Every morning, before anyone else is awake, I get up and go outside — by myself — for 45 minutes. Not with my kids. Not with the dogs. I love them all, but there is nothing relaxing about walking two kids and two dogs at the same time, and this particular 45 minutes isn’t about them. It’s the only part of my day that belongs entirely to me.
It took me a long time to protect that time. Longer than it should have.
The Thing I Almost Missed
A while back, I started having anxiety attacks. Daily. And for longer than I want to admit, I told myself it was something else — stress, lack of sleep, too much on my plate. Anything but what it might actually be.
Here’s what stopped me: I realized that if this had been happening to Damon, or to one of my kids, we would have addressed it immediately. No hesitation. But when it was me, I put it on the back burner.
It’s the same thing NDNO talks about constantly with colorectal cancer symptoms — people explaining away the signs, assuming it’s something else, waiting. I was doing that to myself. Blaming it on stress instead of asking what if it isn’t.
So I booked an EKG. I started seeing a counselor. Not because something was catastrophically wrong — but because I couldn’t afford to find out later that it was, simply because I hadn’t checked.
Learning To Say No
The other thing that’s helped, just as much: saying no. No to another activity for the kids. No to the sleepover. No to volunteering for one more thing, even when I wanted to help. None of those are easy no’s. But I just can’t give more than I have — and pretending I can doesn’t serve anyone, least of all the people I’m trying to take care of.
Why I’m Telling You This
I’m not telling you this so you feel sorry for me. I’m telling you because I know I’m not the only caregiver who’s done this math wrong — treating my own health and my own time like the thing that can wait. Caregivers of young-onset colorectal cancer patients report high rates of emotional exhaustion, whether they’re providing care around the clock or from a distance, and most describe frequent sadness during this season. Those numbers exist because this is common. Not because it has to stay that way.
If you’re a caregiver reading this, you don’t need a dramatic reason to take your own health seriously — you just need to stop waiting for one. Your 45 minutes might look different than mine. Your no might be to something else entirely. But it counts just as much as anything you’re doing for the people you love. Take the walk. Book the appointment. Say the no. You’re allowed to be on your own list — and the people counting on you need you there.
Source: Colorectal Cancer Alliance, Never Too Young Survey Report (caregiver data); additional caregiver findings from a related 2021 Journal of Clinical Oncology abstract drawing on the same dataset.