Weekend Retreat

I am going away on a women's cancer retreat this weekend. I struggled for a long time about whether or not to go. On the one hand, I have heard from many, many people how powerful support groups can be in helping cancer patients to deal with the roller-coaster of, well, cancer. And so, from that perspective, I am looking forward to meeting other women who are facing similar situations and emotions and to learn from their approaches and attitudes.

But on the other hand, I struggle with the idea of calling myself a "cancer patient", and when you go on a "cancer retreat" that is pretty much what you are! I don't want to be know as "the cancer mom." I don't want this cancer to define who I am. Before my diagnosis, I thought of myself (right or wrong! ha!) as a hip, cool, young-looking mom who worked out a lot and was smart and laid-back and great at marketing. I don't want this new label of cancer. As Pete likes to joke with me, "It doesn't fit with the Julie Wheelan brand." Ha, ha!

But my hesitation goes further than that. I am afraid that the other women at the retreat will look like cancer patients. And that is scary to me. When I read the Lance Armstrong book, It's Not About The Bike, one of the things that he talks about is how most cancers don't make people look different. The image that most of us have in our minds of a "cancer patient" is actually caused by the cancer treatment, not the cancer itself. I am early on in my treatment, and while the doctors reassure me that I will not experience many of the typical side-effects of other, stronger chemo protocols (such as hair loss or weight loss), I still don't know what to expect. And so I am afraid that seeing other women who are farther along in their treatment will be unnerving.

And to be honest, I am also afraid of whether these women will be strong or weak. I have no interest in being around cancer patients who do not have a will to fight and live. In fact, quite the opposite -- I really need to be surrounded by positive, fighting, take-charge people, because I am motivated by their energy. Will I leave the retreat feeling energized and more prepared than ever to beat the Bitch? Or will I feel sapped of my determination and saddened by what lies ahead for me?

And lastly, I will miss my family. Like I mentioned in an earlier blog, I already feel like I don't have enough time in the day to spend with my kids and with the other people whom I love. And so making the decision to actively leave them is incredibly difficult and one that I hope I do not regret.

And so, here I go...I am off to pack. I leave in a couple hours and will be gone until Sunday evening, and so you won't hear from me until then -- unless of course, I bail out of the retreat early and come home again with open arms to embrace those I love, which I have left open to myself as an option. Stay tuned...