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I’m reworking ‘Thrive: the Bah! guide to wellness after cancer’ at the moment. There are bits to tweak, bits to expand, bits to rethink before I Officially Submit The Manuscript To The Publisher in March. (That sounds proper glamorous, but actually, it’s quite like sending any other email. Except I will do a little dance afterwards, and give myself the rest of the day off.)
Before I began, I asked Carolyn, my editor, for thoughts/tips/direction. Working with her on the first Bah! book was a real pleasure – she really gets what my approach is all about, and is very good at seeing what will make things better – and all of her thoughts on Thrive were really helpful too.
One of the things she suggested was a section about anger. Which I’ve been trying to write, and failing. Yesterday, after typing and deleting, typing and deleting, I came to the conclusion that I’m just not that angry, really. I did a search on the blog to check, and got very few posts when I searched for ‘anger’ and ‘angry’. A few posts contain ‘cross’, none at all ‘livid’ or ‘furious’.
Well, OK, I thought, I’m not someone who is angry about cancer. There was a corner of me feeling a little bit smug. Too well-adjusted to get mad, it whispered, don’t you worry about it. But in another corner, another voice was whispering too. I didn’t think I was going to like what it had to say, so I ignored it for as long as I could, but in the end I gave in and listened.
The voice was saying, ‘you are angry, you’ve been angry, but you can’t admit it, so you let it out in different ways’. And as soon as I listened, that smugness disappeared in a puff of… whatever imaginary voices in hypothetical corners of the psyche disappear into. (You know what they say: every analogy limps.)
Because all of those cleverly-written-so-you-don’t-realise-quite-how-ranty-they-are rants about hospital waiting times, rude oncologists, scars, PICCs, not being able to work, breathe, do what I want to do? Anger. Anger at the fact that I got a cancer, redirected at things it felt was OK to be annoyed about.
I suppose my feelings are further complicated by the fact that, nasty as cancer is, my life has been improved a great deal by my dance with it. So being angry about cancer has felt a bit like being angry with the teacher who pushed you and pushed you…. until you got full marks in your exam.
But maybe it’s time to admit that I was angry that I got a cancer. Yes, I laughed and I danced, but actually, getting a cancer really hacked me off. It ruined my plans. It upset my family. It turned me fat and bald and knackered. It hurt. And I didn’t rage and scream, because I’m not a rager and a screamer – Bah! is about as cross as I get – but I was angry all the same.
I don’t think I’m angry any more. But if cancer ever comes back to me…. I’ll be mad as all hell. And I won’t be afraid to say so.
I have a chapter pencilled in for my book on anger (hark at me “my book”!!!! hahaha). Ok the circumstances are different but I found it interesting how similar your dealings with anger have been. That’s the problem with having a generally sunny disposition and being a positive person I suppose – there’s a downside to everything! hehehe
When I first found out I had a cancer, I got really angry with the most ridiculous things – I couldn’t find something – was running round the house , shouting at my son , being really not very nice, blaming and bad tempered. Cursing furiously under my breath. My anger at having cancer erupted in this way.
I am not angry all the time, in fact far from it,but when it(the anger) comes to the surface, I let it out , have a good shout and then I shout back and tell it to calm down and that all will be well and I get on with my life!