Progress not Results

“You have to do a reset,” I told my wonderful 65 year-old cousin, Brook, who is recovering from Pancreatic cancer surgery. 

Brook was lucky that his cancer was operable.  He (like Steve Jobs, and Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg) had a Pancreaticoduodenectomy (Whipple procedure). The surgery is a tough one, taking place deep in the gut.  His surgeon removed a neuroendocrine tumor, as well as part of the pancreas, and parts of nearby structures including the small intestine, bile duct, gallbladder, and the stomach.  Then everything had to be attached and reattached.

There were complications after the initial surgery including leaking from the various connections among organs that the surgeon made, bleeding and an infection. His doctor did a second surgery to address these issues.

So now, Brook, a very active and fit guy, is knocked on his ass big time. He says he has no energy, and he’s having a hard time eating (he’s lost 15 pounds of weight that he didn’t really have on his body in the first place). He is struggling to readjust to his day-to-day reality. He gets depressed and impatient with himself.  He just wants to be back to his 100%.

I reminded him that he can’t view and measure where he is at in the same way.  He needs to give himself at least 9 months to come back; and during this time, he needs to be assessing the delta between where he is today, and where he is tomorrow (or where he was last week and where he is today). He must embrace the progress, not the result (his idea of 100%).  There may be setbacks and breakthroughs along the way.  And he’s going to have to adjust his expectations around these as well.

I gave him the analogy of how teachers and schools are evaluated by the test results of the students.  This is completely the wrong model for assessment.  Rather than measuring the results of test scores, what should be measured is the progress each student has made during the year.   Brook recently retired from being a Community College Administrator and prior to that was a Guidance Counselor for many years. So he knows what I’m talking about and agrees.

The healing intent of the body is real. It needs to be accepted and worked with, not against.  It takes a whole lot of energy to heal. 

Brook told me that he had walked 1.6 miles on the treadmill the day I spoke with him about all this. He was arguing with his wife Nina, the consummate hiker (she can do 20 miles a day without batting a eye), about not wanting to take a nap, even though he needed one.

“Brook,” I said. “Celebrate that 1.6 miles. And as a reward, give yourself that nap.”