People who have had the dread diagnosis will tell you
that there is ‘life before cancer’ and life after cancer’. That in a
fundamental way, things are never the same again. Never again is there the same
comforting feeling of a certain future underpinning life. This can be
terrifying in much the same way as experiencing the normally trustworthy ground
under our feet moving during an earthquake. It generates a level of fear that
is existential and ongoing.
Coming to terms with this sort of fear can be one of the
most attested to ‘silver linings’ of cancer, but that doesn’t make it something
you’d wish on anyone. And even for those who do succeed in reaching silver
lining territory, it can be a long and painful road, and one which requires a
lot of support. The feelings of isolation that often accompany the fear tend to
only compound the difficulties.
When in the midst of such turmoil, talk of silver
linings is unlikely to provide much comfort and may even promote anger, but if
this aspect of life-sized crises such as cancer were more widely appreciated,
then it could hopefully lead to better support, which could in turn mean more
silver linings, sooner.
Human beings are notorious for their inability to
stomach too much reality at one sitting, and never more so than when it
involves dismantling treasured futures. The one feature all our individual
futures share is a complete absence of reality - they are products of a
practically universal societal habit of living with a ‘security blanket’ that
enables us to avoid lots of things in the present that we can’t or don’t want
to deal with. This is so ingrained and widespread, so much the very ground on
which we stand, that it goes entirely unnoticed…
until that is, an earthquake
like cancer comes along to wake us up to the fragile nature of our existence,
to our mortality.
After a cancer diagnosis we find a new and unwelcome
companion constantly by our side - uncertainty. Above all, humans like to ‘know’
in order to feel secure. But cancer has a way of stripping away our certainties
and propelling us into a limbo of waiting - waiting for the next appointment,
waiting for the next test result, waiting for the next scan, waiting, waiting,
always craving some morsel of certainty. This limbo is purgatory to those who
depend on knowing for their security.
But, of course, the truth is that life is fundamentally
uncertain, the future completely unknown. Which means that to come to terms
with the experience of cancer is in fact to come to terms with Life, with
Reality, something few have the appetite for, unless severely pressed.
If, through providing the right kind of support, it was
possible for people to move through the mental and spiritual crisis of a cancer
diagnosis more quickly, the pay-off could be enormous, and on many levels. But
what would appropriate support look like? Well clearly it couldn’t come from
anyone still reliant on their own security blanket to feel safe enough to
function in the world - this would be a clear case of the ‘blind leading the
blind’. The only people qualified for the task are those who have come out the
other side themselves. They are living proof of what’s possible and can
authentically deliver their experience of the journey and of the benefits of
making it.
Fortunately, social media has provided a platform for
many - often lead by ‘extraordinary survivors’ - to contact one another, to
inspire confidence, to provide support. This is an entirely unstructured
process, and who knows, that may be the appropriate means to such an unusual
end. But I like to think it could be more structured and thereby more visible
as a resource, more accepted as a necessary part of dealing with cancer
effectively. The concept of ‘expert patients’ has taken hold to some extent, so
maybe it could be extended to a whole other level.
I mentioned that the pay-off for helping someone
through the existential crisis of cancer could be on many levels. The reason
for this is the now indisputable role of the mind in overcoming challenges to
our physical health and regaining our wellbeing. On the macro level, someone
drowning in hopelessness and terror -
a ‘victim of cancer’ - is not even able
to make decisions that will give them the best chances. They are likely to
allow over-zealous professionals, family or friends to guide critical choices
for them. By contrast, a person who finds a way to deal with the uncertainties
of cancer will discover a growing autonomy and will place an increasing
reliance on their intuition to navigate their best way forward.
On the micro level, science has now demonstrated
clearly the effect our state of being has on the functioning of key body
systems such as immunity. I often refer to what I find to be the most striking
feature of the results of Dr Kelly Turner’s researches into the commonalities
of what are described by doctors as ‘spontaneous remissions. In her book,
Radical Remission, she dedicates a chapter to each of the nine factors that all
extraordinary survivors attributed their recovery to (there were many more
factors identified, but nine were listed by all those surveyed). The striking
feature of these nine factors is that seven of them are in the realm of the
mind and spirit, and only two in the physical. This gives some perspective on
the importance of coming to terms with the reality of a diagnosis as quickly as
possible.
The inseparability of our mental health from our
physical wellbeing is deeply ingrained in our culture - notably in our language
- but has only recently started to be accepted by science. With this growing
recognition, I hope we can look forward to a time when people are supported at
every level when dealing with cancer. The mental and spiritual health of
someone with cancer is a major factor in the outcome of their treatment, one that
has been discounted for far too long. Might it be possible to develop new
streams of support that will enable more people who have had the misfortune to
experience the earthquake of cancer to find those silver linings?
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