Well it’s been a long time and not the most comfortable. In late April last year – not long after my birthday – I became aware of a lump. In early June I was experiencing the not so delightful delights of biopsies and by the middle of June I received the news we all fear – I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Thankfully, relatively early stage and treatable, for which I am eternally grateful. But terrifying nonetheless. And by early August I was drawn into the tunnel of alternate reality comprising chemotherapy, immunotherapy, steroids and anti-sickness drugs, surgery, drains for lymphatic fluid, radiotherapy and years of hormone treatments. Plus panic attacks, acid reflux, messed up gut, social isolation and unpredictable fatigue.
Fortunately and thankfully, the treatments have worked and I am now, so I am told, cancer-free. But it wasn’t a comfortable ride. Chemotherapy is horrible, no doubt about it – though contrary to the popular image, I didn’t spend hours being sick. I wasn’t sick even once – the drugs worked well to prevent that.
For HSPs reading this, I am sensitive to the possibility that you may find talk of cancer and cancer treatments overwhelming. All I can say is that each patient’s experience is different. As different and diverse as humanity itself but the drugs, these days, are better than in days of old and not everyone will spend hours with their head in the toilet. But the rear end may be another matter!
What I can tell you is that you have to get used to unpredictability and total loss of a sense of control. Your life becomes a regime and routine of hospital visits, of strange environments -the chemo suite is surreal and can be annoyingly noisy with all the beeps of the machines pumping the cytotoxic poisons into the IVs to prolong and save lives. Beeps because an infusion is finished (or almost finished). Beeps because it was on battery rather than plugged into the mains and the battery is low or run down. Beeps because for whatever reason, it has stopped working properly. Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. An HSP’s nightmare – or at least for those HSPs super-sensitive to noise. Although my last chemo was early October, I still attend the unit every 3 weeks for an immunotherapy injection in my thigh – so I am returned back to the land of beeps, another 8 times until August.
What does all this have to do with the title of this post?
‘C’ is for Comfort is my quest to reclaim The Big C and rename it for me. And rehabilitate and rebrand the notion of C O M F O R T.
I wonder, when did Comfort get to be such a taboo? When and why did it become such a ‘should’ to shun comfort?
What if we were to ditch the perceived duality between comfort and growth? Why do we have to see it as ‘either-or’? What if we saw instead a ‘both-and’ paradigm?
For a highly sensitive person I believe this is essential. HSPs inhabit the land of discomfort more often than most. Things that may be mildly irritating to someone of average sensitivity to environmental stimuli can feel like hell on earth to someone whose central nervous system is highly sensitive and easily overstimulated and overwhelmed.
Yes, facing challenges and growing as a person – moving from passive child mode to proactive adult mode are all important aspects of growing up and to be applauded.
I am not suggesting we hide away, avoiding all thing potentially overwhelming or fearful. I do advocate that we take a lead and encourage society – even those who are not highly sensitive – to find a kinder balance.
Yes, put yourself out there. Stretch, grow, expand – make what was uncomfortable comfortable – if you can.
And, remember that the rules may be different if you are a highly sensitive person. Your natural boundaries and sweet-spots may be tighter and more constrained than for someone who is less sensitive.
We all crave and need comfort to some extent. Not just babies, the highly sensitive, the sick, the broken-hearted and bereaved.
All of us – highly sensitive or not so – can benefit from a chance to slow down, take some quiet time and to allow ourselves time to get off the merry-go-round.
Comfort is NOT a Cop-Out. It’s a game-changer for enhancing and maintaining good mental health.
So let’s ditch the gladitorial battle between comfort and growth and cherish and celebrate C O M F O R T!
With Love and Sensitivity
© Annie Wigman – February 2019