Maximizing, A Guide
By Matthew Congdon
I'm a plagiarist. There, I've said it. I didn't come up with the term "maximizing," that was Dr. Lauren Kelly. It was after returning from another one of my world-weary, wonderful, over my budget excursions...yet I had this odd twinge of guilt. Here I was on the cliff of a terminal diagnosis, and I was living it up, I was devil may care, I was a rogue Rockefeller.
Why guilt, I thought? Was this a way of denying the inevitable? Maybe it’s because I wasn't using my limited time for more productive "legacy" things (whatever that meant). Maybe it was that any inheritance was flowing swiftly from family to the good people at American Express?
"Am I minimizing the fact that I'm dying?" I asked in one of our appointments.
"What? Not at all," She said. "I think it sounds the opposite. I think you're maximizing. You are completely aware of dying, and you're living life to the fullest."
Well, I thought, if a doctor is onboard – then maximize I will.
It's true, I have never ignored the whole dying part. Within two weeks of the diagnosis, I bought two cemetery plots. Yes, two plots – because I wanted the "business class of plots." C’mon, gimme some space. I started designing a headstone, well, a monument really, that would give the Albert Memorial a run for its mourning. I embraced death not in a morbid way but in a straightforward slightly OCD way.
I wanted to do this whole dying thing my way and have a blast while I could. I have Stage 4b Prostate Cancer...this allowed some death date leeway, but time was not my friend. So, I decided to make the moment my friend. In a way, I decided to make the cancer my friend. Or at least we would have a détente.
I do think it's important to point out that from when this podcast was recorded about 18 months ago...I have evolved and learned more. I'm going to plagiarize and paraphrase once more – it’s been the best of times and the worst of times.
“First of all, that whole “shock/ denial/ anger/ bargaining/ depression/ acceptance/ hope” thing? Bullsh*te. They can happen all at once, out of order, some more than others, some not at all. There is no playbook.”
Maximizing is how I decided to be stage four – and love it. Everything else out there is so. F*cking. Depressing. Or worse: battle focused. Now, if you’re stage 3, fine...battle away. But if you are terminal–it’s different. I told every doctor (and I went through many) that the words "Battle, Fight, and Journey" were verboten.
We are all going to die. Spending your time in and out of waiting rooms "fighting" with extra tests is not going to help.
Battle? Here’s a hint – you will lose this battle.
And journey!? Not to give you plot spoilers, but your journey is to the grave.
So, I put aside the maudlin books, soft spoken podcasts, and spiritual hullabaloo, and got on with LIVING. With MAXIMIZING.
Here's a few things that have helped me. Again, there's no playbook – especially with any terminal cancer. So you do you. Maximize your life and your death.
“Buckets are for kicking, not listing.”
1. The Luxe Life
I've always believed - buckets are for kicking, not listing. Now, I've been very lucky. My job as a fashion designer, specifically a “men's underwear guru” (GQ's words, not mine), has taken me all over the globe, from sea to sweaty pouched sea. So lots of these "bucket list" places I already saw.
When diagnosed, I never had the "but I never saw the Taj Mahal!" moment. I saw it. It sucked. But that's the point! Any "bucket list" thing will not automatically heal you. Machu Picchu? It’s fine, could do without the steps. The Pyramids? Don’t wear a blazer, avoid camels and junk hawkers.
Yet I love travel. And there were still places I wanted to see. But instead, think about those places that you are more “hmmm" about. Don’t focus on Transcendence, nirvana or whatever you want to call it. Let it happen in the oddest place. The silence of the ocean on a beautiful north Atlantic crossing on the QM2 – magical and restorative. I had no idea.
Get out there! And for god's sake, do it in style – you're dying, no need to look it.
Now I know that my listicle of some places that have been amazing are not what most call budget friendly – but neither is cancer. So just hear me out: I love beautiful hotels. You can be anyone you want, you can become more of who you are. These beautiful worlds with built in anonymity. Just to be part of the history at the Ritz in Paris is legacy. And you have the memories which is all we have at the end, right?
A coupe of veuve in the Lalique Bar at Claridge's is more filling than any bucket on any list. I was a 30's movie star, Ray Nobles orchestra in my head.
Morocco, well, Marrakesh. One of the first trips my (now husband) Ludo and I took together. Any man who would spend 7 nights in 6 different hotels is a keeper! The Oberoi is a must there. A palace set in an olive grove overlooking the Atlas Mountains. Beware though...that famous La Mamounia hotel (bucket list for many). An overpriced jalopy.
Miami was always a favourite quick getaway from NYC. But as a now Maximizer, the Faena hotel is perfection, with sand. Plush palms, plusher red velvet sofas. I could be Fred, Ginger, both. Begin that beguine.
Utrecht was one of those “who knew” places. A charming hotel called the Karl V my Dutch husband found that had tranquil gardens I found peace in. With a few local gin and tonics.
The Siam in Bangkok. I thought nothing could change my 1st love of the Peninsula there, and I still love that hotel, but The Siam was another level. Again, a surprise that became maximized merriment. If you want to feel like you stepped into White Lotus, this hotel makes those look like a Radisson in Toledo.
The Grand Hotel in Mackinac Island. This was very special to me. My 50th birthday, two years of cancer meds and radiation, and I wanted to celebrate in a place that meant something to me ever since childhood. It’s a Dorothy Draper fantasy land of design. I did use the cancer card here...which is a tricky thing and I try not to. But when it led to the best suite in the hotel and, well, memories that were maximizing beyond what I ever thought...the crazy price was moot.
“Knowing that you only have a short time to live and still deciding to pursue love, it’s challenges, it’s adventure – now that is Maximizing.”
2. Love Amongst the Ruins
Ok, I don't know much about this god thing. I was raised in waspy land where Christmas was about presents and watching how much eggnog my stepmother would siphon down. So, I've always been wishy-washy about kismet, fate, prayers, an animal from your birthyear dictating your future. Hullabaloo.
But the universe – it does work in mysterious ways. I think the best part of Maximizing has been this openness to being in the present. Monks on hilltops spend years trying to do this, but Terminal Cancer proved a quick ticket to mindfulness. It allowed me to "let go” – and out of the blue came my beautiful husband. Now, we had met a few years before, but my life was cluttered, unfocused. Death changed that.
Shortly after my diagnosis, he called me up saying he had just been thinking about me and how I was doing.
"Dying," I said, "how’s bout you?”
"Oh, I just had a major heart attack I'm recovering from," he answered blasély.
Well, as grandpa used to say – we were off to the races from that moment on.
Knowing that you only have a short time to live and still deciding to pursue love, it's challenges, it's adventure – now that is Maximizing.
And part of that adventure was that we would move to Fiji! Who says Stage 4 terminal people don't move to one of the most remote tropical islands? F*ck it, don’t pass up these kind of opportunities.
When we said in our vows we changed it to “in sickness and in sickness." And f*ck you for making me cliché – but, yeah, it was the best day of my life. A city hall wedding, a small cocktail party, a cake I proudly baked myself (croquembouche four feet tall) – even a honeymoon at the plaza. It was Maximizing and mesmerizing still.
The moral of this is that Terminal Cancer closes many doors but opens ones that are more meaningful. Don't be afraid to change your life just because death is telling you to.
“I have gained family I never knew were there all along.”
3. Showing Up: How Cancer Weeds the Field to The Real Friends
This was something that I have learned more and more since the podcast was taped. As someone who was staunchly independent, I had friends, yes, but very protective of my bubble. That needed to burst.
What has shocked me is who has shown up and who hasn't. Friends are tricky, families are a minefield – big surprise. But as part of Maximizing, I leaned into those that simply, just, showed up. I have gained so much in the past two and a half years.
That Luxe Life travel – it included a lot of boats. Yes, I love the ocean, but I never saw myself as someone on a cruise. I had to accept though, cruises offered a travel pace that was more my speed now. But it also offered so many new friendships. People who I had just met who genuinely care, who send me letters more than any immediate family member did.
I also found out who my longtime real friends were. The ones who could handle what was going on. Who got it when they saw the pics of my pretentious monument and called it "Matthew’s d*ck in a field." The other “friends,” let them fade away. Truth is you won’t notice.
The harder one, but the most rewarding is family. I have gained family I never knew were there all along. Cousins who would do anything for me. An Aunt and Uncle who have become the most supportive family I never thought I could have. All the time I wasted when I could have had them before – but that's not important. It's that they are here now. Making me feel ok to say I need a team, I need help – because, after all, Cancer is more fun when you Maximize together. My Maximize mug runneth over.
“I am dying. But I am also living. Maximizing is about learning to live the hell out of life while in that grey area.”
4. Maximizing Yourself: Maintain You
This is a tricky one. I'm a sarcastic, well dressed, humorously inappropriate, moderate prick. And I don't want that to change.
Early on, I saw so many people in waiting rooms, in chemo wards that made Dachau look like Disneyland, doing test after test still showing "hey, you're still dying." I was adamant that my Cancer, my death, was not going to define me.
It's easy, y'know, to become "cancer boy." It's a quick identity I saw many of these people easily slip into. It defined them. I know firsthand watching my father die of the same disease. All of a sudden, his wardrobe was "f*ck cancer" t-shirts and conversations only revolved around his latest PSA numbers.
Now the whole point of this Maximizing thing is about acceptance without absorption. I am dying. But I am also living. Maximizing is about learning to live the hell out of life while in that grey area. I still want to find the humor in it all, this great cosmic joke we’ve all been thrown into. I recently added an amendment to my will about specific items – if that 60’s portrait painting of my mom ends up in a Tennessee Cracker Barrel, “I will haunt you.” Yes, yes, I know I have no control over what happens when I’m dead. Straddling both life and death is not easy, but I’ll be damned (not literally, fingers crossed) to not laugh as much as I can while I can. I actually think that’s the maximizing I want most, I want more laughter.
I slept till noon yesterday because I can and because I need to now. My husband woke me up to kiss me goodbye, and all I could say was that his shirt choice of the day was a costume reject from Beetlejuice. And we laughed, and I was ready to face another day.