We Resign from More Than just Jobs

There are many goodbyes and "I quits" when it comes to being chronically unwell; in my case through a multitude of different chronic illnesses caused by not two, but three tumours in my uterus. I cannot say that I have been gaslit by the healthcare and medical profession over the last nine months (could have delivered a baby in this time, but anyway); yet being unwell takes its toll on your psyche, and most of all, on your entire life. And the loss is more than just monetary. Doctors need to keep investigating to find the root cause; and that discovery on you the unwell patient can be physically, mentally, emotionally and financially exhausting.

It is great to say good riddance to cancer of them all (none of my doctors knew about this until the biopsy results came in, once two tumours were surgically removed, while the third one shrunk on its own.) Knowing that I had cancer for just over two and half weeks (as at the time of writing); and that I no longer have uterine/endometrial cancer is a tough pill to swallow, because I also had to say "I quit" to my romantic relationship, by not wasting another minute of my precious time and life. In other words, by being authentic if something is not quite right. During this journey, my man (now recent ex) was a caring person to me; yet what guided me to being fully single again was being with someone who had an excessive need for something beginning with s and ending in x, while yours truly is nowhere near ready to be intimate again with someone; especially with recent uterine surgery (two hyper-plastic and hence cancerous tumours removed in my womb of all places) with no proposal/commitment from him (in other words, no ring on that finger.) If I had received the latter from him prior to my hospital stay just over four weeks ago (again, at the time of writing) things would have been different. I would have had the chutzpah to want intimacy more, rather than to be celibate. Therefore, yours truly also resigns from transactional s*x, and wanting to not resign from scared s*x.

With surviving a tough disease, life has automatically given you a second chance, combined with the blessing of saving yourself from extra treatments that would have dragged on for months and months, with no full guarantee of success.

These tumours (with the malignancy involved, which thankfully came out with the removed tumours, and has not spread) started with heavy periods, that led to iron deficiency anaemia, two bouts of Pneumonia, Covid, a fall while bushwalking, combined with the nasty symptoms of such illnesses from fatigue to brittle nails, and looking like you have been punched in the face. That, combined with the loss of my last blood relative, while being the executor of his will caused me to go back and see my doctor. And alas, have another blood test, where my Ferritin dropped from 252 to 54 in a short time-frame. (Thankfully my Ferritin jumped up to 92 a couple of months later, in preparation for surgery.)

When you fully recover from a chronic illness once and for all, you resign from the following challenges (per category) that chronic illness (let alone, any form of illness) presents to a human being - even if you are fortunate to live in a country with universal health care:

Financial

You cannot fully say goodbye to physical therapists, because things can still hurt and get fatigued sometimes. That has been my case while being in remission for a few weeks now. As you know, surgery on my uterus was my cure; yet due to my legs being in stirrups for 40 minutes while under general anaesthesia; my upper thighs and hips can get fatigued on long walks (we are talking anything beyond 15,000 - 20,000 steps in one hit). You cannot fully say goodbye to supplements; because they are still your all important lifeline. It is a pleasure to spend $120 per month on hormone balancers, Iron, Vitamin D & K, and Magnesium supplements. And the compliments from others about your figure and glowing skin is ever so confidence boosting.

In the financial sense one-week post-op, it was nice to write a letter of resignation (in my mind to):

Expensive surgery, and hospital admissions. Even with Private Health Insurance (I do not have this) gaps, excesses and co-payments still need to be paid. For example, my biopsy cost alone was $706 with $155 back from Medicare; yet Private Health Insurance only gives you $51 back on top of this, depending on your fund of course. Being sick sucks, and it is bloody expensive. If you want the best and most comfortable care in a Private Hospital in Australia; you have to pay a decent sum for it (just like the American system of healthcare.) Even more frustrating, if you have a pre-existing condition and you have to wait it out, you will still be out of pocket in order to avoid public hospital waiting lists that can cost you more in the end, despite not paying for your surgery in the latter case. And what happens if the contract between your hospital of choice and your current private health fund blows over? You can only imagine.

More natural therapy sessions (like physiotherapy, acupuncture, and naturopathy) than what is usually needed. Add illness-triggered therapy to that for some people. What can be more frustrating is when such healing modalities do not work, yet you still have to pay for them upfront to test them out. No different to medications and supplements not working. (Yes, costly doctor recommended iron tablets not working while severely anaemic, while adding GI issues to the mix. Lovely...)

If you are lucky to have sick leave from your job (not helpful if you are self-employed like yours truly); these entitlements dry up real quick with chronic illness. You lose your career to a certain extent, as well as a loss of income (in part or in full) with needing to rest due to being chronically unwell.

Goodbye fatigue, and other nasty symptoms that can send you to bed at 2pm. For some people, you can also get passed over for promotions and new opportunities when chronically unwell.

Emotional

It is exhausting and mentally draining having to organise and attend multiple appointments with various doctors. You just feel broken, and mental illnesses like anxiety, depression and PTSD get added to your list of problems.

Medical trauma is real, even if you are not gaslit by the medical system.

You lose faith in the system, and if you have money, you do get bumped up the queue for specialists; yet there is still a decent wait to see one, despite your case being triaged up the list. There is an inherent fear of becoming worse. That did happen. Despite being a self-funded private patient, my surgery got delayed by a month, due to a cold that manifested.

It is not fun having to do a Covid RAT test on the day of your surgeons appointment, to then only be told the inevitable by your surgeon. You can (and do) feel angry, hopeless, and crap.

No wonder, because with any form of cancer, your immune system weakens. Cancer is a relentless disease that does not give two f*cks about you. You can feel like you are a burden on the system. Hospital and/or urgent care emergency visits knock on your domain as well.

It is also nice to say goodbye to guilt for cancelling on friends (you do lose them, as some do not understand what you were (past tense in my case) going through.

It is also nice to finally resign from indecisiveness/decision fatigue/procrastination, loneliness and isolation from others, because you get too sick to leave the house sometimes with a chronic illness.

Being told to "push through it" makes things worse. Rest is a survival strategy. Far from a luxury.

Physical

There is a profound difference between being lazy and exhausted when physically unwell. Exhaustion wins, but in my case not anymore. A good nights sleep for me now fixes tiredness, yet the latter was a luxury with anaemia and cancer. Your nervous system does not feel safe with chronic illness, and the symptoms read like a long list, rather than a mere few. Every part of your anatomy is affected with chronic illness. Tachycardia, dull skin, bloating, fatigue, hair loss, unable to poo, and breathlessness (only scratching the surface here) no longer exist in my world. That's right - I quit!

The pain can get so bad that you are not comfortable, even when "resting" in bed. Medication side effects are real. The medical procedures and the cost of them with or without Medicare do stack up. Goodbye drugs, blood tests, scans, infusions, and surgeries. In remission, I do need another scan, yet I can say goodbye to that for at least another 12 months.

It is nice to also resign from:

• Feeling left out.
• Putting life and business ideas, goals and adventures on hold until a full recovery is made.
• The lack of presence and grounded-ness when pain takes over your physical body - often without any or barely any notice.
• A lower bank balance - adding to the financial aspect.
• Having to explain your illness to others, when you do not have the energy and/or the time to do so.
• Pretending to tell that world that you are fine, even when you are clearly not.
• Feeling let down, and losing trust in others and things in general.
• Dealing with a change in your identity beyond your control.
• Physical and mental limitations.
• Searching for the meaning behind the pain and illness, as in what life lessons such is trying to teach you.
• Cancelling plans and events, not because you want to, but because you have to.
• Making peace with circumstances that you wish was not your reality.
• Living on Google and AI to research recovery times etc.
• Fasting for certain procedures, and giving up certain foods. For example, I had to sacrifice my favourite herbal teas to prepare for this surgery, as continuing to drink such could impact the anaesthesia. (Despite such teas being beneficial to my healing.)
• A loss of privacy and control.
• Hospital gowns and beds.
• Needles being pricked into my veins - together with oxygen masks and cannulas.
• Being inauthentic. Because you just do not have the energy to be otherwise.
• Medical staff asking you a million questions to better understand you, and in order to help you; even if you are too hungry (when fasting) and tired to answer them.
• People (despite their kindness) asking you "what can I do for you?" without narrowing it down to at least two creative ways. It is exhausting for the chronically unwell person to think straight and ask for support in return.
• People no longer telling you that "things happen for a reason," and that "they only send it to the strong ones."
• People (outside of your team of medical staff) trying to fix your chronic illness for you, and telling you about a similar experience that they have had. Cancer happens in different parts of the body, and every cancer patients journey is different. Some people need chemo (for example) while other cancer patients do not. (In my case, surgery in the end was more than enough).
• Medical errors (despite your medical team being human beings themselves, doing their utmost best for humanity.)

It is no wonder why chronic illness significantly affects the psyche, and the mental health of the individual experiencing such in a profound way.

Goodbye and good riddance chronic illness. You have served a specific purpose in my life. Grateful for great physical, emotional, financial and mental health again. Thank you so much.