How to Get Through Hard Stuff…like Breast Cancer
A Concise Guide for Coping with Cancer Treatment
You Can Do Hard Stuff. I say this to my teenagers all the time. Sign up for that honors pre-calculus class! Go on that backpacking trip in the Rockies! Wake up at 5am and re-read that term paper! You Can Do Hard Stuff. What made me such an expert? I’ve always had a fascination with survival stories and incredible feats of endurance and fortitude. I drink up the tales of ultra-marathoners, mountain climbers, open water swimmers, Navy Seals and firefighters. I love hero stories. But please don’t get intimidated, I’m no hard-core athlete or hero. While I have always been active and fit, I also love being lazy, drinking that second margarita and not changing out of my pajamas until the afternoon. I’m a former lawyer, retired uber school volunteer and a busy mother of 3 teenagers. So, in May of 2019, when I discovered a lump in my left breast while soaping up in the shower, I initially assumed it was nothing, but I should probably get it checked out. Fast forward a few days to the breast cancer diagnosis on my 48th birthday. Happy Birthday to Me! This is hard stuff.
How did I get through the hardest year of my life? A year that would begin with 12 rounds of chemotherapy and end with a double mastectomy and reconstruction? The same year that I lost one of my best friends to suicide and my beloved dog? A year of weekly blood draws, complete hair loss, sudden menopause and chemically induced mood swings that would alternate my psyche between deep depression and euphoria? A year of the most intense fear I would ever feel in my life? Well it wasn’t pretty, but you know kids, I Can Do Hard Stuff Too.
One and a half years post diagnosis, I am only now able to look back on my cancer saga with the benefit of hindsight. Three life lines kept my chin up and my gaze forward: the love of my family and friends, my laser focus on small, future milestones, and my newly learned-on-the-job skill of radical thought control.
Let the Love In and the Emotions Out
Cancer is full of contradictions. It was both the worst thing that ever happened to me, and yet it allowed the brightest light of love into my life. The sweet, beautiful love of my worried kids, the loyal, patient love of my ever-optimistic husband, and the cheerful energetic love of my tribe of close girlfriends. Cancer forced me to throw my hands up and bask in the love that is homemade lasagne and smoothies, flowers left at the driveway gate and card after card of encouragement. My aspiring Navy Seal self had to actually allow people to care for me. This was hard stuff. One minute I was an energetic cancer warrior, psyched up to go for a post-treatment hike, the next minute I was weepy, wilted and desperately afraid I was going to die. My family and dear friends saw it all, and even though it was not me to be so loose with my emotions, in the safety of their company, I let them flow. At a restaurant with a dear friend, over linguine with clams, I never thought I would suddenly, openly cry about not having any eyebrows. But I did, and it was okay.
Focus on the Future
I’m all in for “mindfulness” and being “present,” but during my four months of chemotherapy, I stared straight into the future. With blinders on, focusing on mini calendar driven milestones kept me moving forward. My mind operated like this: On July 1st I will be done with my first infusion, just get to July 1st. Fill the calendar with things that make me happy. Hike with Leanne, dinner with Kristin, phone call with Kate, weekend with Liz, night walk with kids for ice-cream. Okay, made it to July 1st. Phew. Now, on July 15th, I will be done with my second infusion, just get there. After that I will only have 10 more to go. I literally took a paper calendar, hung it on the wall and crossed off the days with a giant red X as I inched my way through treatment. After each week of chemotherapy I sent a text to my girlfriends, “week 6 – check!” There is something satisfying about moving through a hellish time in this bracketed way. I toggled between being present in my newly slower-paced life while fiercely fixated on the future and putting each treatment behind me. The advice of taking one day at a time is worth listening to, but do not forget you are going through this difficult treatment so that you can have a future.
Radical Thought Control
I cannot underestimate the importance of a good therapist. Learning how to literally stop my dark thoughts was a skill that would serve me well throughout this ordeal, and one that I continue to use today when my mind dives into the rabbit hole. I learned how NOT to psych myself out on the big harry mess that is cancer. I learned how to jolt my thoughts out of thinking about recurrence and death. I eliminated “what if” disaster thinking from my brain and I learned how to literally say to myself, “STOP THOUGHTS! YOU ARE NOT SERVING ME!” and then reroute my thoughts to optimism, unicorns and rainbows. Newly empowered with this bizarre skill, sometimes, while driving, I would pull over my car, close my eyes and take myself to Hawaii in my head, the taste of mai tai’s, the scent of plumeria and the sound of the ocean – a perfect salve for my anxious, fearful mind. This skill did not come easily, it took hard work with a therapist, but It was essential for my peace of mind.
No one chooses cancer. Cancer sucks. There is not much more to say about it. Life while having cancer is hard. You can get through it. Remember the love, be in the present but look to the future and keep control of your mind. You Can Do Hard Stuff.