It’s mortifying to say “colorectal cancer.” Kate Bowler, in her beautiful memoir about surviving stage 4 colon cancer, describes it as - “the least sexy of cancers.” It was mortifying to agree to my best friend’s request to set up a meal train.
I am a completely open book. I’ve shared more embarrassing details about living with cancer than I care to think about. At the end of the day for me, it would’ve been too exhausting to remember who knows what.
I haven’t shared on LinkedIn, though. I wonder why? Maybe because it’s been a premature grave for me since my diagnosis? I don’t really give a shit about my career anymore? I do like my job and the work I do, but I don’t have that drive anymore. Or maybe it’s linked to the impostor syndrome - who in my professional network truly would care to read about my struggles? Even though my name and photo is plastered all over my Substack, there’s still _some_ anonymity. I’m not writing about my professional expertise.
My 5 year old niece asked me what a colon was yesterday. I told her it's an organ in your body that turns food into poop. then thought "wow I should really be more embarrassed about this than I have been"
My first coherent sentence after my diagnosis was a joke - “I always knew I had a killer ass” 😆 no need to be embarrassed! That stigma is what may cause someone to delay seeking medical care for their “embarrassing” rectal bleed!
It's the difference between showing ourselves wrapped in shiny plastic foil, seemingly pristine, flawless and artificial (while everyone KNOWS there is shit happening under the surface of that packaging), and showing our true, vulnerable, human selves. I am proud of you for being open about this. Work people will all go away, except for those that we connected with more deeply, as humans with stories. Hiding how we really feel is so exhausting. We need our energy for the important things, like healing and living. <3
I can’t decide if working from home nearly all the time is good or bad for this. On the one hand, I can have granular control over how I present to my coworkers - only what they see in tiny boxes on a screen. I can hide my face by turning off my video during a meeting. On the other hand, it’s much harder to build trust and make connections with your fellow human workers when you can’t see their body language after a stressful meeting or personal phone call. Every communication is monitored and mediated by tech - no walk around the block with your work wife to vent.
I’ve built trust and expressed vulnerability in both environments…so maybe it doesn’t matter.
I am a completely open book. I’ve shared more embarrassing details about living with cancer than I care to think about. At the end of the day for me, it would’ve been too exhausting to remember who knows what.
I haven’t shared on LinkedIn, though. I wonder why? Maybe because it’s been a premature grave for me since my diagnosis? I don’t really give a shit about my career anymore? I do like my job and the work I do, but I don’t have that drive anymore. Or maybe it’s linked to the impostor syndrome - who in my professional network truly would care to read about my struggles? Even though my name and photo is plastered all over my Substack, there’s still _some_ anonymity. I’m not writing about my professional expertise.
Sorry for the ramble! You made me think!
KFG,
Isabelle
My 5 year old niece asked me what a colon was yesterday. I told her it's an organ in your body that turns food into poop. then thought "wow I should really be more embarrassed about this than I have been"
My first coherent sentence after my diagnosis was a joke - “I always knew I had a killer ass” 😆 no need to be embarrassed! That stigma is what may cause someone to delay seeking medical care for their “embarrassing” rectal bleed!
Lololol. My daughter told all her friends I had “booty cancer” because she could remember the name.
It's the difference between showing ourselves wrapped in shiny plastic foil, seemingly pristine, flawless and artificial (while everyone KNOWS there is shit happening under the surface of that packaging), and showing our true, vulnerable, human selves. I am proud of you for being open about this. Work people will all go away, except for those that we connected with more deeply, as humans with stories. Hiding how we really feel is so exhausting. We need our energy for the important things, like healing and living. <3
Lolol I thought this said “shiny plastic OIL…” and it took on a whole
Diff meaning
🫶🏼
Head to toe goosebumps.
So beautiful 🍑💕
I can’t decide if working from home nearly all the time is good or bad for this. On the one hand, I can have granular control over how I present to my coworkers - only what they see in tiny boxes on a screen. I can hide my face by turning off my video during a meeting. On the other hand, it’s much harder to build trust and make connections with your fellow human workers when you can’t see their body language after a stressful meeting or personal phone call. Every communication is monitored and mediated by tech - no walk around the block with your work wife to vent.
I’ve built trust and expressed vulnerability in both environments…so maybe it doesn’t matter.
In person matters so much. But then there’s the commute and having to shower and everything. I am not sure either.
vulnerability = humility = serenity
get it, girl.
🤍🤍🤍🤍