Tag / cancer psychological impact

by Jacqueline Chartier

What I Know About Cancer Survivorship

It’s been over ten years since my cancer diagnosis and there are still times when I ask myself soul searching questions about this disease, especially its impact on society and on individuals. A lot of what I’ve written about in this blog involves the terms that we use when we talk about cancer, take survivor and survivorship for example. Although these expressions seem to be embedded in the cancer lexicon, there is still confusion regarding their meaning. I personally believe the terms survivor and survivorship encompass the following truths:

1. You are always a cancer survivor.

“Cancer survivorship begins at diagnosis and covers the physical, psychosocial, and economic issues of cancer, from diagnosis until the end of life.” 

As a woman who has fought gynaecological cancer, I’ve come to accept this commonly held view of cancer survivorship. First I accept the all-encompassing notion that’s presented in this definition because cancer does impact every single aspect of a person’s life. In retrospect, I also believe that my survivorship began that moment in my gynecologist’s office when he told me the devastating details of my pathology report. Simply being diagnosed with cancer made me a survivor, from this perspective I didn’t have to wait until after I had completed a full year of treatment or until I was officially in remission. Before the surgeons at the Tom Baker Cancer Centre cut into my body, and before the first drop of chemotherapy solution ran ominously into my veins, I was already a survivor in the eyes of the cancer community. I appreciate now that I’ll always be part of this incredible, strong and resilient group.

2. No one is less worthy of being called a cancer survivor.

The commonly accepted definition of “survivor” within the cancer community is simply a person diagnosed with cancer. So once the terrifying sentence, “I’m so sorry, the biopsy shows that you have cancer,” leaves your doctor’s lips and pierces your soul, you officially begin life as a cancer survivor. I remember my first chemotherapy treatment and how insecure I was, part of me felt like I was less of a “survivor” than some of the other cancer patients who had been fighting the disease for years. I can laugh at the situation now, but I was rather worried that some of the veteran chemotherapy patients might be able to tell that I was a newbie. They would ascertain that I looked too healthy and had all of my hair! When I arrived for my first session, I noticed that the people around me seemed to have many types and stages of cancer—what is more, a good number of them in the waiting room exhibited full heads of hair.

3. Cancer survivorship means confronting loss.

Emotions such as fear, hopelessness and grief infiltrate the lives of cancer survivors. Most psychologists maintain that grief is a person’s normal, healthy response to a loss. Understandably, I grieved after my father died, he was only 63. But I was rather surprised to find myself experiencing similar feelings when I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. As I came to terms with the devastating diagnosis, I learned firsthand that the loss that triggers grief isn’t always physical. You can experience sorrow if you or a loved one are diagnosed with a major disease or face a serious illness. It’s common to grieve the future plans you had made, or the ways life will change. Remember there is no “right” way to grieve, every cancer survivor is different. Give yourself time to experience your loss in your own way. Also understand that as a cancer survivor it’s important to make a commitment to yourself. You should make it a priority to take care of yourself emotionally, spiritually and physically.

4. Cancer survivorship is life-altering.

It’s been proven that when we are diagnosed with cancer our attention often turns away from the small and trivial distractions that surround us. Taking life for granted has become our culturally-induced default mode — we are trained to overlook the essential. As a cancer survivor I’ve ultimately been freed from this monotonous, addictive cycle. For example, I’m grateful for the oncologists who oversaw my case, especially my surgeon. I remain in awe of the fact that they literally saved my life, I also remember the nurses who were with me 24/7 in the hospital. I established a bond with several of them when life-threatening complications forced me to spend seven consecutive weeks on the cancer unit. Weeks in cancer time pass by like years, almost decades, but the magnificent oncology nursing team that I had somehow helped me pull through the agonizing eternity I found myself living .

I have a profounder awareness, one that allows me to truly appreciate the arrival of spring after a long hard winter. The sense of renewal or rebirth that is associated with spring has been heightened for me in so many ways. I appreciate the small wonders like a pair of finches building a nest in our yard and the poppies that bloom in the garden each June. Each day that I’m cancer-free is like a gift. It’s a miracle each morning when I wake up and become conscious that my disease is in remission and that I’m lying in my own bed. Sometimes I give a huge sigh of relief when I discover that I’m not in the hospital and there is no need to drive to the cancer centre for chemotherapy or a checkup.

by Jacqueline Chartier

You Lift Me Up!

I’ve chosen to dedicate this Teal Diaries post to two amazing women who recently passed away, their legacies are something that I wish to make known and that I strongly admire. Although I never met them in person, Dr. Nadia Chaudhri and Julie Rohr had an impact on me and on thousands of others within the global cancer community. I will forever remain grateful to them for choosing to share their lives so publicly, for inspiring me, and ultimately for becoming such a positive part of my own journey with ovarian cancer. Nadia and Julie’s lives were tragically cut short, however before they passed on, they taught me so many lessons about what it is for us as human beings to face our mortality. Both women embodied qualities such as humility, resilience and strength of spirit, but above all they revealed to me something fundamental. They both demonstrated through example that we should always endeavor to treat each moment that we’re alive as precious. 

The Legacy of Dr. Nadia Chaudhri

Dr. Nadia Chaudhri was driven and passionate, a gifted academic as well as a wife and the mother of a young son. Just as the pandemic was beginning, she started feeling unwell and visited her doctor. Some of the issues that she reported to her physician were fatigue, lack of appetite, abdominal bloating and frequent urination. Nevertheless, it took Nadia months of personal advocacy and multiple referrals to different specialists to finally determine what had been causing her symptoms. In June 2020, at 43 years old, the Montreal neuroscience professor, was diagnosed with metastatic ovarian cancer. That fall, she went through chemotherapy but was told the following spring the cancer would be terminal. 

Nadia chose to share her life as the disease progressed and posted some of the most poignant moments of her journey on social media. She eventually gained over 150,000 followers on Twitter. While she was in the hospital, Nadia drafted a GoFundMe pitch to help fund travel for young scientists — particularly those who are marginalized or underrepresented in the field — to be able to attend the Research Society on Alcoholism’s annual conference. On the first day, her initiative raised $50,000 US. Soon after Nadia’s GoFundMe launched, Concordia University also set up a fundraiser in her honour. The Nadia Chaudhri Wingspan Award will become an annual scholarship to support neuroscientists from underrepresented backgrounds, including students who may face barriers related to systemic issues like racism, sexism or geographic origin.

Like thousands, I watched in wonder as Nadia accomplished more in her final weeks than most entirely healthy people would normally undertake in a year. From her palliative care bed, the beloved wife, mother, colleague and teacher rose awareness about ovarian cancer, the devastating disease that was gradually killing her. She even continued her fundraising for the Wingspan Award. She posted videos of her daily hallway “shuffle” and invited people to donate. Though Nadia disclosed the harsh realities of living with a terminal diagnosis—such as the angst she faced before telling her young son about it—she also shared pockets of wisdom and joy, including paintings she made, close-ups of flowers and pictures of her and her family.

Myself, I’ll always be grateful for the heightened public awareness Nadia was able to raise concerning ovarian cancer. “I am mad as hell that I was misdiagnosed for so long,” she tweeted this year on World Ovarian Cancer Day, May 8. “And mad as hell that there’s been minimal progress in the treatment of ovarian cancer.”

The Legacy of Julie Rohr

Julie Rohr was a young mother from Edmonton, Canada, she was living with retroperitoneal leiomyosarcoma (LMS), a cancer of the soft muscle tissue. It’s one of those extremely rare cancers — only about one in one million people receive the exact diagnosis Jule did — which means there’s little funding for research or treatments. When they first discovered her cancer medical experts informed her that she would be lucky to live five years. However Jule ultimately lived six years beyond her initial diagnosis, making the most of each moment. As a cancer patient, she endured several major surgeries in addition to many grueling treatments, an ominous list that included radiation, ablation, and chemotherapy.

Julie’s love of live and her constant hope and positivity made her well-known in Alberta and throughout Canada; she was treasured, especially within the cancer community. Even when periodic tests would show that her cancer had spread or returned, she remained a force of nature and still devoted her time to encouraging others facing the disease. Julie’s cancer advocacy and powerful words often made the local or national news, in addition she had thousands of followers on social media.

“Even though I have been through many surgeries, radiation, chemo and all the rest, cancer hasn’t (and can never) take our spirits, can it? We all make the choice, every day, to look for the good in life. To build one another up, even on the hardest days.” 

Julie Rohr was just 38 years old when she died 

by Jacqueline Chartier

What Cancer Patients Most Need to Hear

Looking back on my almost decade long journey as a cancer patient, I’ve come to recognize that there are certain validations and reassurances that I wish to receive. I’ve also discovered that there are some fundamental psychological and emotional needs that are common in people who are living with cancer. Here is a list of what I believe we long for from our friends, family and those closest to us 

We need you to reassure us that our cancer isn’t our fault.

It’s been well documented that many cancer survivors have feelings of shame or guilt, particularly around the notion that they may have played some part in causing their cancer. Moreover, people often subtly, or not so subtly, blame us for our disease. Friends, family members or strangers often do this unwittingly, in an attempt to rationalize a painful reality and to cope with it better themselves. 

There is a difference between taking responsibility for the consequences of our actions and feeling like we deserve to be blamed. It may be true in some cases that a patient’s lifestyle or health care choices increase the odds of getting cancer or contribute to cancer progression. No doubt in such circumstances changing certain behaviours may improve their health. However, allowing a cancer patient to absorb blame and feel shame will almost certainly make matters worse. Instead, it’s better if we do not let shame and guilt keep us from moving forward. Feelings of guilt should never stop a cancer patient form getting the support they need and deserve, or from living in a healthier way. 

One cancer survivor said in a Globe and Mail newspaper interview that he thought healthy people should never give cancer patients health advice. “There’s nothing worse than being sick and getting advice from the healthy, because it’s almost like insinuating you did something to make this happen to you,” he explained. I firmly agree with this statement, and I become extremely angry when someone who has never experienced cancer tells me how to live my life with the disease. I’ve decided shame and guilt are unnecessary burdens to carry. Indeed, from everything that’s known about the emotions and health, acceptance and forgiveness are what we need to cultivate and enhance healing, not self-condemnation and self-blame.

We need you to validate our emotions, especially the unpleasant ones.

In took a cancer diagnosis for me to finally realize how essential validation is for a person’s mental health, especially their self-esteem. To validate someone is to recognize or affirm their validity or worth or the worth of their feeling or opinions. To validate someone often means using both your words and actions to make them feel valued or worthwhile. 

You might want to begin by acknowledging that cancer can be a terrifying experience and a diagnosis of this disease is usually a turning point that will alter a person’s life forever. I hate when people try to deny this fact or minimize it by giving me false reassurance. The truth is I don’t know if I’m going to be fine, you don’t know I’m if going to be fine, even my oncologist doesn’t know for certain if I’m going to be fine. Instead, I feel comforted when people use phrases like “I believe in you.” or “I’m pulling for you.”

We need you to be specific when you offer us assistance. 

“Can I do anything to help you?” Your overall intentions for asking a cancer patient this question is likely noble and your heart is in the right place. However, the phrasing of this question is frequently too vague or broad. The person undergoing cancer treatment is probably too overwhelmed to think of something specific, furthermore they don’t want to feel like a burden. Instead, it’s recommended that you ask if you can perform some task in particular for the person. “May I pick up some groceries for you?” or “I’d like to make you dinner tomorrow night.” are good examples of things you might want to say. Even scheduling routine appointments is difficult for an individual facing surgery or chemotherapy, so it might also be fitting to take the initiative. Many of us facing cancer treatment would be delighted if you offered to make some telephone calls or send some e-mail messages.

We need you to acknowledge our losses. 

Sometimes I view my cancer diagnosis as a series of losses, for example I’ve been forced to abandon or reassess many of my long-term professional goals. I lost numerous clients when I was unable to work for approximately a year. By the time I had undergone several major surgeries and then struggled through chemotherapy treatment, I had realized how stressful, competitive and deadline oriented my field of freelance journalism can be. I had to make the decision to step back from the relentless demands of trying to do assignments all the time.

Allow us to cry, to feel numb, to be angry, or to feel however we’re feeling. These emotions hurt, but they are natural and normal. Grief is a person’s normal, healthy response to a loss. I’ve discovered firsthand that the loss that triggers grief isn’t always something physical. You can experience grief if you or a loved one are diagnosed with a major disease or face a serious illness. It’s common to grieve the future plans you had made, or the ways life will change. Remember there is no “right” way to grieve, everyone is different. Give us time to experience our loss in our own way. 

by Jacqueline Chartier

What 2020 Has Taught Me

This year’s global pandemic has taught me many valuable lessons, some of them I had previously learned by being a cancer patient but had almost forgotten. Ironically, I’ve found that cancer and a pandemic have much in common in terms of the emotional and psychological impact that they have on an individual. The world order has been shaken by this once in a century global crisis and I doubt that we will ever go back to the exact same existence that we knew before. People will divide their lives into before and after the pandemic like I now divide mine into before and after cancer. An article in the British newspaper The Guardian compared the COVID-19 pandemic to a magnifying glass, noting that it has illuminated deprivation, inequalities and political unrest, while reminding us of the power and beauty of nature and humanity.

Here are some of the issues that the pandemic has shed a light on for me:

We are surrounded by a materialistic and competitive culture. 

As I was forced to spend more time at home or in solitude due the pandemic restrictions, I was reminded of what is essential or important. Too many of us can’t imagine life without frequent trips to shopping malls and beauty salons, if we’re younger we don’t know what to do when our weekend isn’t spent going to night clubs and parties. Meanwhile, the pandemic has allowed some of us to regain focus on what really matters, things like our relationships, our sense of self, perhaps in the end our definitive contributions to this world.

The gap between Canada’s richest and poorest continues to widen. 

“There’s a convenient fiction perpetuated that Canada hasn’t experienced the great extreme inequalities of wealth at the top end that the United States has,” a report from Canadians for Tax Fairness said. “It’s true that our wealthiest don’t have fortunes at the same level as Jeff Bezos or Warren Buffett, but the number of Canadian billionaires has increased at a far faster rate than the number of American billionaires and their total wealth has also increased at a much faster rate.” The pandemic hasn’t stopped the wealthiest from growing their fortunes. The report found Canada’s 44 wealthiest people, all billionaires, grew their wealth by a total of $53 billion between April and October of 2020. 

The sick, elderly and disabled continue to be marginalized.

Figures compiled by the Canadian Institute for Health Information uncover the devastation of the pandemic on our most elderly and vulnerable citizens. During the first wave of the pandemic, more than 80 per cent of COVID-19 deaths in the country occurred in long-term care homes and retirement homes. During the second wave, seniors in nursing homes and residents of institutions once again bore the brunt of the pandemic. This was despite vows from federal and provincial governments to make improvements, changes aimed at preventing the second wave from ravaging long-term care facilities. Tragically the pandemic has revealed the systemic failures in how the world’s most developed countries choose to respond to aging, disability and the need for end of life care. 

The lowest paid people in the country are essential to its functioning.

As COVID-19 has invaded the country’s communities, there are many Canadians who cannot — must not — stay home and avoid it. Among them are the recognizable and well-paid heroes, the doctors, nurses and paramedics. These essential workers always have to be there in national or local emergencies, and they have risen to the call time and again. But in 2020, Canada’s essential workforce expanded its ranks. It now includes people who never expected to be on the front lines of a crisis, workers whose jobs have been traditionally invisible or undervalued. These truck drivers, grocery store clerks, cleaners, personal support workers and municipal workers had little time to prepare themselves for their newly dangerous roles. They entered the pandemic without masks, face shields or plexiglass barriers. Along with those in health care, they’ve had to learn on the job how to protect themselves from the virus. A lot of them have gotten sick. And yet, they show up day after day.

Science and medicine are the greatest wonders of our time.

I’m alive because of medical science and what it’s capable of in the fight against cancer, during the search for a COVID-19 vaccine my sense of wonder was renewed. Never before in human history have vaccines for a pathogen entered final stage clinical trials and received approval for distribution to the public so rapidly. Just one year ago, when the death toll from the coronavirus stood at one and neither it nor the disease it caused had a name, a team of Chinese scientists uploaded its genetic sequence to a public site. That kicked off the record-breaking rush to develop vaccines. It’s difficult to associate anything to do with this pandemic with good fortune, but the fact that the culprit was a coronavirus — one that was strikingly similar to others that had previously leapt from animals to people — meant scientists could quickly rejigger vaccine projects in the works for those. It was almost like swapping a blue Lego for a red one in their assemblies.

by Jacqueline Chartier

Cancer Survivorship: Tips for the Long Haul

On November third I’ll mark the ninth anniversary of my cancer diagnosis, sometimes it feels like yesterday and other times I see it as a lifetime ago. So much has changed in the world since that afternoon when I was told that I had both uterine and ovarian cancer; I feel that in many ways I’ve become a completely different person. The “new normal” has become my reality, however there are still days when being a cancer survivor is difficult, terrifying or lonely. Here I’d like to share some of the strategies that have helped me through the long haul of cancer survivorship, it’s always a struggle even though my disease is currently in remission.

Remember how you found motivation when you started your cancer journey.

When you’re first diagnosed with cancer, you’ll definitely have moments when you sense that your world is spinning violently out of control. The fundamental paradox for me as I underwent surgery, hospitalization and chemotherapy was that I was often put in situations where I felt a sense of power. To my surprise, I witnessed myself exhibit exceptional courage and self-assurance. It was sometimes as if I was standing in life’s Category 5 hurricane and remaining steadfast and unbroken. I don’t aspire to be a legend like Terry Fox or to be anything resembling a saint or a cancer hero. But through those dark days I discovered inner qualities and personal strengths that I never appreciated or properly acknowledged in myself.

Advocate for your needs using assertiveness.

As a cancer survivor you should never stop being assertive when it comes to ensuring that your needs are met, be direct, non-aggressive and specific with your requests. As an ovarian cancer survivor, I understand that women living with this ruthless disease need love and support and we deserve to be treated with empathy and compassion. We shouldn’t have to endure abusive or toxic relationships, especially when it involves a spouse, caregiver or other family member. Of course, navigating the complex and overburdened health care system also requires patients and families to advocate for themselves—it can sometimes literally mean the difference between life and death. I so often felt ignored or regarded as a medical case number, that the occasions when I was treated with dignity or compassion are especially memorable to me. The best medical professionals still find time to connect with their patients, and they are genuinely concerned about what we are thinking and feeling.

Focus on what is essential in your life.

I’ve come to the conclusion that cancer itself doesn’t make us see what’s meaningful; we see it when our attention turns away from the small and trivial distractions that surround us. Taking life for granted has become our culturally-induced default mode — we are trained to overlook the essential. As a cancer survivor I’ve ultimately been freed from this monotonous, addictive cycle. For example, I’m grateful for the oncologists who oversaw my case, especially my surgeon. I remain in awe of the fact that they literally saved my life, I also remember the nurses who were with me 24/7 in the hospital. I established a bond with several of them when, life-threatening complications forced me to spend seven consecutive weeks on the cancer unit. Weeks in cancer time feel like years, even decades, but the magnificent oncology nursing team that I had somehow helped me pull through.

I’ve noticed that I can truly appreciate the arrival of spring after a long hard winter. The sense of renewal or rebirth that is associated with spring has been heightened for me now. I appreciate the small wonders like a pair of finches building a nest in our yard and the poppies that bloom in the garden each June. Each day that I’m cancer-free is like a gift. It’s a miracle each morning when I wake up and become conscious that my disease is in remission and that I’m lying in my own bed. I give a sigh of relief when I discover that I’m not in the hospital and there is no need to drive to the cancer centre for chemotherapy or a checkup.

Build your passion into your post-cancer life. 

Even after a cancer diagnosis upends your life and disrupts your usual routines, it’s important not to abandon your interests and hobbies or the things that you enjoy doing the most. I enjoy writing and I still do that as much as possible. There’s an emerging group of professionals who employ the arts to help people heal. The new field is called creative arts therapies, and it encompasses a wide range of modes of expression including art, dance/movement, drama, music and poetry. When cancer patients undertake these activities, whether individually or with the guidance of a creative art therapist, they stand to benefit psychologically and emotionally. Recently there’s been a trend toward simple or old-fashioned crafts and hobbies such as knitting. Some adults are even using colouring books to relax and reduce daily stress. 

Connect with a mentor or support group.

There’s a familiar proverb that states that it takes a village to raise a child. I think that this can be modified to assert that it takes a village to properly support a cancer patient. When I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer nine years ago, I was suddenly faced with a whole new array of complex needs. It was sometimes necessary, or in my best interest, to accept the assistance of my family members or inner circle of friends. During treatment I also had access to social workers, psychologists, dieticians and other skilled professionals to provide support and guidance. Even this far into my cancer journey, I still belong to several online support groups for women with ovarian cancer and take part in fundraising events.

by Jacqueline Chartier

When Having Cancer Means a Fresh Start

Psychologists have observed that a cancer diagnosis is for most people a major life event, mentally we tend to divide our life into before and after we had cancer. For me it’s definitely been like that, in many ways I feel as if I was given a clean slate or a new beginning. First, becoming ill with cancer has required me to both analyze and redefine the relationships I have with those closest to me. In many cases I’ve had to set new boundaries, as I will no longer tolerate toxic or unhealthy relationships. Some personal and business relationships that I had before are finished, as a rule I no longer remain in contact with people who were unable or unwilling to support me throughout my cancer journey. 

Now that I’m a cancer survivor, I’ve become more sensitive to the characteristics of toxic people and how they mistreat others. I choose to avoid them whenever possible, meanwhile I set boundaries and keep my composure when I’m in situations in which I must associate with them. I recently came across a fairly accurate description of what it’s like to be in such a relationship, it can be a relative, a friend, your boss, or a work colleague. The harmful individual likely demonstrates at least some of the following characteristics:

  • Nothing you can say or do is good enough.
  • They comment on the smallest flaw or perceived imperfection.
  • They drag up your past and won’t allow you to grow or be different. 
  • They act like they are flawless and never make mistakes.
  • They leave you feeling guilty and ashamed of who you are.
  • They are critical, controlling and don’t think about your needs.
  • They violate your boundaries and never respect no.
  • They don’t care about your feelings and they like to see you suffer.
  • It’s always about them and what they think and want and feel.

Of course, evolving relationships are just one element of my new life as a cancer survivor, I’ve been forced to abandon or reassess many of my long-term professional goals. I lost numerous clients when I was unable to work for approximately a year. By the time I had undergone several major surgeries and then struggled through chemotherapy treatment, I had realized how stressful, competitive and deadline oriented my field of freelance journalism can be. I had to make the decision to step back from the relentless demands of trying to do assignments all the time.

At first it was hard to adjust to my new normal as far as work and income are concerned, but now I often relish the freedom and the time I have to relax and enjoy other things. Of course, there are still periods when I’m extremely busy, I’ve been required to learn a great deal in recent years. It’s been said that going through a cancer diagnosis and then undergoing treatment is a learning experience equivalent to a university degree. I carry an abundance of knowledge regarding the Canadian health care system, cancer, and gynecological cancer in particular, gleaned from the terrible events that I have been through. 

Finally, the way I view myself and the world has changed enormously as well. I’ve learned by necessity how to live my life day by day, and sometimes even moment by moment.  I’m always mindful of the present and what it has to offer me, I’ve also noticed that I rarely use words like “someday” because I try to avoid talking about future plans in vague or uncertain terms. Most healthy people I know take the future for granted and think of it as something that will always be there for them. In 2012 I spent over a month and a half on Unit 42 at Calgary’s Foothills Hospital. This women’s cancer ward is predominately a place of bravery, triumph, heartbreak and tears. When I looked into some of the other patients’ eyes, I could see them begging for a future, and I understood that they would do almost anything for the gift of just a few more months in this world. As a cancer survivor I’ve discovered how precarious tomorrow really is and that you can’t always depend on someday.

by Jacqueline Chartier

New Year’s Promises

I don’t generally believe in the tradition of making New Year’s resolutions, but I’ve still chosen to make some promises for 2018. I’ve learned that the most important promises are the ones that I make to myself, changes I initiate in an effort to improve the quality of my life or to help nurture a sense of purpose.

I’ll begin by taking a close look at some of my relationships. Many experts argue that the most important choice you’ll ever make is the people you surround yourself with. Since my cancer diagnosis I’ve basically developed zero tolerance for having toxic people in my life. In 2018 I promise to do all that I can to eliminate the power these individuals exert over me. There are some obvious signs of a toxic person and you’ll generally recognize it when you are in such a relationship. Here are some of the common red flags:

  • Nothing you can say or do is good enough.
  • They comment on the smallest flaw or perceived imperfection.
  • They drag up your past and won’t allow you to grow or be different.
  • They act like they are fabulous and never make mistakes.
  • They leave you feeling guilty and ashamed of who you are.
  • They are critical, controlling and don’t think about your needs.
  • They leave you feeling beaten, wounded, battered bruised and torn.
  • They violate your boundaries and never respect no.
  • They don’t care about your feelings and they like to see you suffer.
  • It’s always about them and what they think and want and feel.

If you notice these signs, it’s best to cut the person out of your life completely or to at least keep them at a distance. Such individuals are capable of inflicting serious emotional and psychological harm, especially if you are in frequent contact with them over a prolonged period of time.

 

IMG_0091

 

i hear a thousand kind words about me
and it makes no difference
yet I hear one insult
and all confidence shatters

focusing on the negative

I can definitely relate to this poem which appears in the collection The Sun and Her Flowers by Rupi Kaur. I promise to be less critical of myself and to focus more on why I am a special and worthwhile human being. I promise to focus on my positive qualities and the valuable contributions that I am able to make while I’m in this world. My battle with cancer has revealed to me that people often won’t love and respect you until you choose to love and respect yourself.

Finally, I promise to be more mindful in my day to day living. I’ve discovered that one of the best ways to quiet my mind and focus my attention is a technique called mindfulness. The renowned scientist and author Jon Kabat-Zinn pioneered using this method with cancer patients and other groups at the University of Massachusetts Medical School. Mindfulness is basically just a way of paying attention, a way of awakening our minds and being present in the here and now. With principles found in Buddhism, mindfulness teaches us to live the moments contained in each day rather than focusing on what might lie ahead.

Acceptance and letting go are crucial components of mindfulness. A philosophy of mindfulness encourages us to come to terms with our life, even difficult experiences such as a cancer diagnosis. Acceptance means seeing things as they actually are in the present. Mindfulness doesn’t require that you have to like your situation—you don’t necessarily have to assume a passive attitude toward suffering or life’s unfairness. However, you must come to terms with things as they are and acknowledge them, whether it’s a diagnosis of cancer or the possibility of its recurrence.

by Jacqueline Chartier

The Problem with Cancer and the Warrior Ethic

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the controversial, yet commonly held, notion that a cancer diagnosis is a war or a battle that must be won. Doesn’t this philosophy place the burden almost entirely on us patients? If we die or if our cancer ultimately recurs it’s because we didn’t think positively enough or we weren’t strong enough to will it away. I know of plenty of women who’ve succumbed to ovarian cancer and they were among the bravest and most resolute people on Earth. In my opinion, a person’s cancer outcome will depend almost exclusively on medical science. Of course, there are always certain unknown factors or variables—what we sometimes refer to as chance. I’ve learned to face the reality that much of what occurs in terms of my cancer is beyond my individual control, no matter how strong or determined I try to be.

terry-fox-determination

When I was first diagnosed, an iconic image associated with cancer kept going through my mind. I closed my eyes and I could see one of Canada’s most legendary and revered figures, Marathon of Hope runner Terry Fox. I can vividly remember Fox from the photographs and TV clips of my early adolescent years. He continues to represent a certain type of heroism to me, and his legacy offers proof that one person can change the world in the face of tremendous adversity. Nevertheless, it was beyond the young Fox’s control, that his cancer returned and he was forced to stop his Marathon of Hope. In the end, he received multiple chemotherapy treatments and even experimental interferon treatments; in spite of everything, the disease continued to spread. Terry Fox died on June 28, 1981, with his family by his side. My point is that even the heroes among us don’t have it within their power to simply will cancer away.

Well-known screenwriter and producer Josh Friedman was recently diagnosed with kidney cancer, he writes eloquently about the warrior mentality in a personal essay he authored for Time magazine. “Cancer doesn’t give a damn how tough you are,” he argues. “Cancer doesn’t care if you stared down the North Koreans like John McCain, or won the Tour De France like Lance Armstrong.”

Friedman is adamant that patients shouldn’t feel a burden to be brave or to be victorious in some kind of ongoing battle with their disease. “You don’t battle cancer. You don’t fight it. If cancer wants you it sneaks into your room at night and just takes you. It doesn’t care if you’re John Wayne or John McCain.”

“The tough guy narrative is seductive,”  Friedman reminds his readers. “It suggests we have control over our fate, that we can will cancer away. These are lies we tell ourselves. And for some patients that’s helpful. It gets them through the day. For them, it’s a useful tool. But courageousness is a standard that no sick person should feel like they have to meet.”

One popular theory that makes me especially angry is one that links specific personality types to an increased risk of getting cancer. “The Type C Connection: The Behavioral Links to Cancer and Your Health,” argues that the personality traits of some people make them more prone to cancer. Typically, “Type C” individuals are the antithesis of warriors: They are unassertive people-pleasers who repress their emotions.

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Modern researchers have largely debunked the idea that negative emotions heighten an individual’s susceptibility to developing cancer, or that maintaining a positive outlook can stave off cancer’s return or delay its progression. I agree with the majority of oncologists and cancer researchers who argue that there is no evidence to support the idea that personality can influence the growth of malignant cells. There is no cancer for which attitude can halt the progression of disease. Healthy people may think that if they are diagnosed with cancer they will be treated quickly and then all they’ll need to survive is a positive attitude and a fighting spirit. They are wrong.

A recent article in the Washington Post bore the straightforward headline: “It doesn’t take a warrior to beat cancer. It takes a treatment that works.” The author shares his opinion that people shouldn’t think that their cancer outcome is primarily in their hands. Whether a person returns to a life that is cancer-free will depend on so many things that are out of their control. It will depend on the type of cancer they have, how early it was caught, how quickly they get the treatment they need, how well their body responds to the treatment, how skilled their doctors are, how well oncologists understand their type of cancer, their underlying health, their genetic make up etc. It will also depend, in part, on how lucky they are.

by Jacqueline Chartier

The Etiquette of Cancer

I’ve been living with cancer for six years now, having been through three abdominal cancer surgeries, five rounds of chemotherapy as well as countless scans and procedures, I’ve become deeply aware of the “etiquette of cancer.” Or the lack thereof. Etiquette has everything to do with situation, context, timing, individuals and circumstances—cancer etiquette is the same. I can’t offer any concrete rules, only suggestions and advice about how to communicate when the subject you’re dealing with is cancer. Perhaps most importantly you should be authentic and true to your relationship. Essentially the person hasn’t changed and wants to be treated as you always have. He or she is still that special someone in your life, with cancer, for the time being.

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Respect the Person With Cancer’s Privacy

One important area of etiquette that was sometimes breached during my diagnosis and treatment was respect for my privacy as a cancer patient. Of course, I won’t name people specifically, but there were one or two family acquaintances who took it upon themselves to spread the news of my illness. Please don’t share cancer information unless you know you have permission from the individual. Don’t use telephone calls, emails, social media, newsletters or bulletins to comment about a person without their specific consent. This rule is especially important when it comes to something as intensely personal as one’s health or a cancer diagnosis.

 

Practice the “Ring Theory” of Kvetching

Recently a technique has gained attention for coping with a major life crisis, such as a serious illness.  It’s called the ring theory of kvetching, so named by the psychologist Susan Silk, writing in the LA Times in 2013. Silk drew on her experiences as a breast cancer patient. When she declined one colleague’s visit, pleading exhaustion, she was told, “This isn’t just about you.” “It’s not?” she wondered. “My breast cancer is not about me? It’s about you?” The main principle of the ring theory is that support, caring, comfort FLOWS IN. Kvetching, venting, complaining, requests for empathy, all of this only FLOWS OUT. The person or people with the illness, trauma, or other enormously challenging life situation — they get to complain outwardly to their first circle of support. The first circle of support does NOT vent — about the challenges, the loss of sleep, the emotional toll, etc. — to the person or people at the centre of the trauma.

 

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Don’t Offer Treatment Advice

When I was undergoing treatment, I can remember getting angry when people other than my cancer care team would try to give me medical information. “If I want information regarding cancer or cancer treatment, I’ll ask for it,” I thought. In the months following my cancer diagnosis I was inundated with information and advice from my medical team. Consequently, the articles from newspapers, magazines or online publications that I received from other people were annoying. For the most part these pieces were irrelevant and unnecessary. Also be careful when presenting teas, potions or homeopathic remedies to treat cancer. When some individuals gave me a gift basket with ginger and dandelion root, I didn’t bother to explain to them that these nutrients are specifically mentioned on a list oncologists give to their patients. Ginger and dandelion root do not combine well with many traditional chemotherapy drugs, and therefore patients should refrain from using them during active treatment.

 

Don’t Minimize the Diagnosis

Don’t declare, “Oh, cancer’s no big deal. My mom has had that for 20 years and is doing fine.” Remember that I’m not your mom and that any cancer is a serious issue. Even skin cancer, bladder cancer and other “minor” malignancies kill people every day. They cause suffering. They cause organ removal and disfigurement and fear and shame. I hate when people try to deny this fact or to minimize it by giving me false reassurance or by saying that I’m going to fine. The truth is I don’t know I’m going to be fine, you don’t know I’m going to be fine, even my oncologist doesn’t know what my outcome will be. Instead, I feel comforted by phrases like “I believe in you.” or “I’m pulling for you.”

 

Don’t be Judgmental or Ask for a Health History

For many cancer patients there’s nothing worse than being sick and getting advice from the healthy, because it’s almost like insinuating we did something to make this happen to us. It may be true in some cases that our lifestyle or health care choices increase the odds of getting cancer or contribute to cancer progression. However, if you cause someone with cancer to absorb blame and feel shame it will almost certainly make matters worse. Shame and guilt are unnecessary burdens to carry. From everything that’s known about the emotions and health, acceptance and forgiveness are what cancer patients need to cultivate and enhance healing, not self-condemnation or self-blame.

by Jacqueline Chartier

Finding the Resilience to Face a New Year

This is the sixth New Year that I’ve celebrated since my cancer diagnosis, and each one brings with it a mixture of hope, fear and uncertainty. For many cancer survivors watching everyone plan for the future is difficult, it can produce mixed emotions and make the dawn of a new year extremely challenging.

That’s why I’m not going to use this blog to give a lecture about New Year’s resolutions or to suggest that you make elaborate promises to yourself. I realize that living with cancer often renders such gestures trivial and that your life is probably being planned week-by-week or month-by-month. Instead I’ve chosen to share some of my favourite quotations about resilience.

I hope the meditations that I’ve selected make the beginning of another year a little less daunting for you and provide you with strength and inspiration for your cancer journey. As someone once said, life doesn’t get easier or more forgiving, but we can choose to get stronger and more resilient.

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“Resilience is accepting your new reality, even if it’s less good than the one you had before. You can fight it, you can do nothing but scream about what you’ve lost, or you can accept that and try to put together something that’s good.”

— Elizabeth Edwards

 

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

— Maya Angelou

 

“My scars remind me that I did indeed survive my deepest wounds. That in itself is an accomplishment. And they bring to mind something else, too. They remind me that the damage life has inflicted on me has, in many places, left me stronger and more resilient. What hurt me in the past has actually made me better equipped to face the present.”

— Steve Goodier

 

“You all know that I have been sustained throughout my life by three saving graces—my family, my friends and a faith in the power of resilience and hope. These graces have carried me through difficult times and they have brought more joy to the good times than I ever could have imagined.”

— Elizabeth Edwards

 

“Those who make us believe that anything’s possible and fire our imagination over the long haul, are often the ones who have survived the bleakest of circumstances. The men and women who have every reason to despair, but don’t, may have the most to teach us, not only about how to hold true to our beliefs, but about how such a life can bring about seemingly impossible social change.”

— Paul Rogat Loeb