“Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.”
Of all the emotions associated with cancer acceptance doesn't get that much play. Grief and anger certainly grab their fare share of cancer talk time. Mind-numbing disappointment is right up there as well. The same goes for the kinetic sense of shock felt upon hearing a cancer diagnosis.
On the other end of the spectrum is gratitude. Totally problematic. No one I know needed cancer to appreciate the beauty in a moment, the significance of a child's love, or the fleeting nature of time. Let's get serious. The majority of survivors I know weren't emotional or spritual reprobates before they were diagosed. None of us, before or after cancer, are sensitive and luminous beings about every single thing all the time. That is too gooey for words.
And "cancer as gift?" We won't go there. If cancer's a gift my friend Katie Ford Hall said, "then I'm demanding a refund." Stop by customer service, thank you very much.
Acceptance is the middle ground. Acceptance is pragmatic and realistic, it means that cancer (or any threatening illness) is something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life. Acceptance, though stark, frees you. It empowers you to take positive steps to address your diagnosis, from seeking a second opinion, to making lifestyle changes after treatment. It means that you live with the knowledge cancer could return without living in fear of that happening. Sometimes I tell friends, as if to remind them, "you don't have cancer today." Acceptance helps keep our feet on the ground.
Accepting cancer in your life doesn't equate to being at peace with it; and it doesn't mean that grief is bypassed since few things in life, other than a ruler, are linear. You can accept your diagnosis and be actively mourning the loss of safety and certainly your family is experiencing. Lost time hurts. Acceptance demands that we look at the problem, rather than away. At it's simplest it is life on life's terms.
That's where I am right now: life on life's terms. I've been thinking about this since Friday when @liftweights4jc (Jason) asked on Twitter, "Does anyone ever come to a place where they have peace about having had BC?" My answer is yes, I think so, but I don't know what your experience is or has been. Nothing would be more rewarding for all of us, espeically during the holidays, to explore the question.
So I quickly dropped a note to my #BCSM co-moderators, Deanna Attai, MD, and Alicia Staley. Were they interesting in discussing this? The answer was a resounding yes. I hope you can join us tomorrow night at 9 pm ET/8 pm Central/6 Pacific on Twitter.
And if you can't, I'd still love to hear your answer to: "Have you come to a place where you have peace about having had cancer? How did it happen?"
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. You are such bright lights in my life,
Jody
On the other end of the spectrum is gratitude. Totally problematic. No one I know needed cancer to appreciate the beauty in a moment, the significance of a child's love, or the fleeting nature of time. Let's get serious. The majority of survivors I know weren't emotional or spritual reprobates before they were diagosed. None of us, before or after cancer, are sensitive and luminous beings about every single thing all the time. That is too gooey for words.
And "cancer as gift?" We won't go there. If cancer's a gift my friend Katie Ford Hall said, "then I'm demanding a refund." Stop by customer service, thank you very much.
Accepting cancer in your life doesn't equate to being at peace with it; and it doesn't mean that grief is bypassed since few things in life, other than a ruler, are linear. You can accept your diagnosis and be actively mourning the loss of safety and certainly your family is experiencing. Lost time hurts. Acceptance demands that we look at the problem, rather than away. At it's simplest it is life on life's terms.
That's where I am right now: life on life's terms. I've been thinking about this since Friday when @liftweights4jc (Jason) asked on Twitter, "Does anyone ever come to a place where they have peace about having had BC?" My answer is yes, I think so, but I don't know what your experience is or has been. Nothing would be more rewarding for all of us, espeically during the holidays, to explore the question.
So I quickly dropped a note to my #BCSM co-moderators, Deanna Attai, MD, and Alicia Staley. Were they interesting in discussing this? The answer was a resounding yes. I hope you can join us tomorrow night at 9 pm ET/8 pm Central/6 Pacific on Twitter.
And if you can't, I'd still love to hear your answer to: "Have you come to a place where you have peace about having had cancer? How did it happen?"
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. You are such bright lights in my life,
Jody
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