On reading memoirs of cancer and divorce.

Because of this month’s theme, memento mori (“remember you must die”), I’ve been reading a lot of memoirs of catastrophe: divorce, accident, illness, and the like.

I’m not sure I agree with Tolstoy’s observation, “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,” but it’s true that each of the divorce memoirs I’ve read has described circumstances that are unique and compelling.

Illness memoirs, however, far outnumber those about divorce. I’ve read several cancer memoirs over the last few weeks, and still have many more to go. I dreaded this assignment, but now am fascinated by these accounts.

Research shows that because we measure ourselves relative to others, our happiness is influenced by whether we compare ourselves to people who are better off or worse off. In one study, people’s sense of life satisfaction changed dramatically depending on whether they completed sentences starting “I’m glad I’m not…” or instead, “I wish I were a…” Those making “downward comparisons” (“I’m glad I’m not…”) reported themselves to be much happier than those making upward comparisons.

I’ve discovered the truth of that. Reading about people grappling with terror, pain, and death—even lesser ills, like long waits in doctors’ offices and the indignities of medical procedures—has made me feel tremendously lucky.

Right now, I’m reading Michael Korda’s Man to Man, about his battle with prostate cancer. It has given me a new and intense appreciation for the simple ability to pee in the usual fashion.

Yesterday morning, I felt dejected because I’d re-gained a few pounds. But Korda’s experience made me feel far more kindly to my own body. Instead of feeling dissatisfied, I realize, I should delight in feeling young, vital, healthy, pain-free, fear-free.

That said, I don’t think these memoirs would cheer me if I’d had more brushes with serious illness; I don’t think I’d even be able to stand reading them. They paint a dismal picture.

The Big Man, for one, would never read these books. He’s suffered too many grim experiences in hospitals to want to visit voluntarily, even in imagination.

Childbirth is my only experience with hospitals, and giving birth, though it carries its own fears and discomforts, is thrilling. And although the Big Girl’s arrival was scary—she was induced early, at only 4 pounds, and stayed in Intensive Care for a week—these measures were precautionary; nothing actually went wrong.

I felt a bit guilty about my reaction to the memoirs. Isn’t it wrong to feel…reassured…by these sorrowful events? But I realized that this is exactly what these writers are trying to accomplish. Their common theme is: cherish your health! Appreciate your ordinary life! Other themes: keep up with your doctor’s appointments, don’t ignore big changes in your body, make sure you have good health insurance.

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I’m a big believer in clearing clutter. Cleaning a closet is a way to give yourself a boost of energy and serenity—an odd combination, it’s true—in just a few hours. A great source of clutter-clearing inspiration is the blog Neat Living. Today, for example, there's information about how to something with your precious souvenir T-shirts from twenty years ago besides keep them in a drawer.

Comments

[Autumn]

Ahh... since that's the kind of book I'm working on, I'm glad to hear your enjoying them...

Sometimes though, I'll admit, when I hear someone say that reading my blog or talking to me has made them apprciate how much they have, I sometimes wonder if they underestimate how much have too. I don't know... I suppose that's my issue, and maybe I'll write about it... but it's kind of sad when people say "I feel so lucky to have my health now" and all I want to do is be like, "yeah, must be nice." Being the one who's on the bottom of that comparison can at time be painful even if you are helping other people appreciate their lives.

Anyway, keep reading and appriciating what you've got. :)

[Chris Yeh]

Have you read Chasing Daylight as part of your series on death?

http://chrisyeh.blogspot.com/2006/03/wisdom-of-dying.html

[Monica Ricci]

I'm with The Big Man on this one. Having lost my mom just over two years ago to cancer, I don't want to read about illness and death. I had enough of that and the hospital images are still too clear. I am focusing on everything positive instead. ~Monica

[Ariane from NeatLiving.Net]

I totally agree with that happiness depends on who you compare yourself to. All I have to do is compare myself today with myself as a kid...I'm soooo much better off!!!

Whenever I start to get down, I compare my situation with people living in poverty, illness, war zones, unable to afford an education, etc. and I feel totally blesed to have the problems I have.

And sometimes, I compare myself to people who seem to have so much, but they are never satisfied with what they have...and I feel blessed for having suffered in my life...because I can truly appreciate what I have and not constantly need more.

Thanks for sharing! So are you going to have a t-shirt quilt made? : )

[Gretchen Rubin]

No T-shirt quilt for me--those t-shirts are long gone, with my zest for clearing clutter. (Of course, I have the shirts that I am "saving" but that's a different problem.)

Chris Yeh mentioned the book "Chasing Daylight." I just finished it, and it is an outstanding book. Extraordinarly thought-provoking. The CEO of KPMG discovers he has 3 months to live, and details what he did with that time.

[Geng]

Do you have some recommended books in the medical catastrophe genre? I've been reading physician memoirs lately and I'd like to get the patient perspective. Of course, if you have any physician memoir recommendations, I'll gladly take those too :) Thanks!

[Katie M]

found your blog googling "divorce memoir" just now. You mention that you've read many lately. Which do you recommend? Thanks!