The New Abnormal

Those diagnosed with any form of cancer immediately are thrust into a world known as “the new normal.”

It is anything but normal.

“The new abnormal” would be a better name.

Normal will never happen again for me. My reality of attempting some form of normal for the last seven years doesn’t mean life is normal for me. It means I’ve learned how to exist in crazy. Maybe I should refer to present-day life as my old crazy because I’ve existed this way for so long. The new normal phrase has always rubbed me the wrong way because normal was ripped away and replaced with nothing of the sort.

Is calling what I do the new normal supposed to somehow make me feel normal? It doesn’t. Instead, it makes me feel like I can’t even do the new normal normally. Is it meant to make me or others feel better? It doesn’t make me feel better. I’m not sure if it makes others feel better. It potentially minimalizes what I do in the eyes of others. It invalidates my struggles in what really is abnormal because of the language that this is the norm.

The new abnormal is a topsy-turvy world of back and forth. It’s a world of opposites. I have felt wonderful and miserable.

I’ve gained and lost weight even though my level of exercise has remained about the same.

I’ve had my share of down days plagued with fatigue and others with more steroid induced energy than I know what to do with.

I’ve had no appetite and other times where I’ve eaten everything in sight.

Diarrhea. Constipation. One word sentences here are fine.

The medical world is a potpourri of repeating abnormalities. There are more one word or near one word sentences coming.

Labs. Office visits. Treatments. Side effects. Repeat.

Scans. Anxiety. Regrouping. Repeat.

I call insurance companies and billing departments far more often than is necessary. I rarely did when my life was supposedly normal.

I’ve gotten to feel at home with nausea. Ondansetron works well for me when it hits.

I’ve gotten to feel at home with many other drugs and supplements. I know what works for me and what doesn’t. I know my body well. I think I have finally broken through and convinced my team NOT to give me one particular drug used during MRIs that causes a worsening reaction. Every office visit begins with a review of my long list of medications.

How is any of that normal whether it’s the new routine or not?

In between all of this complete abnormalness are all the attempts to squeeze in any normal moments that are possible. ME time. I exercise and plan activities I enjoy that will keep me moving. Time with family and friends fill in normal moments. Football season has started. Go Badgers! Special occasions are sprinkled into my schedule when possible. There still is meaningful work that matters to me. Whereas my schedule had always been fairly rigid, I love the flexibility I now have. Being able to focus on purposeful work has been one part of my new abnormal that feels pretty close to my old normal.

The only constants are change and the need to live in the moment. Cancer has taught me lessons in change repeatedly. I am more present. It’s why I like #NotTodayCancer so well because I can be pretty definite about certain things as I go through my day.

The new normal is not the right term for how I live. Life is abnormal. Calling my life permanently abnormal is the best fit.

What even is normal?

Author: Kristie Konsoer

I am a breast cancer survivor, living well with MBC since 2012. This blog is a place where I can share thoughts and ideas on how I feel perceptions on cancer must change, and how I am finding a way to live with strength, hope, meaning, resiliency, humor, and hopefully a little wisdom, all while living with what I call a Stage V lifestyle. For me, there is no Stage IV. I am Stage V. I am powerful, I am well, and I am relentless.

8 thoughts on “The New Abnormal”

  1. Couldn’t agree more. I’ve used that phrase so many times when comforting others regarding my health. How odd that is, that we feel the need to normalize our abnormal life with cancer for others. Our lives with cancer are so far from a new normal it’s comic!
    Well said. Have a beautiful Sunday and here’s hoping for more “normal” days. ❤️

    Like

    1. A lot is asked of us. I believe you are right that a lot of the “normal” talk stems from a need to comfort others and perhaps even ourselves. It’s possible to still do this in a loving way and acknowledge life is not normal. Have a wonderful day.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Will normal really describe a life upended and held by our feet until the last cent falls out of our pockets? Until insurance non-doctors decide if something is medically necessary? Until juicing cures me? Or keto? Or electricity? Or freezing or heating my body?
    No none of this shit is normal except that I get to intermingle and find support and comfort in getting to know like minded people of above average intelligence like you – and if that’s part of my today’s world then that’s one of the few new parts I find amazing. Too bad we had to meet under such circumstances as metastatic breast cancer.
    🤗
    Ilene

    Like

    1. Normal is a trigger word, perhaps amplified by all the awareness we encounter around every bend. Meeting people like you has given me support, comfort, and the push to keep advocating for a better abnormal. Keep up the good work.

      Liked by 1 person

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