Three words. Just three little words. They can change your
life forever. For those of us who’ve heard them, we know the instant
trepidation and fear that accompanies those three words, “You have cancer.” Almost
immediately after hearing the words, the mailbox begins to fill with all sorts
of pamphlets and information on cancer or cancer related items. The calendar is
quickly inked with one appointment after another and life begins to revolve
around a disease. That word, cancer, the one we all hate, snakes its way into
almost every conversation and suddenly, there’s an internal radar that hones in
on any and everything beginning with the letter C. After processing the initial
shock of the diagnosis, treatment begins. Life becomes a whirlwind aggressively
attacking those cells and doing whatever is necessary to eradicate them.
Everything seems to move at warp speed and then, just like an F5 tornado, the
storm is over and you’re left in the wake to pick up the pieces. Life is
supposed to go on but how do we do it? How do we learn to transition from
living life in the midst of cancer to living life after the storm of cancer has
passed? There are no guidelines. There are no rules. We’re left to figure it
out on our own.
As with each case of cancer, each individual is different.
Some of us have wonderful support systems and some of us do not. Some of us
operate out of fear, and some of us walk in faith. We are all wounded. We are
all broken. We are all struggling. We are all different. We have been forever
changed but we can’t live in the past. We have to move on. We have to decide
whether we want to fight to live or live to fight. But how do we move forward?
When treatment was finally over for me, I began to ask myself this question. I’d
just completed my 28th round of radiation. Physically weak and
feeling exhausted, I didn’t have energy to do anything other than think, so I
thought and thought a lot. In my mind, I kept hearing a loud voice whispering, “Now
What?” What was next for me? The doctors wanted me to start on medication to
keep the cancer from coming back. My appointments suddenly went from every 3
months to every 6 months. I was doing well and should have been celebrating. How
fantastic! I was a cancer survivor. I should have been overcome with joy, but that
feeling of joy never hit me. Instead of walking out of the oncologist’s office
with my hands in the air shouting, I walked out more terrified than I had been
on the day I’d heard those three little words, “You have cancer.” I began to
wonder what was wrong with me. I became emotionally distraught. I needed to
make a huge transition in my life and I didn’t know how. So I cried. I cried
and cried and cried. And after the tears had run out, I decided I had to learn
to move from a stance of “I have cancer,” to “I had cancer.” I would learn to
put cancer in its place. Cancer is not a verb, it’s a noun. Yes, I used to “have”
cancer, but I no longer “had” it and it certainly didn’t “have” me. I was going
to figure out a way to move from being just a survivor to that of a thriver. Here
are some things that I’ve implemented in my life to help me do just that:
·
Watch
your language! The first thing I did was learn to watch my language. The
Bible says the power of life and death are in the power of the tongue and I
firmly believe that. Words carry an amazing strength and often, we believe what
we hear about ourselves whether good or bad. I wanted to learn to speak life
over myself. I started to be very careful in conversations and began to shift
my words from saying, “I have cancer,” to “I had cancer.” I started avoiding
making negative comments about myself and started focusing on saying positive
things. Just doing that simple exercise allowed me to set myself free from the
grip cancer had placed on my life. I was putting cancer in the past and I planned
on keeping it there.
·
See
yourself worthy! The next thing I did was to begin to see myself not merely
as a survivor. Even though I’d experienced a very traumatic life event, I
needed to see myself differently. When I looked into the mirror, I tried not to
focus on my scars. They are very visible but they don’t define me. When I see
them, I try not to remember all the physical and emotional pain behind them,
instead, I try to count them as battle wounds. I see myself as a victor. I’ve
fought a battle I never intended to fight and I won! I came out on the other
side. I was still alive! My life mattered.
·
Beauty is
as beauty does! The third thing I did was to focus on always looking my
best. It became important for me to wake up in the morning and greet the day
boldly. After showering and dressing, I put on my makeup even if I wasn’t
planning to go anywhere. I fixed my hair and gave myself a once over. I found that
if I looked good on the outside, I usually would feel good on the inside.
·
Get out
there! I made myself attend family functions and events. Sometimes I didn’t
really feel like going but I knew if I made myself attend, I’d usually have a
good time. I didn’t want to get stuck in a rut of staying home and isolating
myself like I did much of the time I was in treatment. It’s important to be in
social settings.
·
Find a
creative outlet! A creative outlet is very cathartic. Journaling is a
wonderful way of recording and processing thoughts. I find writing down what’s
on my mind to be very healing. I also enjoy photography and painting. Find a
way to express yourself. Whatever you create becomes an extension of you. Don’t
worry about what others think. Do what you enjoy.
·
Move past
survivor’s guilt. It’s hard to wonder why some of us survive and others don’t.
We have no control over that and we shouldn’t dwell on it. Learning to take an
attitude of gratitude will help shift your mind from what “could have been” to “what
is.” I keep a mason jar on my kitchen counter. On small slips of paper, I jot
down things for which I’m thankful. I look for not only the big things but the
little things, too. You’ll be amazed, when you start looking, how many
blessings we receive every day.
·
It’s okay
to mourn. Every once in a while, I find myself missing my breasts. They
were a part of me and I have a right to be sad they’re gone. I don’t dwell on
it long, but I give myself permission to remember them and miss them.
·
Accept
your fears. It’s only normal to have a fear of recurrence after having been
diagnosed with breast cancer. Every ache, pain, lump, or swelling can strike
fear into the depths of our soul but, in order to move forward and thrive, we
have to decide if our focus is going to be on the what ifs or if we’re going to
have faith and trust that our future is held in the hands of Almighty God.
·
One day
at a time, one step at a time. I’ve learned to take one day at a time. I no
longer worry about tomorrow. By learning to live in the moment, I can focus on
what’s going on right there and then. Life is so very precious and I don’t want
to worry or wish my life away.
All of these things have helped me move out of cancer world
into the heart of life. I hope you’ll find one or two helpful tips here and
you, too, will learn to become not only a survivor but a thriver. We were meant
to live a life filled with joy and hope and that’s exactly what I intend to do
for whatever amount of time I have left on this earth.
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