I have always grappled with this empty word called 'normal' and what it actually means in the grand scheme of things, but I suppose, for some, it depends in what context you use this word. For me, this 'normal' notion appeared after I was unfortunately diagnosed with cancer.
My, how that word put the brakes on. Full emergency stop and engine off.
Truth be told, my wife has often hinted that I was always a tad 'abnormal'. But hey, that's her privilege. She's earned it. Haha.
I have often been called an 'out of the box' thinker, as my mind jumps from one creative egg to another. Have you ever watched those crazy water frogs at Alton Towers? The ones where they spit from one point to another. Well that definitely describes how my mind works. Spit....splash....spit....splash....'Normal'!
As I mentioned, two years ago, my so called 'normal' or 'previous' life came to a sudden halt and everything pre-cancer began to fade. It was at this point I began questioning my very existence, my purpose. Did I have one? What will happen to me? Will I survive? Will I be the same, if I do survive?
A couple of months ago, my GP and I had a long chat (yes, i had a full twenty minutes) and we began to explore the current state of my mind. She felt I needed time to address my future as I was still in 'grieving' mode but beginning to show signs of moving on. I took this agreed time off to reflect on 'pre cancer' times and what, if any, I could salvage. That time proved useful and allowed me to begin the process of thinking about old and new ideas. You see, i tend to think we can easily fall into the trap where you start to compare pre cancer times with your current situation. Sometimes, the picture you paint turns out to be negative and you fall into a nostalgic haze. For example, i used to have the ability to cycle forty-sixty miles with ease but recently, I have only been able to manage around ten. At the time, I did not take into consideration the effects of the treatment and of course, my age. I just saw this physical/emotional wreck appear in the mirror and thought, this is it. I am really grateful to that GP for letting me take that time out to mentally begin the challenge and prepare myself for the next stage.
To note. During this period, my PSA had dropped to almost zero and the cancer management and treatment had worked. I then spoke to my oncologist regarding reducing or even stopping the monthly injections. He did not agree to stopping the treatment but we did look into possibly stopping the injections and taking a daily pill at a reduced dosage. It is a risk, but one I am willing to take and hopefully try and reduce those horrible side effects and attempt to claw back some lost energy and a better quality of life. This will start soon.
A couple of weeks ago, I met with an occupational therapist, a chatty wee nurse who kept twisting her head and neck and eventually told me she had 'crik' in her neck. I thought, to begin with, she was trying to avoid eye contact with me. Once we had established it was her 'crik', our conversation developed around a thing she called 'the new norm'. She had picked up from our conversation that I was dwelling too much in the past and that it was time to work on this anxiety and start a 'new norm'. She must have looked into my face and realise I did not have a clue what she meant. I said "Eh? A new norm? What in the name of ...... is that? More psychobabble?
This 'new norm' appears to be a new psychological phrase or jargon used to describe a time in your life that has been changed dramatically by a trauma. I hear all too often from impatient people, "You just have to suck it up Eddy and get used to it. Lifes a b**** and you just have to pick up where you left off get on with it." Yes, I agree. But, if only it was that easy. Come on then, your so smart, show me?
How do you measure your 'new norm'? How do you do it? Is there a manual? Is it as simple as that impatient person says?
For me, physical recovery can be a lot easier to measure than psychological recovery. Some people can react fairly quickly, psychologically, and recover, but others need time and support. I was the latter. The problem with the psychological situation is that there is no visual evidence to attract sympathy from the general passer by. There are no crutches or bandages or bruises in view. You are, as John Lennon's song said, 'crippled inside.'
This miraculous thing inside our skull called the brain processes so much data throughout your lifetime that sometimes it can become confused. Especially when hit by a trauma and it needs the same patience, support and undivided attention that physical treatments receive. So, how do I begin my 'new norm'?
According to my occupational therapist, I needed to stop the nostalgia trip and address everything related to my life before and after cancer. Accept that at this time you may not be capable of doing fifty or sixty miles on a bike but accept for the time being that you can do ten and continue to do ten and over time, this may increase. Oh, and add this philosophy to any other areas.
So, I now, apparently, have the opportunity to start something fresh and new, an opportunity that I once thought would never appear. Well, it has appeared and I am now faced with this exciting 'new norm'. You know, it takes me back, as I am beginning to feel somewhat like a primary school kid again, where everything is at that wonderful age of innocence and everything you do and see has a high level of excitement.
My aim from now on is to try and maintain that level of excitement and draw the proverbial line on the sand and use this as my starting point, and hopefully, yes hopefully, I can begin to develop the new me in my new norm.