Well, that is an oxymoron if I have ever heard one... But maybe it can be true?
When I was diagnosed with cancer, I was drowning in a job that I loved, but it was also a job that demanded every piece of me- mind, body, soul. I also had some pretty heavy family drama going on, which I will go into later in another blog post. To say I was overwhelmed and unhealthy emotionally, physically and mentally, is a complete understatement.
And then: the diagnosis. I will NEVER forget that day. I had been anxiously waiting on my biopsy results for at least a week. As my Friday afternoon sped by, my hopes of finding out the results before the weekend started were dwindling. The uncertainty was killing me. Then, around 3 pm, my doctor's nurse called and asked me if I could come into the office immediately. Clearly, I was not going to receive good news. My husband and I drove in silence for 20 minutes, as we sped to my doctor's office. I knew before we arrived. I knew that it was cancer. In fact, I knew long before I got that phone call or before my doctor confirmed the results. I think we have an inner knowing- a gut feeling- and my heart was breaking as I tried to wrap my head around the results.
My doctor, a straight-shooting, cursing, adorable young Korean woman, didn't pull any punches. She told it to me straight, as I did my best not to dissolve into a heaving sobbing puddle on the floor. She told me I had invasive ductal carcinoma. I didn't even know what these words meant. She continued, and the news got worse. The cancer was very aggressive, and I would need to see a surgeon right away. She told me about how they would need to block my hormones, and sex for me and my husband would never be the same. I sobbed. I couldn't hold back at this news, and my husband squeezed my hand. The vulnerability in that moment was a type I had never experienced. Of course I was devasted for how this was going to impact my body, but of course I also felt extreme grief for what my husband was hearing. I could barely look at him. The pain I saw in his eyes was close to unbearable.
The worse part of this scene (for anyone who is given a terrible diagnosis) is that you are simultaneously trying to hold it together with intense concentration so you can memorize every word/every diagnosis/every possible scenario being thrown at you, while you are also trying not to give into your intense emotion and desire to sob uncontrollably.
So, how did cancer (possibly) save my life?
I decided it was time to change everything. Although, by most standards I was extremely healthy- I exercised, I did yoga, I grew my own damn kale, and for goodness sake, I even meditated. How did I end up with cancer? It was clear that what I was doing wasn't enough. The biggest initial changes I made involved how and what I ate. I finally gave into the fact that I LOVE wheat and carbs, but wheat does not love me. I decided that intermittent fasting and intuitive eating were the new normal for me. I made sure that the first thing I put into my body every day (a smoothie) had every cancer fighting ingredient I could find. I researched, and I researched some more. I read every book I could get my hands on. I started growing my own broccoli sprouts. I drank green tea like it was my job. I was taking so many supplements that I had to find a special organizer on Amazon to keep everything straight. I pursued alternative, adjunctive therapies- acupuncture, massage, shamanic journeying, repurposed medications/Care Oncology, tapping, and Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR).
As I moved through my treatment, which involved chemo and radiation, I continued to work full-time at my very demanding job. Luckily, COVID had already changed my work environment, and working from home every day was not seen as unusual. My workplace was very supportive, but the demands of the job were increasingly unrealistic. Even my co-workers, who were not dealing with a life-threatening illness, were burnt out. I did the only thing I knew how to do- I researched. As the leader of my team, I put together a detailed report to provide to high level leadership on why we needed more resources to continue producing at a high level. My report, and my continuous cries for help via email and Zoom, fell on deaf ears. My breaking point came when I felt the need to log into work while I sat in my chemo chair. Even my chemo chair wasn't a reprieve from the demands of my job. I told my husband I couldn't take it anymore, and I started applying for new remote positions at other organizations within my field. This is when my husband brought up the idea of working with him in his business. After several weeks of discussing the details, we finally made a plan, but for obvious health insurance reasons, I needed to stick out my job until the end of the year. As soon as I returned to work, after the new year, I handed in my resignation along with an offer to stay on several weeks to help train and transition. I cared very much for my co-workers, and the students/parents that I severed, and I didn't want to leave anyone in a lurch.
Bottom line: I changed everything. My work stress is now ZERO. I love working with my husband on our own schedule. My diet, for the most part, is much healthier. Of course, there are still those nights where I eat pizza and maybe have one more glass of wine than I should (more on that in another blog). Without cancer I would have continued with my unhealthy, stressful work lifestyle. I would have continued with my inflammatory diet and lack of self-care. Now, self-care is my top priority, and I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to change my lifestyle before cancer, or another disease, shortened my time on this planet.
Today, I'm cancer free and "living my best life" (well, most of the time!)
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