And so the journey began

by

road

How suddenly life can change. How illusory that feeling of control over our lives….

As you can see, I am in a reflective mood this week, as I remember the strange limbo I found myself in this week five years ago. For it was this week in 2004, that I received the news that I had cancer. This week was the waiting week – the week before surgery – the week when my life changed – the surreal week.

Just like a where were with you when JFK got shot kind of moment, the moment of your diagnosis is etched on your brain forever. Your life changes in an instant with just three words “you’ve got cancer”.  Cancer, a word heavy with images of death.  Sure, we’re all going to die someday – but that’s someday in the future. Who knew that someday could be now?

Nothing prepares you for this moment. It is truly a surreal feeling.  I felt like I was looking on at a scene in a film where the heroine – beautiful and brave of course finds out she has cancer and will die – still looking beautiful and brave. Images of Debra Winger in Terms of Endearment popped into my mind and didn’t she corner that market in Shadowlands too? I remember how moved I was at her performances and now here I was with a starring role in my very own drama.

Surgical, chemotherapeutic and radiotherapeutic options were being thrown at me all in the space of a few minutes. All this while I am in a state of shock sniffling into the tissue the breast care nurse has just handed me. It is like being hit by a truck you didn’t see coming until it was too late.  Afterwards all I can remember is the silliest thing – that the doctor wore a tie with repeating images of Donald Duck swimming in front of my eyes – I never took my eyes off that tie as the doctor delivered the diagnosis to the wall in front of me.  I left the clinic in a state of shock and disbelief clutching a booklet that has been thrust into my hand with a title something like “So you’ve got cancer”. 

A feeling of unreality persisted for most of the week. I cannot remember any of the actual information that I have been given – only the fateful words “you’ve got cancer”. On getting a diagnosis of cancer, you can have different reactions from the “Why me?” “What did I do to cause this?” “What did I do to deserve this?”  to the denials  “I don’t have cancer”, “They made a mistake”, ” You read about these medical errors all the time.”  I felt  a profound sense of shock but in a curious way, somewhere underneath the shock, I also feel a sense of adventure. I felt very much that I was about to embark on a journey like nothing I have ever experienced before and a part of me, what the Buddhists would call the detached observer, was curious as to how I would handle it.

My surgery was scheduled for a week’s time and over the next few days after the diagnosis, as I tried to absorb what has happened and the implications, to plan for treatment (sick leave, commitments, etc), I was possessed by a sudden urge to go shopping. I distracted myself with retail therapy, stocking up for my impending hospital stay with new nightwear, expensive handcream (which now I can’t bear to smell as it reminds me so vividly of my time in hospital), books and CDs. I felt like I was on a rollercoaster – one day bringing feelings of confidence and hope, the next day fear and despair. Luckily a lot of the fear and panic was neutralised by the love and support of family and friends. By the time I got into hospital a week later, I was exhausted, all shopped out, talked out (now I know how those celebrities feel when they are on promotional tours) and emotionally drained. The next stage of my journey with cancer was about to begin…

Category : Personal Reflections
Tags :