"Adjusting to Post-Cancer Life"

“Do you have what it takes to be an astronaut?” queried an ad on my computer screen. Normally, I ignore ads, but this one caused me to reflect.

Hmm. Well, I’ve survived rounds of poisonous chemicals, been tethered to lifelines, had a port inserted in my chest, lay without moving in a narrow tube, and was strapped down as a linear accelerator on a robotic arm beamed intense doses of radiation into me. So floating inside a craft coasting across deep space couldn’t prove more difficult. For me, a spacewalk would be a cakewalk! In fact, at least one aspect of being an astronaut would be better: a debriefing is provided at the conclusion of the voyage. Everyone recognizes an astronaut has been launched into the frightening unknown and needs time to adjust, but not so with a cancer patient.

No one offered me a decompression chamber after my last PET scan was pronounced clear. I was told it was over. I should celebrate. But, I felt strangely adrift. There was a void both on my little calendar squares and in my life. Of course, I did not want to go back to endless treatments, surgery, medical appointments, and fighting for my life. Yet, I didn’t seem to know how to go forward to a post-cancer world either. I felt like I had forgotten how to be “me” apart from being “the cancer patient.” I honestly don’t know what I expected life would be like post-cancer. I imagined any differences would be insignificant because I would be so happy to be alive! Of course, I was thrilled, but since I had both physical and emotional scars, I needed a debriefing to help me reintegrate, not only back into society, but into routine living. .

My husband exclaimed: “Now you can get back to normal!” (I secretly wondered at his enthusiasm. Was he thinking of me making dinner for him?) I read in an article by an oncologist, that the most common time for anxiety to surface is after treatment concludes. One constant worry is of recurrence. I didn’t want to think “what-if” all the time, but it was challenging. I appreciated a close friend who told me, “It is okay to give yourself permission to express your anxiety about recurrence.” I needed someone to tell me the obvious because I only like to share positive feelings. Also, though after a mastectomy, I was technically cancer free, I would get fatigued more quickly, so I really couldn’t jump back into my previous life-style.

It wasn’t feasible to simply pick up where I had left off a long year ago. My new normal included living in four-month cycles of PET scans. So just when I was enjoying activities like a healthy person, the radiologist office would call with a reminder of my next scan, which was also a reminder my life had changed. I realize it will take time to adjust to post-cancer life since I neglected so much else while having to focus on getting well.

However, I did answer the question, “Do you have what it takes…?” with a resounding yes! All that I have been through has prepared me for almost any type of future. No, I’m not applying to the space program, but if I did, I would have one new qualification. Cancer: mission completed!

 Reflection:

Have you struggled with your “new normal” after being in remission?

How do you distance yourself from being defined by cancer?