Day 18: What Lies Beneath

My friend, Alex, sent me this print by Nicole Barsaleau a few years ago. I have it framed in my kitchen and I read it often. It reminds me of something my therapist, Brian, said to me many moons ago: “The prana (the all-knowing energy) cares about you and also cares about the system.” In other words, as we get better, we make everything around us better, too.

When I first got sick, I was angry and confused. How could this happen to ME? I try to do everything right. I follow all the rules and best practices. I take care of myself. How could I get cancer at a young age? Scientifically, I knew I was exposed to toxic fertilizers and industrial pollution in my hometown where I grew up. I understood cancer happens when one of our cells has a mutation that our immune system misses and then it quickly replicates while masquerading as a normal cell. Cancer is a sneaky little f*cker.

“This cancer came to hone you,” Brian said in one of our sessions as I was preparing for surgery and the long treatment road. “There will be a kind of death. And also a rebirth.”

To which I responded, “The Universe couldn’t hone me with something that WASN’T cancer?!”

I didn’t choose cancer but I could choose how to approach it and learn from it. Part of living is to make meaning of the things that happen to us. To do some good with whatever finds us, particularly if we didn’t choose it. What good was I going to do with cancer if I lived to restore my health? That puzzle kept me looking forward and reaching out. It still does. Universe willing, I’ll be learning from cancer and using what I learn to help others for many years to come.

I’ve coached people through their own illnesses, many of them different types of cancer. I’ve participated in clinical trials that yielded new medications and treatments. I’ve referred friends to my doctors. I’ve written articles and done interviews about my experience and they’ve helped thousands of patients and caregivers make a way out of no way. My nearly dying from Taxol changed the way my cancer center evaluates bloodwork to identify a rare but potentially lethal side effect at its earliest stages. I’ve signed off to have my data join with thousands of others in enormous databases for scientists to use today and in the future.

“Use this body for science,” I tell my doctors. They did. They still do. They will continue to.

In an ironic way, cancer made me healthier, happier, more grateful, and less stressed because I learned to make my own health my single biggest priority. Without it, I can’t do anything for anyone.

Do I wish I could have learned that without cancer? Sure. Do I think I would have? Maybe briefly but it wouldn’t have stuck. Now, my body, mind, and spirit force me to maintain it.

I’m better now, and the system’s better, too.