Everyone Needs A Place....

So, here I was. I was in this new phase of my life, swimming in the 'in between'. I was newly diagnosed with Chronic Myeloid Leukemia, a slow growing blood and bone marrow cancer, waiting to start treatment, and getting partially ghosted by my medical team. I had taken my med class for my oncologist's recommended treatment and just needed to hear from the pharmacy once my insurance went through. It was taking a long time, and my nerves were getting frazzled more and more each day. Time was moving like bated breath, and it was getting stretched thin, uncomfortable, and needing to release. 

I was in a holding pattern and didn't know where to turn. A friend who had come with me the day of my diagnosis had fought and won her own battles, and some of her first advice was 'join Gilda's as soon as you can.' 

Gilda's Club as in the nonprofit in memory of Gilda Radner. These clubs offer a home-like environments that are supportive spaces where those impacted by cancer can connect, share, get emotional support, programming and workshops, and help to break down barriers to care. 

Really? I thought. Isn't that too soon? That's not really for me, is it?  But I'm not in chemo. You think I should?  I was reluctant, but I needed to turn somewhere and felt like a spinning top, trying to keep upright while everything around me blurred. I needed something to focus on.

Without even having started treatment yet I felt like a phony scheduling my new member orientation and tour online. But I'm not sick, was all I could think. I looked at the schedules and local locations online and started to feel the pressure of time release ever so slightly. Yoga, Reiki, art therapy, and tai chi on the water. Oh yes, I could really benefit from that right now. Blood cancer support group, oh, ok...I suppose that applies to me. 

Cancer-fighting smoothies, living with cancer group, farm to table dinners, fundraisers, so much community and support. Since having to close my yoga studio during Covid I had desperately been missing something so important in my life, community. I missed the deep-rootedness I felt in a circle of strong women. Holding space as I taught connectedness, sitting in a circle sharing stories and magic, falling deep into a meditative, group Shamanic journey. I have been uprooted for too long, and now my roots felt fully exposed and untethered. But I was willing to learn to grow in unfamiliar soil. 

It would be amazing to have a community again, although I had never thought I would be a part of this one, then again, who does? Although now I felt like an imposter in my own story, would I walk into this new world like a character in the wrong costume....would I not fit and wait for someone to tell me I was in the wrong play?

The visit to the Clubhouse was lovely. The old, Victorian house was nestled on a corner down a main road, quietly held in the trees that surrounded it.  Walking in I was comforted by the warm wood, architecture, and smiling faces. I met privately with the social worker, we sat on big, comfy couches, and she gave me the history of Gilda's. It included Gilda Radner' story and how Gene Wilder and her friends starting Gilda's Club in her memory based on her own experience with ovarian cancer. Gilda described cancer as being an elite member of a club she'd rather not be a member of, and to that end, everyone needs a place. So, Gilda's Club offered a haven of support, resilience, and community for those navigating similar challenges.

The tour offered insights and inspiration with large meeting and yoga rooms, a quaint library with resources and poetry, and a beautiful kitchen stocked with snacks, coffee and tea readily available. The old floors creaked with the sweet support it's offered hundreds of others over the years. I felt the thousands of fingertips along the worn, wooden banisters that were there before me. A tiny corner shelf held donations including homemade beanies and cooling pads, bookmarks, and art for anyone to take. But I still wasn't sure if I belonged there. 

A beautiful children's area painted floor to ceiling with a magical mural showed how one could easily be whisked away to another land. And Gilda was everywhere. Huge paintings of her and Gene, her and the cast of SNL, life-size cut outs and Gilda art. Her spirit was alive and well, serving millions of people love, support, and hope each and every day.

It was all beautiful, and it was the warm hug I didn't know I needed. It wasn't a club I wanted to be a member of, but I was glad that I was. 

I left with a list of classes suggested by the social worker, and felt like I had a good start. Later that day, I thumbed through a magazine I'd taken home called The Emotions of Cancer (I still feel weird saying that word, by the way); it had articles and poetry written by individuals with leukemia and blood cancers, reading them I immediately heard some of my own story, even this early in the journey. Ok, yes and yes again, I'm listening. I guess this is for me after all. I am in the play, but I still need to practice my lines, I'm not ready for the stage just yet. As I wrap my head around this new normal, I'm slow to start, but I know I'll ease into it more and more. 

I have already taken a self-care course where I met some other members, they all seemed nice and connected. They all looked like me, everyone had their hair, they were dressed nice, smiling, and no sense of sickness filled the air. We sat in the garden, created some therapeutic art, and I got some good tools and reminders of self-care to support me during this in between.

I decided to sign up for the blood cancer support group. I'm nervous about that first meeting (3 days away as I write), and later next week an Anxiety and Cancer class. The following week I'll start the wellness classes and utilize Gilda's as my haven pitstop either on my way home from work or as a retreat on a needed day off.

​But I'll just be in rehearsal for now.....and I look forward to meeting my new community. I know the connections and support with be monumental, and I can go to the clubhouse to sit in the library with some tea, hang out in the garden and find solace and peace or connection and a village. I'm sure in time I'll be a true player in my own right. 

I look forward to finding strength and courage to meet the challenges I'm already having so early on, navigating treatment, possible side effects, juggling appointments, work, and life, the fears, the unknown, as well as the uplifting and inspirational moments that will make me forget about myself for a while.

This is not the final chapter of my story, but merely a turning point. I don't know how the story will end, or what twists and turns it will take along the way. All I know is that I am going to do my best to build the most amazing plot with all of the supportive characters I need to help me laugh, cry, rest and fight. We are all searching for our place, and for now, I am happy this is part of mine. 

Learns more about Gilda's Club at ​Gilda's Club Detroit | Metro Detroit