How to Cope with a Cancer Diagnosis, and Why not throw in a Global Pandemic too?
The world feels as if it is imploding right now with the rapid spread of the coronavirus. Globally, people are social distancing, hunkering down, sanitizing everything in their path, and dealing with crippling anxiety over health and economic uncertainty. Everything feels so out of control.
I am feeling all of the emotions surrounding this pandemic, and they are already very familiar to me.
Five years ago on this day, I woke up from an 8 hour surgery. My brain (which was very drugged at the time) remembers a nurse trying to wake me up out of anesthesia. I remember her asking me how I was feeling as I tried to open my eyes. I remember a searing sensation in my abdomen. Despite a sore throat from being intubated, I managed to squeak out my first waking word... “pain”.
I was rolled into my hospital room where my husband was waiting for me, a forced smile on his face, most likely to mask his own mounting anxiety. The first question I could muster to ask him was, “Was it cancer?”
My husband was tasked with being the first person to confirm that I did, indeed, have ovarian cancer.
Sad, and laid out in pain
Fast forward over the past five years- there have been many peaks and valleys. My body eventually started a long recovery process (still is recovering, 5 years later), but not before being dosed with Chernobyl levels of chemotherapy and all of the needles, bruises, stitches, staples, scars and pills that you can imagine. Oh, and I should also mention the beautiful friends and peers who I’ve had to bury because of this awful disease.
March 17th, St. Paddy’s Day, is a very loaded day for this Irish girl. It conjures up the most painful time in my life, physically, mentally and emotionally. It’s massive trauma, wearing a green shirt. March 17th is the day that I was officially diagnosed with one of the deadliest, highest recurring, underfunded cancers that a woman can get, and thrust into a completely new life experience. It is a day that represents both a death and a rebirth for me.
Since my diagnosis in 2015, I’ve tried to honor this day by only doing “life affirming” things. On this day In past years, I’ve camped in Joshua Tree National Park, waking up at daybreak to coyotes howling outside of my tent. I’ve taken long walks on isolated beaches in the Pacific Northwest with close friends- those who know how loaded this day is- who let me feel the grief without offering platitudes. I’ve hiked in solitude to allow myself the space to cry by rivers, watching hawks and eagles circle above me. Nature is my church, where I feel closest to the Source- it is my solace.
Which is why this day on my 5 year “cancerversary” (a very big deal in the worlds of ovarian cancer survivors, as most of us aren’t statistically meant to see this day) it is particularly hard for me. I had planned a trip to the Azores- beautiful Portuguese Islands high on my “bucket list” -a land rife with waterfalls, dramatic ocean cliffside hiking trails, wild flowers, lush green landscapes and geothermal pools to soak in. I had even booked a boat trip to swim in the open ocean to observe dolphins, an experience that would have definitely pushed me out of my comfort zone, but am sure would also have amazed me. This trip was supposed to be my nature mecca.
Post surgery healing, pre chemo anxiety
And then the world seemingly collapsed and my planned trip turned to dust. I know, in the big picture, that mine is a good “problem” to have. Right now, my friends and family are healthy and safe. I have a well stocked pantry and plenty of ways to keep myself occupied. I’ve been getting outside as much as possible into the beautiful, wooded trails that surround my neighborhood. My dog LOVES that I’m home, and all of the hiking that we’ve been doing. Right now, I still have a job, running water, food in my refrigerator, a roof over my head. I’ve got it good. This Irish gal is lucky. And grateful.
And yet, I’ll be honest- all of this still stings. I’m allowing myself time to wallow in my self pity, but for only a short time. I won’t allow myself to get stuck in the negativity. There’s too much life to experience, even if it’s only from my couch right now.
If you are a cancer survivor, a lot of this pandemic chaos probably feels remotely familiar. Anxiety over health and uncertainty, financial woes, the spreading of misinformation, the fear of impending viral doom- these emotions can be triggering and send us over the PTSD cliff. I’ve already had a few meltdowns.
If you haven’t had a major health crisis in your life yet, you’re getting a taste of the emotional world of those of us who’ve dealt or are dealing with cancer. Here are some coping tools and mindsets that have helped me get through my own personal health crisis.
1) Meditation
Seriously, if you don’t practice meditation, I highly suggest that you start today. Sitting in silence (or as quiet as you can get) for only 10 minutes each day will give you an enormous emotional ROI (Return On Investment). Don’t worry about trying to clear your mind. Just sit and try to observe what your thoughts are, without judgement. Most days that I meditate, I get 9 minutes in and realize, “Wow. My brain is all over the place today.”
Think of meditation like this- You are sitting at a sushi boat restaurant. The sushi that comes around represents your thoughts. Many people mindlessly consume every piece of sushi that comes by- even the gross gas station sushi.
As I’ve developed my practice, I’ve come to realize that I can’t stop my brain from thinking every thought, but I can select the thoughts that serve me (i.e. choose the delicious, fresh dragon rolls, and not gross gas station sushi).
Make it a daily practice to only devour the best sushi.
2) Radical Acceptance
I’m not saying that you have to LIKE the situation that is unfolding, but I am saying that you have to accept what is unfolding, and move forward from there. I’ve learned (and keep learning) that our biggest pain points come from wanting the world to be how we want it to be, and not what it simply IS. Take the space to grieve the loss/lack of control, but then take a breath (or seven) and focus on how to move forward from where you actually are. The only way out of this is through this. Together.
3) Learn How to Give and Accept Help
No one lives in a vacuum. We all rely on each other. We need the farmers, doctors, artists, bankers, teachers, janitors, seniors, children, etc. This should be apparent right now. The health of someone half the world over does in fact affect you and me, so it would behoove us to give a shit about the pain and suffering in the world, and work together to find solutions to alleviate what we can. We are resilient beings, but we all need help sometimes. Be part of the solution, and know that asking for help gives other people the opportunity to feel useful. Asking and accepting help is humbling for our egos. As Ram Dass has said, “We are all just walking each other home.”
Gotta laugh to keep from crying, right?
4) Respond, Don’t React
This is another way of just saying that there is grace in the pause. Don’t panic. It truly sucks right now, but I am a living testament that the situation at hand can get better. Give yourself the time and space to assess what’s happening. This means don’t hoard essential goods, be kind to your friends, family and colleagues who are also experiencing enormous stress. The best leaders know how to take a pause, tune in, collect themselves and then make decisions- aim to be that leader.
5) Understand That You Are Not in Control
We all love to think that we have full control over what happens in our lives, but the reality is that we have very little control. Have you ever tried to stop a wave from breaking? Newsflash: the only thing that we have control over is how we decide to respond to anything that life hands to us. Ask yourself who is the type of person that you want to be in the face of adversity? Now’s your opportunity to step up to become that person. Inspire other people to step into their best selves, especially when shit hits the fan- kindness is as contagious as this virus. Figure out how to surf this wave. And spread kindness (but first wash your hands).
6) Move your body
Get moving. Get your heart rate up, sweat it out. Practice yoga, go for a run or walk (if possible), lift some weights, do some push ups, dance it out, whatever suits you. While you’re at it, feed your body wholesome food. That mind/body connection is powerful stuff- don’t wait until your mind is ready to get exercise. Move your body and your mind will follow. It’s a symbiotic relationship- it’s good for your body, but more importantly, it’s essential for your mental health.
7) Get some fresh air, if possible
If you can get outside, do it. Don’t wait for perfect weather, just put on some good gear and get outside to look at some trees, flowers, clouds, birds, etc. Ponder mother nature. Respect mother nature. Take a page from the Scandinavian playbook when they say that there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad gear.
If you can’t get outside, let as much natural light in through the windows. Take this opportunity to clean up the clutter both in your homes and in your minds.
8) Plan for the Future
Last, but not least- practice gratitude and start writing down your plans for the future when this pandemic is behind us and is but a distant memory. We all need something to look forward to, so you might as well dream big.
These are very trying times, guys. Take care of yourself the best that you can so that you can take care of your loved ones. You can’t help anyone else unless your own oxygen mask is secured.
Now go wash your hands again.