You get to choose

Elaine Rogers is a personal and business coach and trainer, based in Co Cork, and I was interested in her sharing some of her wisdom here with us on JBBC. I don’t think Elaine will mind me letting you in on the fact  that it took her several months to write this piece. As she said in her email to me…”apologies it took so long, I had a complete blank on it for so long. I suppose I kinda avoid the subject as I have not really been touched by cancer, except for the attached story.”   

I think that is so true of many of us before our cancer diagnosis. Cancer was always something that happened to other people, and certainly not to us. I know that there was  no room in my busy life for cancer, but life had other plans in store for me. We cannot live our lives expecting to be struck down by illness or disaster; but equally we cannot live our lives without acknowledging the possibility that this may be our story. I would have said that I wouldn’t have had the strength or courage to go through a life-threatening illness like cancer, but when it came down to it, you find the strength and the courage and you can learn and grow through all of life’s challenges.  As Elaine writes, you get to choose how you will handle whatever challenges life throws at you. Cancer or any illness or difficulty may take a lot from you, but one thing it can never take is your ability to choose how you will respond in any given situation.  

My final thought is that I am delighted Elaine chose to share a story with us. As regular readers know, I am all about the stories – which is the perfect opportunity for me to quote Barry Lopez again “Everything is held together with stories. That is all that is holding us together, stories and compassion.”  And now for Elaine’s story:

It was such an exciting time – lots of things going on – new continent, new country, new jobs, new weather, new currency, new boss, new staff, new friends.  

1996 – Living in a completely foreign land brings its challenges, including those just mentioned. But simply because I am out of my comfort zone, I am rearing to go, excited to find out about new cultures, meet new and different people, work in a completely different capacity, and cope with all that comes with the show.  

And so the show went on, a life of running a highly sophisticated Safari Lodge in Namibia, Africa; entertaining, nurturing, managing staff, filtering the pool water, driving 400 miles round trip for groceries, taking guests on safari drives, capturing snakes that invariably creep into guests’ accommodation. Our days consisted of breakfast, checking out, checking in, lunch, gardening, cleaning, inventory, dinner, bar games, game drives, hippo tours, BBQs and guest entertainment. It was a whirlwind. A 25-year-old woman so out of her depth, enjoying life and working hard, but nothing would prepare her for what she would soon discover was a human devouring disease that she had only heard mentioned before.  

The Lodge was fantastic; we hit the ground running and were having the time of our lives. After a couple of weeks, we were visited by a couple who managed an Elephant Hunting lodge right across the river from us, but a 30km drive by road. Our newfound friends, Manja and George, arrived with their dog Benji (a “wild African fighting dog” – he was a dote really) and became our distraction from long hours of working and entertaining.  

Month after month we would hang out together in between busy schedules. Being European also, they provided us with some home friendship comforts that we so missed. Within 6 months, we had become very close. One day they popped in to say hello after I had a Malaria scare, and had been treated by Manja, who was Matron of the local hospital. I was feeling peaky from a throat infection (thankfully not Malaria) but noticed Manja looking a little peaky herself. I suggested that she take some time off, and we were then hit with the bombshell, that she had ovarian cancer, and had less than a year to live. We were devastated. Manja had initially self-diagnosed through Iridology and then sought medical diagnosis. I will never forget what she said to me one day “I contracted this disease because I have never had children” She was 38, and this terrified me as I was only 25, and convinced that if a woman does not conceive, she is more prone to contract ovarian cancer.  

I never understood her acceptance of the disease. It took over her body and each month Manja deteriorated in front of our eyes. They both adopted a highly pragmatic approach to the illness and changed their lifestyle to suit the illness.  

Within 6 months, Manja went from a Matron of an extremely busy hospital, to wheelchair bound and severely depressed. It broke our hearts that she was so dependant, that she carried a whistle to attract George’s attention if she needed him. It broke our hearts that a friendship so new and intense would just suddenly end and we had no control over it, just as she believed she had no control over her condition. After 10 months, it was time for us to move on to the next stage of our travels. We headed to Cape Town, South Africa to prepare for a major trip to South America. Manja and George also headed to Cape Town to be closer to the proper treatment. Manja was dead within the following two months. From a well-built woman of nearly 6 feet tall, to a shadow sitting in her wheelchair with only acceptance in her eyes.  

We had to accept too. We never understood but accepted her acceptance. What she said to me haunted me for many years, as it turned out I never had children, and am now Manja’s age. I do not believe now that a woman will get cancer if she does not conceive. Manja will never know the pain that her passing away caused me, nor those resounding words she shared with me before she died. She only knows her own pain in those final days of lucidity. George went back to Europe and we lost touch.  

It’s a curious thing, to be touched by someone like that in your life. Our lives went on and our adventure continued. We talked about Manja a lot as we sat in the bush by the campfire in Chile or on the Altiplano of Bolivia or the jungles of Brazil, the months after her passing away. We came across a stunning perfect cone of a volcano in Peru called “El Misty”. I am quoting here from my travel journal of 18-08-1997:  

“…but decided not to go back to the Imata road, but continued on to Pati and Arequipa. Alas, we did not reach Arequipa on Friday either, but managed to descend by 1500M down to 3300M, opposite the beautiful cone-shaped volcano “El Misty” (5822M). Found a gravel pit to camp in away from the dust of the road. We sat and watched a full moon rise, as it got dark. It lighted up the volcano peak, which glowed in the moonlight. I dedicated this mountain to Manja (& Benji)…”  

There and gone, such is a life. I often wonder if things would have been different if Manja had fought the disease. I know nothing of the disease itself only that the word dis-ease suggests conflict in the body.  

So if you have only recently been touched by the turmoil that an illness like cancer can bring on a human or family, the only foresight is the stories from before – some successes, some failures. It makes no difference, you will not understand the feelings and emotions that arise. You may never understand, like me. But it’s difficult not to be affected by the ensuing turmoil. I can only say that it’s a process and how you decide to approach it will determine how you are affected by it.  

As a Coach, my clients often refer to stress or external factors causing them stress. They will state that certain conditions caused them stress or someone made them feel stressed. Ultimately, stress comes from within, simply by how we react to situations or others. No one MAKES us feel a certain way, we choose how we feel. I have made my choice for today, and I am feeling good writing this. How are you choosing to feel today?