In 1969, Elisabeth Kubler-Ross introduced the concept of the
five stages of grief in her book On Death and Dying. It was originally intended to apply to how
people approach their own death and how those who remain deal with it. Over the years is has been applied to just
about everything from the demise of your pet canary to not getting the latest
iPad for your birthday. You can imagine
how pleased I was to discover that, "After terminally ill patients, the
group most likely to exhibit the five stages of coping are mediocre
golfers." Yes, how heartening it is
to know that mediocre golfers throughout the world are going through exactly
the same things I am experiencing with esophageal cancer. Amazing. (www.mrgolf.com/stages.html) Just in case you have forgotten what the five
stages are, let me refresh your memory:
denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Since I have not yet been officially declared
terminally ill and I am not a mediocre golfer (I don't golf), I am not exactly
sure what stage I am in. Of course, at first I denied it. Why would a nice guy like me get cancer? Why?
Why? Then I thought "Why
not?" I don't recall cutting any
deal with the great unknown for a cancer waiver. Anger?
Yes I'm sure at one point I felt anger but then I couldn't find any one
or thing to be angry at.
Bargaining. We've all been
there. "Just give me a few extra
years and I'll never touch another drink of alcohol again." Fat chance.
Depression. Believe it or not, I have very little experience with that,
so I'll probably have to work on it. Acceptance. Do I have a choice? Maybe I should take up golf.
Sideblogs: Newspaper
stories have sidebars, dinners have side dishes, I will now be offering
sideblogs, short quips not long enough for a full post, but on my mind
nevertheless. Here's the first one.
Philadelphians will appreciate this. In my never ending attempt to eat solid foods
again, I made scrapple for breakfast Sunday. When non-Philadelphians ask me
what it is, I tell them the operative syllable is "scrap" or "If
you have to ask what it is, you don't want to eat it." Anyway, I managed to get it down with a
minimum of discomfort. It was absolutely delicious. Four slices of scrapple made my day. It's the little things.
3 comments:
Hi Bill,
As a Philadelphian I've got to tell you that there are a million Philly Phanatics cheering on your choice of scrapple! My husband Stew loves the stuff, I can't even look at it. His favorite side with scrapple is applesauce, just a suggestion because God knows that will go down your throat a lot easier than the scrapple! Sounds like you are making a lot of progress in swallowing and I hope that's the ticket for getting nutrition and strength back.
Take good care,
Louise
Hi Bill,
As a Philadelphian I've got to tell you that there are a million Philly Phanatics cheering on your choice of scrapple! My husband Stew loves the stuff, I can't even look at it. His favorite side with scrapple is applesauce, just a suggestion because God knows that will go down your throat a lot easier than the scrapple! Sounds like you are making a lot of progress in swallowing and I hope that's the ticket for getting nutrition and strength back.
Take good care,
Louise
Bill, Reading your blog lets me add grateful to the list of emotions. My Colon cancer was simple compared to what you're going through. They just cut it out. Never-the-less, like the mediocre golfers, I went through the stages, or should say am going through. The Acceptance is on the horizon. Like you, I've not dealt much with the Depression one. It hit, if you need a shoulder, give me a call, I'm just down the road.
Post a Comment