about cancer.

Tom in many ways was more of a ‘brother in arms’ to me than a brother-in-law.  I never fought in a war, but over the years I have worked with many folks who did and they often spoke of the unique relationship they had with anyone else who served.  For me, there is something similar with the folks who cross my path while dealing with cancer.  It goes way back to my own fight and the people who were in the oncology department at the same time I was.  Really, the first comrade I remember was the other woman who was in the Life, Death & Transitions workshop with me along with 90 other folks who were health-care providers for cancer patients.  The workshop was run by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, who was an expert in the field on death & dying.  I went because I was told I was dying and really had no clue how to do that at 24 and thought the workshop might help.  The other woman was fighting breast cancer and  had been for a while, much like a long term, multiple-tour veteran.  She  had a very strict routine and belief system.  I don’t think she liked me very much because I was not really ‘strong’.  I wasn’t doing everything by the book.  Of course, I did not know there was a book, but she had a very clear intent and was not going to give the cancer one ounce of  negative energy.  No tears, no anger.  I was a bit more undisciplined, and I sort wished she would cry because I could feel the pain she carried under the surface.  Still, I respected her choice – how she fought.

There have been many more folks since then.  I have sat and talked, cried, screamed and raged with many comrades.  I still am a bit undisciplined in my approach to cancer.  I am not one to believe it’s all about being positive or about fighting the good fight.  I think the cancer fight is quite unique.  There is a bond we share, but there isn’t a common play book that wins the war.

Even after twenty years, as I sat with Tom and he looked to me for some sort of answers, I knew I had none.  There is no right way to deal with cancer.  Just like there isn’t a right way to deal with living through a war.  It’s a bloody fight and many people die.

There are lots of lessons learned from studying veterans.  Though each war seems different, there are the common links.  I think it is like that with cancer.  There are different types of cancer, fast growing cell types, slow growing, very invasive and more contained types.  There are many ways of fighting a war – on the ground, in the air, on the water or even gorilla style.  Same with cancer – there’s chemo, radiation, surgery, transplants and also the alternative style which may be more like gorilla style – not as organized or as obvious.  There’s a mindset that is required to fight cancer.  People are uncomfortable talking about cancer – particularly about the obvious closeness of death.  Much like wars – we don’t like to talk about the ugly reality of a war zone.

But really, for me, one of the hardest parts is when a comrade dies.  My heart aches.  I feel survivor quilt. I question my recovery and I rage against the crazy cancer process.

My war was many, many years ago and yet when I am with another cancer comrade I am right back there in the fight.  That’s why I am glad I’ll soon be back at my other job.  I don’t like the pain of reliving the past.  Of course, I will do it all again if I believe it can help one comrade in their fight against cancer.  Much like we all wish for a world without wars, I wish for a world without cancer.  Oddly, I think war and cancer are way too much alike.  Wars are simply men and women fighting each other over different beliefs and stories that are so deeply ingrained and compartmentalized that the the human connection has been lost.  Cancer is just my cells fighting against each other having lost the connecting link – communication has broken down.

Today isn’t about solving the bigger communication issue.  Though that is the very reason I do the work I do.  No, today still about saluting a comrade.  Today is also about crying for all the lives lost to this dirty, rotten war called cancer.  Tomorrow will be the day to move on and get back to work doing my little part to help improve the way people communicate.   May be someday that will make a difference by helping stop a war on any one of the many fronts we keep fighting them.

We came wishing for a better outcome.  After three days of a hospital vigil, ending with a very moving hour with family and friends, toasting Tom into his next adventure, we left the hospital Sunday saddened to have said goodbye to Tom. Today we’ll be a part of the Catholic Mass created by Father Berg and Tom’s parents.  We hope to also make it back for the less formal service offered later by Jan and the boys at their home and in the shop that Tom loved and was the place he designed and built from scratch, his red sports car, the Campbellini .

I loved hearing so many stories about Tom, and what I will remember most is his love of cars.  As a little guy, age four, he owned one of those red cars that runs on leg power.  One day he informed his mom, Julia, he was off to visit  Dad.  Not thinking too much of the comment, Julia assumed he was playing as he usually did in the yard.  The family lived a ways off the base so visiting Dad was not really an option.  However, after a bit of time passed, the silence concerned Julia, and she went looking for Tom.  He was no where to be found.  She ran through the neighborhood finally asking a postman if he had seen a small boy.  The postman shared that indeed he had seen a boy pedaling his car out on the highway with traffic moving around him towards the base.  They took off to find him.  He was determined to  visit with his Dad.  Fortunately he was fine.  The story is one that set the stage for the two of Tom’s true passions in life; family and red sport’s cars.  Just before he died he finished his twenty year effort to design  and build his own sports car, the Campbellini.  He had won a very prestige award just months into his chemotherapy and as the story goes for a few weeks after that the cancer seemed gone.

Jan, his wife, and his boys now have the car, the trophy and the priceless memories of his work in the shop behind their home, with them at his side, he brought the Campbellini to life.  The shop will continue as a place for the many friends and colleagues Tom touched in his career as an engineer.  Jan and the boys want those close to him to come and build their dreams.  I have no doubt at some point the boys will have their projects our back.

Personally, I hope Tom is enjoying whatever red wheels are available beyond the limitations of this physical world and have no doubt he will be making sure he can visit family as needed to let them all know he’s out there and doing just what is perfect for him now.

I have learned a great deal over these past few days.  People all grief differently, and it has been special to see the Campbell’s make sure each of them will have  a way to let go of Tom.  Today,  it will be the Catholic Mass.  In a couple weeks, it will be the Shop party.  For CrisMarie, I think it has been the opportunity to be present and with her family through it all.

For me, it has been knowing that Tom lived and loved fully right until the end.  Some may see his passing as cancer having won.  But not me.  Cancer may have shortened Tom’s life, but it’s clear to me that the quality in which he lived it was never compromised!  His boys, his partnership with Jan and that red Campbellini are clear proof that he did indeed Live Strong!!

Woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep.  I wanted to since it’s Sunday morning and a good day for sleeping in.  However, my mind was racing and I could stop the mental chatter.  I’ m hoping channeling some of the racing thoughts into writing will help settle me down.

I have been replaying some comments made by a friend about success.  He was referring to who was ‘most’ successful amongst our colleagues.  The two people he name were for sure the guys who sold the most work and made the most money.  In many ways that may seem like the obvious measure of success.  Those seem like common success measures.  I think about clients who put together performance measures and often sales and revenue are fairly high on the list if not the list.

I get that for a company to stay in business sales and revenue are important but I don’t think they are a very useful measure of success.  We talk about vision meaning something noble or a reason to rally and stay together through highs and lows.  I do think that selling for someone who is passionate about connecting to people and understanding their needs and wants can be noble.  I can also believe that making significant revenue can pull people together.  Still I am not sure sales and revenue measure success.

I guess I believe success is much more personal.  I have gotten to know people who by the above standard of success should see themselves as very successful but don’t.  We’ve all heard the statement – “money can’t buy success” and I imagine some of us have wished we could test that statement ourselves.  Having had times of pretty good revenue and times of none, I do get it’s not about the cash flow.  Sure having some does help my ego but money isn’t sustaining or for that matter meaningful. Also selling has only been noble for me when I truly believed in the product and of course then never really felt like I was selling at all.

You may be wondering why is this keeping me up?  I think because there have been too many times in my life when success was measured generally and I watched or worse found myself trying to measure up only to discover later I had lost my ‘real’ direction.

Take tennis – I was very good.  For a long time I never lost and soon I thought winning was the measure of success.  However, winning soon became something that kept me in a very tight box.  I wasn’t willing to try new shots or a different serve.  I became fearful of losing and soon tennis was not the game I loved.

Take cancer – I am considered to have been successful at cancer.  Sure I am alive so that is a definite success.  But am I more successful then someone who died? No  Cancer more then anything else taught me that it’s not about how anyone including me measures a life tomorrow.    It’s only about how I choice to live today.

We are too easily convinced that there is some way to measure if we are doing well or succeeding in life.  May be it is sells and revenue, may be it’s how long we live, may be it’s if we’re married or how well our children do, may be it’s the number of times we win or the kind things we do.

Then again may be we are not here to meet performance measures.