Mourning the Loss of a Dream Life
Choking down a bitter brew of Chinese herbs, I start this newsletter.
Many of my patients seek treatment because they feel stuck—unable to move past challenging experiences from their past. Research indicates that most people would not choose to relive their childhood or adolescence if given the chance. They often say life improves as time goes on. My father, a Holocaust survivor, used to say that while the beginning of his life was tough, 'God certainly made up for it later.'
This has never been my experience. Throughout my childhood, I always knew I had it good. Our home was a place of warmth and celebration, with an open door and open hearts. Social insecurities never crossed my mind. At 15, when I left for Israel, my friends threw me a surprise party. We all wept as Cat Stevens' "Wild World" played, a poignant soundtrack to the moment.
My mom even boarded the plane with me to say goodbye—back when that was still allowed. I told her I'd give anything to stay, but I had to go. Amid the turbulence of adolescence, I spent that year living on a kibbutz, and life felt like it was clicking into place.
When my stint as a travel agent didn’t pan out (I was terrible at it), I shifted to becoming a sex therapist. That was a surprise, but it was nothing compared to the shock I gave my parents when I decided to go to medical school. My partner and I met in pre-med at Hunter College. We built a remarkable family, and life was good.
Fast forward to when I first faced lung cancer at 49, when my youngest child was only 8 years old. It was a nightmare, and it truly took a village to get through it. But we did. I kept on living for 17 years, until it returned with a vengeance last year.
Western medicine has little to offer me now, hence the consumption of nasty Chinese herbs prescribed by a highly respected Doctor of Chinese medicine. I have to be open to any ways to attack this thing - if I want to try to make it to two more weddings and welcome another grandchild. Becoming a grandparent shifted my entire outlook on life. It made me yearn to live forever, to be there for every moment.
In addition to exploring Chinese medicine, I am also taking a Dynamic Neural Retraining System class, thanks to my son. This program is designed to reverse impairments in the brain’s limbic system and manage maladaptive stress responses. It’s a tough journey, and I’m unsure of its effectiveness just yet. Guided imagery, a technique known for aiding healing and trauma recovery, is particularly challenging. It often takes years to master, but I’m diving into a crash course. It’s something that could benefit everyone, though it requires real dedication.
Right now, I’m not living my best life. I could easily blame the country and its government. Israel is at war, and the constant stream of breaking news fills us with fear and uncertainty. This isn’t the Israel I once knew, and I find myself questioning if this was the right place to come for healing. This clip from “Fiddler on the Roof” comes to mind.
But then I know that cancer is cruel no matter where you are. It steals more than just time—it takes away my joie de vivre. I search for it in even the smallest moments. My daughter has been challenging me to post an Instagram story every day about something that made me smile. It’s her way of helping me find a glimmer of happiness amidst the darkness. Reposting memes is limited to once a week 🤨. Homegrown mini guava, french toast, my madras skirt and my daughter’s cat, Chai, made the cut.
Can I go back to being Ann? Please?
Graham Greene once said “when we are not sure, we are alive” suggesting that uncertainty and doubt are central to human existence. I will not encounter absolute truths and definitive answers. All I can do is remain curious.
When the universe demands a change in our way of thinking, we better listen. When I am uncertain about God, who do I turn to in prayer? So many questions.
‘til we meet again,
Dr. Anna 🎗️
My loving prayers and thoughts are always with you and your amazing family. Always.
Love you Anne. You are always in my prayers. Miss you so much.