#4 Breaking the News: The Value of Vulnerability
Telling friends and family you have a terminal illness is never going to be easy!
Cancer is so prevalent these days - who doesn't know someone who has had it; battled it; recovered from it; died from it. Its tentacles reach far and wide and so the "C" words comes attached with personal stories, emotions, and responses and navigating those is just as much of a challenge as actually spitting out the words "I have been diagnosed with cancer."
My launch pad into this conversation had a confusing start when my doctor basically said because CLL is not an immediate death sentence, I probably didn't need to tell people, unless of course I wanted their attention and sympathy (?!).
I have cancer but my tribe don't need to know? I have just been launched on a personal roller-coaster of emotions and I'm going to be able to hide that from people? That's not me, that's not how I roll. I'm a wear it all on my sleeve kinda girl.
I trust vulnerability:
Vulnerability allows people to know where I'm at. When they share their hearts, it helps me have empathy and support them where they're at.
I've listened to some good podcasts over the years and, yes, read Brené Brown too. My favourite catch phrase when it comes to being transparent and honest with others is "Intimacy = Into me you see" (thanks Kris Vallotton).
To survive and thrive in this crazy thing called life, we need to truly see each other, to be authentic.
It is a powerful when, in Avatar, Neytiri puts her hand over Jake Sullys heart and says "I see you."
Inter-dependence
So, regardless of what the doctors says, there's no doubt about it in my mind; my friends and family need to know, so they can journey this out with me.
One of the pitfalls of western ideology is our deep-set worship of independence, of self-reliance and carrying the weight of our worries all by ourselves.
But I'm thankful I have traveled to and worked with other cultures and have grown to place huge value on inter-dependence; realising it is a strength not a weakness. Reliance on community. Leaning into each other and nurturing connection and care.
This year, I've facilitated team building workshops and asked people to share a personal need with their team-mates. I watched them cringe and squirm - it's uncomfortable - being vulnerable, sharing weakness. But when I ask the rest of the team how they found hearing each others needs - they loved it, because now they are equipped to help; they are empowered to understand and step up, to fill the gap and build a stronger connected community. Vulnerability allows us all to grow towards each other and in a world that is disconnected, distant and divided, vulnerability really is a super power.
Breaking the News
So with a value for vulnerability deeply ingrained in my spirit, I took a day to call those closest to me and those who need to know. To share my heart, my pain and my burden with my brothers, my grandma, my closest friends and my work colleagues. Each conversation is peppered with pain, yet seasoned with support.
Don't get me wrong, it was one of the hardest days I've ever had. Each time I had to say the words "I have cancer" I could feel the tangible shock and personal reaction to that news.
My first attempt was horrid; my poor brother just got a smashed out version of the facts. I dove straight in, hit it hard and fast, so desperate to get it out and on the table. But I got better at it as the day wore on.
I found if they didn't answer the phone immediately, then sending a text first that alluded to something helped ease others into the news:
"Hey can you call I me, I got some news I need to share with you"
"I have had some massive health news over the weekend, there will likely be tears, just saying"
Their Reactions
I also found not to expect any helpful kind of response from people. I had had a couple of days to process the diagnosis, but their reactions resembled mine in the doctors office on the first day. Shock, silence, incomprehension. That was probably the hardest part. Telling them felt like cruel - bringing a big black cloud into their day. Being the bearer of bad news sucks. And for me, I felt like I was ripping the scab off my wound every time I had to repeat the story.
Some cried. Others consoled. Some reached for hope. Others were pragmatic. Some I laughed with.
During the conversation with one of my brothers, it suddenly dawned on him that I might not be around to care for our parents in their old age and he might get lumped with that responsibility! What a laugh we had - the way we process news and what's important to each person. I was careful to let people respond however they needed to, no judgement.
By the end of the day, I was spent. Totally exhausted. And I hadn't even told everyone on my list. Vulnerability takes a lot of energy! Thankfully Mum came to the rescue with some great advice. "You don't need to be the messenger. Give people permission to tell others. That way it can spread naturally in the community and you can respond as people find out"
Free to ride my roller-coaster
Wow, that felt like such a big weight off my shoulders. I had done enough that day. Those that see me on the daily or who are immediate family knew and the rest would know in time. I was now free to ride the roller coaster where ever it took me. I didn't have to hide it or pretend to be anything other than where I was at on any given day ahead.
Courage, Love and Legacy
There is no right answer as to how you tell your family and friends. We've each got our own story that will influence our personal process for this. Some will be incredibly intentional, others will tuck it away, some will do it in person, others will announce it on social media. Whatever your method, I'd encourage you to dig into your values and try to understand what's motivating your process. Have the courage to look in the mirror and understand what makes you err in a particular direction. For me it was my value for vulnerability and desire for transparent connection with my community.
What is it for you....? Feel free to share your story in the comments below…