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Advice & More September 2013

Bad News, Good News

By SueAnn Carpenter

That struck a chord and made me wonder what I would have done if I hadn't been diagnosed with cancer. The bad news is we sometimes have to get rid of the life we've planned. The good news is that it makes room for the new life that's waiting.

This past year has been the bad news, good news type. First I was diagnosed with breast cancer and told I needed a radical mastectomy.  I had barely assimilated that information when the second opinion confirmed the cancer, but determined I was a candidate for an IORT (surgery and intra-radiation) plus 5 years of an estrogen-blocking drug.  Besides being less invasive, the long-term results were the same.

The good news was that I was in excellent health. I had already established a weekly regimen of yoga and walking, plus a healthy diet. The bad news was that the word "cancer" cracked my normally fearless facade.  It confirmed my feeling that gloom is forever, and that my elusive attitude of joy would require relentless attention.  Now I've concluded that from vulnerabilities like feeling sick and helpless one can develop strength.

Each time I was able to take an emotional breath and step back, I was able to remember that I was still in charge of my own life. And whenever I trusted that still small voice inside, I'd try again a little harder. There's no medicine like hope, and nothing as powerful as expecting something from tomorrow. The bad news was that I continuously worried about all that I couldn't do, rather than what I was capable of. My anger at a situation that couldn't really be changed made me reluctantly decide to change myself. The impossible became “I'm possible.” No, it didn't happen automatically but in a way it did occur –  automagically.

I craved to feel whole, but the bad news was that I was consumed with what I'd lost. The good news is that when things are taken, it's possible to discover what's truly treasured. Thankfully my husband always looked at me lovingly and knowingly as I kept serving up giant portions of crybaby soup.  Deep down I knew that if I didn't have a dream, there'd be no way of making it come true.

The good news was at a survivor group someone suggested a watercolor class as therapy. I've always loved art and artists. In fact, I owned and operated a successful art gallery for ten years. I never considered myself an artist. I was a businesswoman. But I went to the class anyway, even though I felt foolish and out of my depth.  I was willing to try anything and everything to feel better.  My discovery was that I could lose myself while painting and not experience pain.  I learned that I could focus on a project, and that I had a natural talent. It surprised me. At my age (67) who'd a thunk it?

The good news was that I was having fun, found it an interesting challenge, and that my heart was in it. The bad news was my constant dissection of my capability and credibility. That's when I was inspired by Grandma Moses' (1860-1961) details.  She had no formal art education.  At the age of 76 she'd given up embroidery because of her arthritis and began to paint. She used house paint. She didn't even have an easel. Her "studio" was an old kitchen table in a utility room. She painted her familiar New York farm life. Just like me, Grandma Moses said she loved "making something from nothing." She sold her small paintings for $2 and large ones for $3. Amazingly, over three decades she created 1600 canvases. I loved her attitude. She said, "If I didn't start painting, I would have raised chickens."

That struck a chord and made me wonder what I would have done if I hadn't been diagnosed with cancer. The bad news is we sometimes have to get rid of the life we've planned. The good news is that it makes room for the new life that's waiting.  I could relate to Alice (in Wonderland) when she said to the caterpillar: “ I knew who I was this morning, but I think I've been changed several times since then.”  That's how I felt this past year as I've re-invented myself.  In a funny way, I have a reason to be thankful for cancer, because without it, I never would have discovered the peace and joy of watercolor.

What's your bad news, good news? And how can you approach it creatively for your own sanity and emotional growth? Being open for possibilities is the first step, and being fearless is the second step. What do you have to lose?

 

SueAnn Carpenter continues her pursuit of watercolor, especially portraits of pets. Recently she launched www.petwatercolorist.com.

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