Finding 'me' again ...

3 minute read time.

Extract from 'The Cancer Survivor's Companion' (Dr F. Goodhart)

For most of the time you sail along weathering both the expected and unanticipated storms that occur in every life.  Then, all of a sudden and without warning, the most horrendous storm blows up - much worse than any you have experienced before and completely unexpectedly. Your boat is tossed all over the place, you are lashed by rain and wind, the waves crash about you, their size obliterating the horizon and restricting your vision to the immediate surroundings. You fear for your life and hang on to whatever is to hand to stop yourself from being washed overboard.  But, like treatment, the turmoil subsides and there is the beginning of the calm after the storm. You look around at your boat, battered and damaged though it is, and it is still afloat.There is a need to repair and mend those bits that have been broken or damaged. Some items may be lost, washed overboard and you will have to find ways of proceeding in spite of these losses. Once you have looked over the boat, you gingerly look out to sea. But instead of a clear blue ocean and cloudless sky you see little but mist and fog. Your sea charts have been lost in the storm. You are not really sure of your position, whether you are in the same place as before, pointing in the same direction. You may also wonder whether you want to go on along the same path as before.The sea, though calmer, is still unsettled and your world feels unstable under your feet. Thoughts of where to go, what next, how to get help assault you and add to your worry and uncertainty. 

The above extract is such a heartfelt description of the rollercoaster of emotions since that evening of Wednesday 27th April this year. Over the last few weeks, I have had a chance to speak to and hear from different people about how I'm feeling. I think I realise that I'm punishing myself unnecessarily for feeling so sad and that it is not unusual at this stage to have this massive anxiety cloud hovering over me. Regardless of what type of diagnosis and prognosis and how 'common' it is, having cancer is not normal.  The treatment process does not end on the last session of chemo/radiotherapy. The time now is equally as difficult as you are now left on your own to come to terms with what has actually happened over the last 6 months with the lingering side effects as a gentle reminder: the tingling of my fingers if they are in one position for too long, the tightness as I stretch out the left arm, the nausea I from starting the Tamoxifen recently, the unsightly toenails which have come away as a result of chemo. Moving on is almost as tough as living through diagnosis and treatment because whether you like it or not, cancer changes your life, forever. The mental trauma is delayed until right at the end when the whole gruelling treatment process has ended. I know that the physical symptoms will expire in time but I have to be more patient with the emotional side. I have to learn to accept that the sad feelings are ok to have right now and allow myself time for these anxieties to subside and slowly rebuild myself again, physically and more important, emotionally. My fears will never go away but I have to learn to manage them. I have started light exercise and doing a lot of walking. I figured that once my body gets stronger, I'm sure my mind will too. I've never been a fan of exercise but at least it's one thing I feel I can have control of right now and can action. Over the last few months, the treatment plan has been set out black and white and followed vigourously. Now I just need some time to catch up with myself, to digest/accept what has actually happened and slowly rebuild to find 'me' again and to spend my time enjoying the present and embracing the future with less fear. 

 

  • 5 comments
  • 0 members are here
Anonymous