Head Tilt #74: What kind of news did you receive today? (2 of 5)

Special note: On March 13, 1997, I was diagnosed with leukemia. During that time, I wrote a book titled Dancing with the Diagnosis, Steps for Taking the Lead When Facing Cancer. It was published a few years after the completion of my treatment. In honor of the 25th anniversary of the diagnosis, I am highlighting parts of the book and the lessons I learned in this five-part series. I hope the posts will encourage and maybe even inspire. I welcome comments and conversations! 

Excerpt from Chapter 1: Choose Your Words Wisely

We did not choose our health issues. We did not ask for our lives to be put on hold. We did not volunteer for repeated hospital visits. We did not choose to dance this dance! When we reluctantly start our dance with any diagnosis, decision-making feels out of reach, and control is seemingly lost. As we search to regain personal power, it is essential to first review and perhaps modify the words we choose. 

The cycle is significant: Our word choices shape the realities we see, and the realities we see shape the words we choose. Censoring the negative words that creep into our daily vocabulary is one way to exercise control of our word choice, and thus, our realities. 

For instance, I once told my mother that I dreaded Fridays -- my clinic days-- because I always seemed to get some sort of bad news from my doctors. For me, this was true. My reality was that clinic days equaled bad news days-- I had plenty of evidence to support this; I always seemed to learn something I would have rather not known on Fridays. 

Being the ever-wise woman that she is, my mom instantly picked up on my use of the word "bad." Why would anyone in their right mind look forward to a visit when they received something "bad" each time? 

From there on, she asked that I not use the word bad to describe any kind of news I received on Fridays. Instead, we would view news in three tiers: 

1. News that wasn't immediately favorable was viewed as mere information; we would simply refer to it as just plain "news." 😐

2. News of a more encouraging type (improved health, steady progress) would be labeled as "good news." 🙂

3. News that topped the others (no need to be admitted to the hospital, surprise improvements) would be called "AMAZING NEWS!" 🤩

After each Friday clinic visit, I would classify that day's news and report back to my mom. Eliminating all possibilities of "bad" news for my mind and allowing myself to choose between neutral and positive alternatives softened the edge of many appointments. What we say shapes what we see. ❤️

Original art from Dancing with the Diagnosis, 2003

Head Tilt #75: The Caregiver Contract (3 of 5)

Special note: On March 13, 1997, I was diagnosed with leukemia. During that time, I wrote a book titled Dancing with the Diagnosis, Steps for Taking the Lead When Facing Cancer. It was published a few years after the completion of my treatment. In honor of the 25th anniversary of the diagnosis, I am highlighting parts of the book and the lessons I learned in this five-part series. I hope the posts will encourage and maybe even inspire. I welcome comments and conversations! 

At the time of the leukemia diagnosis, I was in my last semester of graduate school, studying communication. I looked at everything through a lens of communication, and still do! I am an avid advocate for talking about talk. I love to declare intent, unravel conversations, and make expectations overt. 

Excerpt from Chapter 11: Create Clear Communication With Your Caregivers and Support People.

We are not the only ones who feel a loss of control when the diagnosis is cancer. Caregivers and support people go through their own feelings of anger, helplessness, and confusion. In a sense, they dance their own dance with the diagnosis. They want what's best for us, but often have trouble figuring out what that is and how to deliver it. Roles are reciprocal: sometimes they need our help as much as we need theirs. 

I wrote the Caregiver Contract with these thoughts in mind, to clarify needs and ease initial tensions. Used early on, it also establishes some healthy communication ground rules for you and your support team. The top portion provides basic guidelines for positive support. The bottom portion of the contract, our agreement- reminds us of our own commitment. This portion holds us accountable. We are active participants in all parts of our healing process. 

All guidelines were inspired by real experiences. I made copies and distributed them to my caregivers. And then we'd talk about it. Effective communication is something that happens between people. It's not a linear event. 

Caregiver Contract

1. Please don't be afraid of me. I am still the same person you've known and cared for; I just have a few new mountains to climb! 

2. Please smile when you see me. Frowns bring me down. 

3. Please ask me questions about my moods and feelings. It is not always correct to assume that I am sad, tired, mad, or depressed. At times I might be, but other times I am experiencing feelings o peace, happiness, and joy. Ask me how I feel and I'll tell you. 

4. Please stay positive. 

5. Please take very good care of yourself. You are extremely important to me. 

6. Please gently ask my permission before trying to shift my perspective. Sometimes I am just not ready to look at the brighter side. I know you don't like to see me feeling low, but I need to travel through all my emotions instead of ignoring them. I'll let you know when I am ready for a new perspective. 

7. Please don't ever give up! 

In turn, I agree that...

1. I will never give up.

2. I will be open and honest regarding my feelings (as soon as I know what they are).

3. I will be an active participant in my healing process. When agreed upon, I will follow my doctors' orders and I will maintain a healthy mental attitude. 

4. I will tell you my needs and attentively listen to yours. 

5. I will keep my sense of humor.

6. I will practice clear communication with you.

7. I will always appreciate your love and support.

Original art from Dancing with the Diagnosis,2003 

 

Head Tilt #72: Hills are hard

University of California Santa Cruz: Campus of Hills! 

True story:

On the eve before my last half marathon, I made the mistake of reading past participants’ reviews of the 13.1-mile course. A few commented that it was surprisingly hilly. 

“Oh no!” I thought. “Hills are hard!” 

I worried. 

For a minute.

And then I remembered, "Hey! I train on hills!"

Hills ARE hard. And I love them. They test my commitment and my character.

On a recent Hill Day in my workout rotation, I couldn’t help but think of how running hills prepares me for so many other challenges in my life. 

1. First, I can’t run hills successfully without a strategy.

I’ve learned from the best coaches and athletes: I look up, not down– I focus on the top (but glance at the terrain every now and then!). My form matters. Smaller steps, lift those knees. I let my arms lead my legs– it’s a body party with every step! I lean in, but ever so slightly– I stay perpendicular to the slant. Every single time. ☀️

2. Next, hills remind me that after pain comes great pleasure.

My lungs burn, my muscles ache, and when I get to the top of the hill I am rewarded with the pride that comes with accomplishing hard things. Every single time. ☀️

3. Finally, running hills tests my mind, strengthening my resolve. Often a fleeting, but loud thought tells me to stop, quit, or give up. It’s a test of my grit. As long as I don't need to stop because of legitimate concern, I counter that chatter with one of my go-to hill power words: GO!, PUSH!, or CLIMB! Every single time. ☀️

 

I love hills. They are hard, but they build my strength, speed, and stamina. 

As in life, doing the hard stuff prepares me-- and all of us-- for so much more. 

☀️ The next training contract I am trying to get? I can’t succeed without a strategy. 

☀️ That pain of persistence and rejection as I forge my own path in the work world?  It’s often followed by the great pleasure of gaining a new client or learning a valuable lesson.

☀️ That self-doubt that sits next to me when things get tough? It is only quieted by my resolve to persist. 

I got this. You got this. We got this. ❤️

GO!

PUSH!

CLIMB!

Every single time. ☀️

Head Tilt #71: The art of tact

Me, admiring The Russian Bride's Attire by Makovsky

After visiting the Legion of Honor museum in San Francisco recently, my son airdropped this photo (above) to my iphone.

I had no idea he’d taken it.

 

At the time, I was captivated by that specific painting. Not only is it a beautiful work of art, but I also marveled at the many stories told within the brushstrokes.

 

Unbeknownst to me, Brendan captured that moment with a quick click of his camera. When I saw the image, I was touched that he did. 🥰

 

On our drive home I asked with a smile, “What prompted you to take that picture of me?”

 

He replied plainly, “I wanted a picture of the painting, and you were in the way.”

 

😳

Ah, out of the mouths of babes…

 

(I laughed so hard!)

 

Bren scored an A+ for honesty.

 

But I’m going to work with him on his tact. 😆

 

Tact marries honesty with kindness. There was little need for too much tact in the illustration above, but difficult conversations such as giving feedback or addressing conflict all benefit from a hefty dose of it. 

Tact is a pillar of effective communication.

 

Here are a few tips to help master the art of tact in difficult conversations.

 

1. Pause. The kindful communication I preach starts with a pause. Take a breath and give yourself some space between stimulus and response. If someone asks a question (stimulus), pause before answering (response). That mindful moment illuminates your communication options. Choose the kindest one for the situation. No artificial sweetener necessary—choose the response that maintains the truth and doesn’t cause pain or embarrassment to the person involved.

 

2. If starting a difficult conversation, declare your intent. I talk more about it here, but essentially, get crystal clear on the outcome you seek, and announce it. For example,

 

“I’d like to talk about your Q4 performance and strategize ways to improve.”

 

“I want to discuss how we handled the most recent conflict. I know we can do better and I want to try.”

 

3. Claim your subjectivity and be specific. Instead of saying, “Some of your ideas are better than others” say “For me, some of your ideas resonate more than others.” Instead of, “Your presentation bombed,” say, “From my perspective, the presentation lacked a call to action.”*

*Bonus points for throwing the conversational ball back and asking, “What do you think?”

 

4. Eliminate any sense of anger, accusation, and sarcasm from your tone, word choice, and nonverbals. This is easier said/read than done. Be a careful observer of your messaging—how it looks, sounds, and how it might be interpreted.

 

5. And finally, though maybe most importantly, empathize. What's going on for the recipient of your message? How might they feel? It doesn’t really matter how you would feel if you were them—empathy is about them, not you. Remember the Platinum Rule: Treat others as they want to be treated.

Tact: It's a timeless form of communicative art. 🎨 🖌