The Big "C"
You've been diagnosed with cancer. OMG! Now what?
“The only thing we have to fear…is fear itself.” This wise FDR quote is the secret sauce for the life of a cancer survivor. Once you even expect a diagnosis, it can start to work. As a cancer survivor now dealing with cancer #4, I continue to use it.
I used to be afraid of the dark. The monster was never under my bed but creeping up the stairs or out of the closet to get me. But for every stray sound – real or imagined – my mom would say, “That’s just Beloogi.” Who is he? “He’s nobody.” She said it with such conviction that I knew if I has any kind of creepy concern, it was Beloogi. At some point I subliminally realized there was no Beloogi, and I was pretty much immune to the power of fear after that.
Clearly, not everyone grew up with a Lithuanian mom like Millie. So for all you folks dealing with cancer, and your loved ones who want to help, I’ll be your Millie.
It all begins when someone says, “You have cancer.” This totally and absolutely sucks. I’ve heard it four times now and it doesn’t improve with age. My recommendation is to allow yourself 24 hours to freak out. Cry, throw stuff, take to your bed, whatever. You deserve to be pissed off. It explodes your world. You need some time to emote. But any longer than that and you are not doing yourself any favors. It’s imperative to get yourself in the driver’s seat as soon as possible. This is the moment story starts to get better.
# 1: Take the Fight
It’s you against the cancer. The gauntlet has been thrown. There’s an obvious hero here. You are now your own action figure. Commit to the role. (Honestly, there are only two options. And the other one is a non-starter, but until you commit, it’s the one you’re picking. This is no time to play the weenie.) You can do this. It wasn’t invited. You don’t want it. So just get it the hell out of here.
# 2: Set the Game Plan
Respond to whomever said those words to you with, “So what do we do now?” They will explain immediate next steps or set you up with who can. You want an oncologist because they know the most about what’s happening to you. You want to find out what the situation is and what your options are. You want to start treatment because that is your ammo for the fight. Write stuff down, don’t try to remember. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, even if it’s, “What does that mean?” or “Can you please repeat that? I don’t understand.” Once you have a plan it becomes a fair fight.
# 3: Stay in the Present
Unless you have a crystal ball (and if you do, please let me know where you got it because I’ve been dealing with this since 1985 and I haven’t been able to find one anywhere!), the only future scenario worth your interest is beating the cancer. There are a million what ifs and they’re all nothingburgers without the crystal ball.
You can’t change the past; you can’t second-guess the future. Don’t waste your time. You’re in the ring. Stay there; stay focused. Or as the mindfulness people say, “Be Here Now.” That’s where all the fun is anyway.
The last thing you want to do is ask “Why me?" I’m disgusted by that pandering campaign and it only derails you on your game plan. Who the hell knows why? And even if we did, what does that change? Wallowing on this does not help your fight. So don’t get sucked in.
Let me just say that as bad as having cancer is, there are some really amazing things that come out of it, like:· learning the magnificence of science with constant breakthroughs and great minds working tirelessly on our behalf
· working with the many outstanding people drawn to healthcare, from the schedulers, pharmacists and techs, to the nurses and doctors, all who really care about us, reminding us that we are not alone in this fight
· watching your perspective zone in on what is really important so you get out of the silliness and small stuff
· seeing how really funny life can be
· and trying to make each day count – not as if it were your last because, hell, anyone can be hit by a car at any time – because you can create today now. Remember, you’re an action figure. This is your superpower.
I think having cancer can make you feel more alive, which actually is a gift. And a gift is a thing of joy, not fear.