The Family Christmas Newsletter (if you do one): mention your PCa progress, or not?

Some families are in the habit of sending out around Christmas or the end of the year a kind of newsletter to their relatives, in which they recount all the goings on and events that have occurred in the family during the past year.

Usually, these family newsletters have announcements that are on the positive side, such as

Tom got a promotion at work, and is now chief supervisor at the plant. Mary got an award for best Avon saleslady in the district. Billy was accepted at Harvard and will be starting next year. And Judy made Head Cheerleader at school.

But even if you don't do one of these yourself, you have possibly been sent one of these kinds of things at one time or another, or else you are aware that they do exist for some families.

As is the case with the above example, usually they are pretty positive. But what if one of the lines included was

Oh, and Tom's PSA came in at .01 again, hurray for Tom!

Appropriate to mention in such a family newsletter ? Inappropriate?

Even if your family doesn't do this kind of thing, hypothetically would you want to bring your relatives up to date by including this kind of information, if you did send one out? Or maybe you would prefer to make it more generic and leave it at that? Such as

We're all doing well healthwise, Tom in particular, and we hope that keeps up!

I guess the answer is it depends on the particular family, with some families being of the plainspoken sort, who feel that all family events of the past year, including progress with an illness, are worth bringing up, while other families would choose to be a bit more discreet in such matters.

Of course this gets into the whole broader picture of whether or not to bring up the subject of the beast at family gatherings, parties, etc, at all. In my own case, no one has ever during the past several years broached the fact with me at a family get-together that I had and have been treated for PCa, although I knew they were aware of it, nor have I ever brought it up myself.

But that's okay. For some people it's a downer to talk about it, or maybe they think that I'm the one who would be distressed about discussing it. (Not true, for me it would be another opportunity to spread the word about it to others, and increase awareness).

But how about you? Do you think the mention of Tom's PSA result in the family Christmas newsletter, along with all the other family accomplishments, achievements, etc., of the year is appropriate, or "tacky?"

Interesting question. We do a Xmas letter about every other year. In the year after my PCa treatment we did mention that I had been successfully treated for prostate cancer and was doing great. In subsequent letters we have not specifically mentioned the cancer but have referenced our health in general which, fortunately, is good.

Interestingly, as a consequence of my first mention of this in the Xmas letter I had two different male friends call me and discuss their situations. It turned out both also ended up with PCa and were ultimately successfully treated. They were both at the beginning of their journey and felt appreciative of the opportunity to talk things over with me since I had "been through it".

Jim

Jim - I'm sort of on your wavelength. I have only mentioned my situation to a few very close colleagues at work (two of whom are also PCa susvivors), and my closest family. The rest of our social circle is unaware of the situation, and they will only be made aware if there is something important to share. The fact that I have/had PCa and that I have been (we hope successfully) treated does not need to be shared beyond this site and those already "in the know."

I wouldn't refuse to discuss it, but I don't go around advertising it . . . yet. Once I have some results back from my post-treatment PSA readings, I may change my mind and begin sharing, in order to raise the awareness of others I meet. For me, it is just too soon.

One upside of including mention of pCa (when there is news) is that it makes cancer less hidden & private, causing others to be more open & relaxed with their news. For me it's led to friends talking more easily with me about their diagnosis / treatment / fears.

Another angle on this - when I read Civil War correspondence I notice how much attention is given to the news of everyone's health. Those were times of greater risk of sudden illness and death, and people wrote openly.

YMMV -
Wilderness.

celebrate life said...
I think there is a real difference between men and women when it comes to discussing cancer. Women discuss the status of their female cancers so openly, but men seem reluctant to do so. I am curious as to whether or not Gary's cousin will talk to me about his PCa at the annual Christmas eve gathering. His father refuses to discuss with me anything about his PCa. Even though they know I have been educating myself about all things PCa. I think this is part of the reason men don't have enough knowledge about testing and what it means to have a high PSA. As far as the family Christmas letter goes, I do include brief updates. But our situation is very different from most.
Beth

That's a great point. In parallel, do women say anything about their breast cancer in a Christmas newsletter, I wonder?

Women in general are far more open about health issues, especially with other women. Perhaps their historically more domestic, nurturing, family-building orientation helps with that. Men's brains have been more historically oriented to hunting, providing, strong, individual activities. Men can't discuss weaknesses, since the other men in the tribe would pounce on them and take their stuff. This is obviously overstating the nuances we have, but the simple foundation blocks do tend to shape the structure built upon them.

The other piece of this is that prostate cancer is kind of "icky". The prostate? I have one? It does what? Ewww.

Everybody loves boobies! Everyone knows what they are. Everyone wants to protect women, feel sad when facing a disfiguring treatment. Of course. They're visibly a big part of femininity.

The prostate? Invisible, and nobody looks at them on the internet. PCa is hard to explain. The treatments too, and things like chemical or surgical castration are just incomprehensible, unbelievable, and obviously not something one says, even though all too many of us are subjected to it. Men never talk about their anatomy, not that, anywhere, any time (well, except sometimes for the one visible part that gets publicity in certain contexts). Most of us are only dimly aware the prostate even exists, and don't know where it is or what it does. Yes, seriously.

Finally, prostate cancer mostly affects old guys. Generally, if an old guy dies everybody but him wins. He stops drawing retirement pension (company wins), stops using health services (insurance wins), stops drawing social security (government wins), family receives life insurance (family wins), so what's not to like? Our culture doesn't value age or wisdom. So, as Scrooge says of the orphans, "“If they would rather die,” said Scrooge, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”—from Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol

Personally, in a Christmas letter, I like the simple mention of doing well with one's health, or starting a new treatment plan, or whatever. By the general update nature of such a letter, it doesn't need details. Those who would be interested to that level probably already know through other contact.

Every few years I do a Christmas letter, but mostly it is a humorous look back at the year.

PC isn't funny, so it's never made it into my letters.

Andrew

Celebrate Life,

A bunch of girlfriends and I went out to dinner last night to celebrate the birthday of a lady who is also battling breast cancer. She has just finished chemo and RT and will continue on Herceptin for a year. She is a beautiful lady, who is very particular about her appearance. She has worn a wig, which looked exactly like her normal hairstyle throughout. Most people in our office were unaware she had lost her hair. Even her husband has not been allowed to see her bald head. The topic of her cancer treatment came up, serious at first, then it got silly. At the end, she took out her phone and showed us all a selfie of her...sans hair. She was breath-taking. Then we went on to talk about fake boobies and whether or not they could put them up under her chin like when she was young.

The point is, could you imagine men sitting around and giggling about chemical castration, or any of the other awful side effects of PCa treatment?

Women simply have a different take on things. I think being able to laugh about something like this takes some of the horror out of it. At least for a while.

Donna

While I do not do XMAS letters, if I did, I would certainly include my PC story. I have taken an approach at the very end of the communicative spectrum, telling anybody who might be interested whatever they want to know. There are many benefits to this--I never have the stress of trying to remember who I have told what or whether I should tell someone something, some men who I have talked to may know that it is important to get checked out themselves (and one good friend had a PC diagnosis after getting checked out), some people who may not have much experience with cancer patients can see me as a happy, functioning human being just getting along with life like everybody else.

We also keep a Facebook group of people who want to follow my case and that gets updates every quarter or so. That has turned out to be a successful and efficient way to keep more distant acquaintances (of me any other family members) who are generally interested informed. Selfishly, on those days when things aren't going so great for me, I can always look back at that and be stunned how caring and compassionate people can be. It is faith-restoring for me.

I have gotten over the feeling of being so open as being equivalent to "playing the C card". I find that strangers are predominantly interested and good in nature. I don't look for opportunities to advocate, but I don't shy away either. Just today, I mentioned it to my mom's new hospice care chaplain who said she would include me in her prayer list. And as I was trying to schedule a telephone installation, the rep was able to be very helpful in working with my schedule, even waving the install fee. And the cable TV technician I was dealing with on the telephone was quick to send me a new receiver to try out when I said that bending down to do more testing was not easy for me. I don't ask for or expect special treatment, but I know that it makes people, even strangers, feel better when they can help out in some small ways. So while it is perfectly fine that my approach of foregoing privacy may not mesh with other patient's attitudes, I have no regrets for this openness.

Jack, You make some good points for the two extremes of the spectrum. Yes, there are cases that are diagnosed as cancer but that may really not warrant aggressive treatment. And yes, there are cases that are very aggressive and that need immediate aggressive treatment.

BUT. . . there are a great many more of us who are in the middle. We have cancer that is serious enough to warrant treatment, but it is not so serious as to pose an immediate threat to life. We also feel all of the emotions that go with a cancer diagnosis, its treatment and ongoing case management.

I'll agree with your assessment that "it depends," but please don't marginalize or leave out those of us in the densely populated middle spectrum of the disease population.

I don't mention my cancer in my holiday newsletter. Generally I only mention things medical by way of explanation when a player leaves the stage, and sometimes not even then. My father passed away this past summer, for instance, and my newsletter mentions the event but not the cause. And, to be honest, I keep my PCa information fairly close to my vest. Family member generally know, of course, as do close friends, but I try not to mention it in public venues where I don't have some expectation of anonymity. (My name isn't Peter, by the way.) I work in an industry where, from time to time, one finds oneself out beating the bushes for employment and I don't want prospective employers to be presented with my medical history before I get a chance to dazzle them with my brilliant smile and my vast erudition.

Mel: Bragging about the accomplishments of one's children and grandchildren is one of the few pleasures that prostate cancer can't take away. You might think that such bragging is a rather undemocratic affair -- something only available to a small elite with unusually accomplished descendants -- but my experience suggests the opposite. People are amazingly flexible in terms of the standards for what constitutes excellence where their grandchildren are concerned. I write a Christmas newsletter every year and I brag unashamedly about my children (an art director at an ad agency and an emergency medicine physician) and about my alarmingly-smart grandchildren. I do this bragging secure in the knowledge that my correspondents will simply skim those parts of my letter -- thinking "Yes, yes, fine... He thinks is grandchildren are clever... Where was I, oh yes, there..." -- pretty much the same way I skip over those parts of their newsletters. I am always glad to open a card from a friend or family member that contains a long and tedious newsletter. It means that they are OK, busy doing those normal activities that keep them reasonably happy -- things like writing a Holiday Newsletter.

I generally put my Christmas card insert letter up online for friends who don't receive a paper copy through the mail, and for those too eager to read it to wait for the postman to deliver their card. If you would like a link to this year's newsletter (and to be introduced to the select cadre who know PeterDisAbelard's secret identity) just click the envelope icon to the left of this comment to send me an email.

Mel,

For better or worse none of us ever really deserve our children so one need not feel immodest.

Peter never lies to you. He just admitted he's not me, didn't he?

I, also, will never lie to you. Just ask me about Peter in person and I'll tell you freely. But, of course, you have to find me to ask and Peter won't tell.