Stories of Survival

Anonymous


Johnson City, TN

When Suzanne Holley asked me to write this article, she said it gave her a "buzz" to give a former instructor an assignment. The real "buzz" is mine; I'm alive to complete this assignment.

Nine years ago, I was diagnosed with cancer. During these nine years, I have felt every emotion on the spectrum. Fear, dread, anger, resentment, frustration, persecution. You name it, I've felt it. Hope, love, gratitude, amusement. During the years, I grieved the loss of body parts, wore a wig, irrigated a Hickman catheter, and wrestled with my own mortality. I learned to cry. I learned to trust.

Today I feel fantastic, but everyday is not like today. Some days I am frightened and depressed. There were days, during the early months, that I was nauseated and thin. How did I get through the bad days? How do I cope with them now?

I pass on to you, the reader, a few tips that were — and are — helpful to me during periods of uncertainty. No guarantees that they work 100% of the time, but they're worth a try.

? Remember that you are the most important member of your treatment team. This entitles you to information and input. You don't need to apologize for asking questions. You have that right. Your voice is important and necessary.

? Remember that your treatment team is not clairvoyant, they are not mind readers. It is your responsibility to ask for what you need. A simple explanation via the telephone may save you a lot of worry. My thick record in the office probably reflects the times I have requested an EKG when I felt a thump in my chest and several times I called or dropped by for reassurance. Sometimes I feel grown-up and strong but sometimes I'm a scared little girl. My caregivers know and respect this.

? Remember that there will be bad days. Even people who don't have cancer have bad days. Nine years later, I still feel overwhelmed by the dread of relapse. I find it helpful to name my feelings. "I feel scared." "I feel helpless." This facilitates my getting a "handle" on my feelings. I find it helpful to cry. I still remember that day more than eight years ago that Dr. Kincaid and my husband, Keith, sat with me while I cried — and cried — and cried. Their unhurried patience gave me permission to begin the task of grieving. Today the tears are more often shed for joy. A golden autumn day, a familiar melody, a hug from a family member or friend will make me misty eyed. A good report still brings a flood. Tears are a wonderful gift; be sure to use that gift.

? Remember there are people you can call on. It helps to talk it through — to process your emotions — with a trusted friend or family member. It also helps to be that someone to a friend in need.

? Finally, remember that neither life nor death can separate us from God's love. I often say this to myself while I'm waiting for the results of a test or an x-ray. Nothing can separate me from God's love. I stake my life on this.

Thanks, Suzanne, for the assignment.

Shirley M. Turkett

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