Breathe
By Cristina Massa
A little more than a year ago, I published in Opinion 51 a text called "The girl got cold" (https://www.opinion51.com/invitada-cristina-nina-se-enfrio/). In it I narrated the cardinal sin of a Mexican mother, which is to allow a child to lose body temperature in her custody.
I had not then reflected that this is a venial sin in the face of the one I find myself committing at this moment in thought, word, deed and omission: mom got sick.
A few weeks ago I was diagnosed with infiltrating ductal triple negative breast cancer. It sounds threatening, and it is, although fortunately it is Stage I and the prognosis is good.
Breast cancer is reasonably well researched and therefore there is effective treatment - albeit cruel - when it is detected early. Sadly, the prevalence of invasive breast cancer is such (according to the WHO, one in eight women will be diagnosed with this disease during her lifetime), that we all know of cases one or two degrees apart. Therefore, except for this paragraph to remind us of the importance of self-examination and periodic studies, I will not discuss breast cancer itself in this column.
I concentrate on thinking a bit about what had been, along with that of many other women, my decree and mantra until last February 24: I don't have time to get sick. I had said so because my obligations as a caregiver and caregiver of a teenager, partner of a law firm and founder of a diversity and inclusion company (today so vilified that the name of the business has to be changed), compete constantly and fiercely with the spaces for couples, recreation and self-care.
Nothing else on this last front, and just to keep the symptoms and effects of menopause at bay, requires a full shift. Planning a balanced diet-what if ingredients for bone broth, collagen, supplements to try to sleep (long live magnesium!) and slow the loss of muscle mass and bone density. Exercise that combines cardio, endurance, balance and mobility, because the goal is first to breathe, then to be able to get up and face the day, then not to fall and finally not to fracture.
Meditation so that the cortisol does not go for a walk; and in ambitious plan, massages. Mental gymnastics to exercise and preserve memory, attention, mathematical reasoning, coordination. Psychotherapy to understand and solve the many birds in the head that become words, actions, habits, character and destiny.
Minimal aesthetics - nails, dyeing and cutting, eyebrows, eyelashes, waxing, facials, makeup, body moisturizing specific for each area of the body because I wouldn't use eye cream on my elbows and vice versa; underwear and outerwear, shoes and presentable accessories, in case it is needed.
Varied readings, for pleasure and continuing education. Novels of the century, of the quarter century, of the decade, of the year. The analysis of the legal initiatives to end the constitutional autonomy of the organs and return powers to the Executive. The essays to try to understand how it is that we live in a world whose population is voting en masse to do away with a system of multilateral institutions and rules with protection of minorities, and better to place ourselves in the hands of bullies who impose the law of the strongest; annexations, invasions, conquests, walls, tariffs, violations of human rights for the sake of crass nationalism. Anything goes. Podcasts to try to discern the ethical use of artificial intelligence and even more urgent things like whether I should resist the pressure of my fifteen year old because she is the only one in the school, country, continent, world and galaxy that does not have Tik Tok.
Managing the life of the teenager in question is no small task. How to choose the right permissions when in her social environment are normalized parties with alcohol procured by parents, the purchase of tennis shoes that cost as much as a month's mortgage and outings with no spending limit. How to design academic pressure, physical activity and the imposition of homework that will turn her into a responsible adult and not throw her into an eating disorder. How to encourage a healthy self-image and self-esteem, without banality and frivolity. How to show her the vulnerability and character flaws of her parents without making her lose faith in herself or stop feeling protected. How to teach her to love and accept people as they are, but to protect herself and stay away from toxic friends. How to teach her different models of couples and families, without biasing her. How to choose schools and extracurricular activities in a world that increasingly disdains the path of university education and professional development for women's economic independence, and wants them to go back to the kitchen and have children as the only way to restore the "natural" order of things.
Selection of causes to support in order to give back to the community a fraction of how much I have received. Networks to participate in to share knowledge and solidarity, generate business and shorten the distance between problems and solutions.
Social and affectionate attentions: Celebration flowers, birthday gifts, thank you notes, messages to see how someone is doing who is getting divorced, has a sick child, has not been in good health, had a recent loss. Send this relevant article to someone who told me they were interested in the topic, accompany at the baby shower, funeral, achievement, hospital.
Care for the elderly for those of us who are fortunate, but also responsible, to have parents who are alive and aging. Appointments with geriatricians and neurologists, adjustments to daily life and accompaniment in each new symptom of possible physical and cognitive deterioration that comes with old age. Caregivers, physiotherapies, mobility assistance.
Financial order. Up-to-date mortgage payments, tuition, credit cards, utilities, memberships, subscriptions, domestic support, tenure, property, monthly and annual taxes. Accounts with properly selected beneficiaries; current insurance with adequate coverage, updated will, liquidity for current expenses, savings for foreseeable things (vacations, enrollment, etc.), cushion for unforeseen events, and conservative but profitable investments for the future and retirement.
Regular medical check-ups, clinical studies and timely attention to every sign that something is wrong, without falling into hypochondria and panic. Internist, eye specialist, dentist, periodontist, dermatologist, gynecologist. Gynecologist. Gynecologist. There, with the mastography and breast ultrasound and subsequent biopsy upon detecting an irregular border on a fibroadenoma (or the little ball I felt near the armpit, in correct Spanish), we found that, indeed, mom's breast (no accent) (with accent) went bad. It turns out that if I didn't have time for cancer, I'll have to have it done.
Now we have to take this matter with bazookas of chemotherapy, surgery, maybe radiation. We are already there.
Now comes a stage of doing all of the above in three-quarter, one-half, one-quarter, some zero days. As it can be. As it has to be because I will cease to be, even temporarily, as efficient, responsible and productive as I have tried to be. My task is to do everything in my power to make sure that the remainder is covered in some way, and what is not, well, not.
By putting oneself in the hands of third parties, which is the worst thing I do. Asking for help, which is what I like the least. Accepting graciously, although with pain, that my partners and my team absorb part of the shock to the business, so that my clients continue to receive the quality service and opportunity that they pay for and deserve.
Tolerating that I cannot control or micromanage my environment in the same way. By arming myself with patience for the effects of chemotherapy as aggressive as this one, because it is the cost of maximizing my chances of getting this chingadera (also in very correct Spanish) out of my system, even if I go through the mother of all crudas after each infusion. Understanding that this is not just happening to me. My boyfriend is facing a short term future (God willing) of his wife with no hair, no eyelashes, no energy, no chichis, no libido. Nice.
Listening to advice and remedies from those who have been through this for the wig, the neuropathy, the nausea, the chemo brain. Receiving the love, cheers and care from my fabulous support network, but trying to maintain my agency and independence on the days without discomfort. Doing things that give me joy and recharge my battery, even if there's a pending or seven unattended.
Keeping an eagle eye so that my little girl, who is no longer a child, continues to have containment and attention, but letting her mature and grow in the face of this attack to the waterline that is for children the reality of their mother's fragility.
Accepting that it is not and will not be what it used to be.
The mother got sick. Daughter. The sister. The partner. The partner. The boss. The friend. The activist. The mentor. The piñata organizer. And you have to pause to fix them.
The world will keep on turning regardless. What a lesson.
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