Don’t Let a Cancer Diagnosis (or Life-Disrupter) Define You
People may differ on the role of the mind in healing, but one thing is clear, we can choose life-affirming or life-denying responses to our disrupters. Are you active or passive, scrappy or docile, a resistance fighter or a compliant civilian?
I sit across the table from my kind oncological surgeon reading the surgical report. My eyes bump against the formidable size of the tumors and infected lymph nodes. I’m befuddled at this recurrence, possibly new cancer, and how the disease hides for years behind mammograms and doctor visits. Every December, I make a special visit to an OBGYN doctor for extra assurance. In December 2018, we talk about the rarity of recurrence after 15, especially 17 years. Four months later I’m in his office for a second look because I feel a change. He orders four needle biopsies, and I’m on my way down a treacherous road with dizzying speed.
Questions assail me, questions of why, why I, not the doctors or machines, discover the cancer, doubts about the efficacy of previous treatments, including eight years of endocrine therapy, questions about my contribution. Why didn’t I push for MRIs or ultrasounds? Am I complacent? What’s the cause? The surgeon lists all of the risk factors, but not one applies to me. Causes, answers, and certainty elude me. Invasive lobular carcinoma doesn’t present as a lump; it mimics the mammary glands and is stealthy. By the time it’s found, it’s been there for a while, like a squatting tenant. The only certainty is the importance of self-examinations.
I remember my first diagnosis in 2002. The internet in its infancy, I looked to it for answers, for the truth. What does this mean for my future? I want to know! I was walking into the heart of darkness, a mystifying, hazardous place. I was afraid and had to stop, take control of my thoughts, find peace.
The surgeon places her fingers next to three words on the report: “No distant spread” and confidently affirms, “That’s good! That’s what you want to focus on.” These three words are a gift fending off darker thoughts. I am blessed to have them in my report right now.
Why does the mind and heart fight so hard to accept a dearth of answers? What do I think answers will provide? Why do I return again and again in search of them? It’s a common reaction. When a personal betrayal happens, we want reasons. When a school shooting occurs, we want causes. Dealing with events we can’t control might be the most challenging experience we face as humans. Do we really believe finding reasons helps us cope better or is it to control the uncontrollable?
“Control is a drug, and we are all hooked” Kate Bowler claims as she faces a Stage IV colon cancer diagnosis at age 35. As people gather around her after the bombshell news, she reflects:
“I can barely admit to myself that I have almost no choice but to surrender, but neither can those around me. I can hear it in my sister-in-law’s voice as she tells me to keep fighting. I can see in my academic friends, who do what researchers do and google the hell out of my problem. ‘When did the symptoms start?’ they ask. ‘Is this hereditary?’ Buried in all their concern is the unspoken question: Do I have any control?” (Bowler, 84).
We are so hooked on control that we don’t even realize the pressure we put on the sufferer.
It’s a tricky balance to give up certainty and control but resist being controlled by the disease or distracter you face. I wonder how people with a Stage IV cancer diagnosis live each day. I ask my determined friend, JoAnn, who has battled three ovarian cancers over fourteen years, how she copes with uncertainty. She doesn’t have the cushion of my three words; a harsh reality greets her every morning as she swallows numerous pills that trick the cancer cells. What happens if the cancer outsmarts the new medicines?
JoAnn squeezes the juice out of life—she buys, sells, organizes, plans, executes, travels, befriends, includes, mentors, loves, gives, forgives, and parties—eager to savor the yields to the last drop. I ask her how she does it. Her reply is uncomplicated but hard-won: she doesn’t think about her cancer except every three months when she is tested. Though she may sound bionic, she has trained herself to control fear through living day-to-day, refusing to be controlled by cancer, and selective denial. Every quarter when she gets the email results, she says a prayer and holds her breath wondering if this is the day. She hopes for a cure in the meantime, another medical advance. Maybe you don’t relate to her approach because you’re consumed with fear and worry, but she teaches me something I hold onto: letting go of control doesn’t mean being controlled by cancer or my circumstances.
Before cold caps gain popularity in the US—freezing the scalp during chemo to prevent hair loss—JoAnn paves the way for the procedure at the local hospital. She buys a specialized freezer and with comedic, I-Love-Lucy attempts by her friends over eight hours, figures out how to maintain a frozen scalp with ice packs in coolers kept at 32 degrees. It works. Not everyone has the financial resources to do this, but everyone can deny a disrupter from having the last word, as JoAnn does after her first diagnosis:
“When I was diagnosed with cancer in 2006, I was devastated. We had a trip planned to Europe in six months that we were excited to go on. I didn’t think it would be an issue for us to go, but as time grew closer to our vacation, I started to talk to my doctor about it. He told me he didn’t think I would be able to go. He said my blood counts were very low and they would have to move up to a certain number. I said, ‘Well then, I’m going to work on that.’ He told me it was out of my control, and I said I could pray about it. After I prayed, I knew either way it would be fine. It didn’t have to go my way for me to have peace about it because I left it to the Lord. I never canceled the trip; I just thought positively, and ten days before we were to leave for our trip, I went to the doctor to see what my blood count was. It came up to the exact number needed for me to go.”
This snapshot of a 14-year survivor of ovarian cancer, a rare type of patient, a rare woman, evokes questions. What role does attitude play in healing? How effective are selective denial and a fighting spirit in beating the odds? When is denial useful? When harmful? How does a person generate muscular hope and optimism about seeing a cure?
My friend Greg, an administrator of a dozen hospitals across the western US, reminds me of the power of attitude and prayer in healing. There’s a growing body of medical research from leading hospitals and universities across the U.S. that concludes that attitude, prayer, and a belief in God are beneficial, making people healthier, happier, and live longer. Duke University’s Harold G. Koenig, M.D., states that “[p]rayer can prevent people from getting sick—and when they do get sick, prayer can help them get better faster.”
Click this link to learn more:
https://www.newsmax.com/Health/Headline/prayer-health-faith-medicine/2015/03/31/id/635623/
People may differ on the role of attitude and prayer in healing, but one thing is clear, we can choose life-affirming or life-denying responses to our disrupters. Are you active or passive, scrappy or docile, a resistance fighter or a compliant civilian? Life-affirming responses come from scrappy people who grab hope and live by it.
A full and abundant life after why awaits you; gifts wait to be received, unwrapped, and enjoyed.
Source cited:
Bowler, Kate. Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I’ve Loved. New York: Random House, 2018.
Thank you for reading this blog post! I’d love to hear how this story impacted you or someone you know and/or any stories you’d like to share. Click here to contact me. - Sheri