On what cancer has taught me.
Cancer. Wow. I probably won’t ever forget the moment when Mr Brown, my surgeon at Treliske sat on the edge of the bed in the little beige room, pulled down his surgical mask, looked me straight in the eye and said “Jessica, it is a cancer”.
What a rollercoaster and there are so many routes it can take. I can only speak of my own experience and I don’t pretend to know anything about what it feels like to have a terminal diagnosis. I feel lucky to have caught it early and to not have had to go through chemotherapy, and I also feel extremely lucky to have had access to many things that have helped me immeasurably. Perhaps as part of the healing process for me, it feels cathartic to write and perhaps in the hope that it might help someone in some way that is having a similar experience, here are my thoughts on what cancer has taught me*.
*By the way, I wouldn’t say ‘cancer is a gift’; no, fuck that. Cancer is totally shit and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But like Beyonce’s best album reminds me, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.
Here I am (on the right) post surgery, about to start radiotherapy with the 3 people who have lit me up since 1998. Celebrating Emily’s wedding with my BFF, my quad of power: Emily, Emily and Scruff (and baby Sylvie).
1. Remove the toxins from your life
This nugget of wisdom came from Kris Hallenga’s book ‘Glittering a Turd’ and I would highly recommend all of her outgoings to anyone with a diagnosis. There’s the more obvious toxins and I’ll come on to those, but think about the people and the places and the things. Just before my diagnosis I moved away from 2 highly toxic individuals who were making my life unnecessarily stressful and after things reached a head, I decided to remove them from my life completely which has been the best decision for my health. My greatest victory over their small minded toxicity has been becoming infinitely happier and more peaceful. So I would recommend taking a look at where you are, who is around you and how it makes you feel and if it ain’t good, then get the hell out of there! Life is too short for anyones bullshit.
2. Be in nature. Repeat. BE in nature.
This is where the healing is. I was very lucky and I was able to move to a 40 acre community farm with woodland paths to a beach (ridiculously dreamy I know). It just so happened that the man I met on tinder 2 years ago lived here, and so now I do too. After my diagnosis, I pretty much shrunk my world to the farm, the beach and my very closest people. It felt good to simplify. One of the best practices I began was walking barefoot around the place and just focussing on the feeling of the mud, sticks and grass under my feet. It helped me to feel a little steadier and that was the main aim of many days. Be it your garden, an allotment, a park, a river or any natural space, I’d say just go be there as much as possible. Get quiet, pay attention to what is around you and let the trees, the wind, the rain, the sun and the earth calm your nervous system and hold you steady. Rest.
3. Eat well
The doctors said just be healthy. The healers said to lower dairy and sugar. Some more extreme alternative medicine practices said juice and cleanse and enema and all kinds of things. Kris said, a life without chocolate and wine is not a life worth living. I think it’s pretty subjective and I think everyone has got to do what feels right here. I think diet can be something that can feel helpful to focus on as it gives us a sense of control over what sometimes feels like an out of control situation. I choose to be 85% good. I lowered my wine consumption a lot, pretty much to a glass or 2 a week. I have cut out a lot of dairy, but I’m still going to have a pizza every now and again. I’ve tried to eat more organically as reducing pesticide and chemical use where possible seems like a good idea. The farm is an organic vegetable farm with spring water which does make it easier, and we grew a few of our own things for the house too; beetroot and courgettes and chard. So I’d say, order the veg box, get the oat milk in and if you can, try to grow a few things, even a salad on a windowsill is better than nowt.
4. Trust your self
There is SO much out there and everyone has an opinion on cancer. The doctors and nurses are amazing, but they are trained in a certain kind of medicine which in my opinion is not inclusive of all the medicinal knowledge we have available to us. They will treat what is directly in front of them and deal with side effects later (such as increased risk of another type of cancer). I found that asking them all of the questions over and over was helpful and they were all incredibly patient and kind and very supportive of my choices. I wanted to know the facts and figures. What I was initially offered I refused every time. They wanted to do a year of hormone treatment first and then surgery, but after I found out more I decided to go for surgery straight away. They now would ideally like me to take Tamoxifen (an oestrogen blocker) over 5-10 years to reduce my risk of reoccurrence. I now understand that whilst giving you menopausal symptoms and preventing you from being able to conceive, Tamoxifen reduces your risk of reoccurrence by a third. However! If your risk of reoccurrence is 5-10% that only takes your risk down to 3.5% - 7%, so it’s fractional and you have to weigh that up. Personally I have chosen to refuse Tamoxifen and to try and reduce my risk of reoccurrence in other ways. I think this is a very personal choice but I would say, ask for the figures so you can make your own mind up. Don’t be pushed into anything and yes, the NHS are busy, but this is your LIFE so take up the time and take all the time you need. And when in doubt, find the healers that you trust to help guide you. My personal favourite supports have been acupuncture, massage and herbal medicine, but I’ve literally tried everything! Go with what feels right for you. You know. Trust yourself.
5. Watch your mind
This is the big one for me. I have been noticing more and more that the thoughts I have that are negative and coming from fear are manifesting in anxiety. When I get into a loop of negative thinking then that creates a certain chemistry in my body that increases adrenaline and cortisol. This chemical reaction causes pain, such as tightness in my tummy, migraines and an inability to sleep properly. The actions that come as a result of my physiology are then generally less than awesome, maybe I’m a bit shitty with my man, maybe I’m a bit short with my mum, maybe I don’t feel too social and cancel plans with my friends and thus the cycle perpetuates. So, “hold up!" (direct quote: Beyonce, Lemonade) Notice when the thoughts come and “keep scrolling”. Don’t like those thoughts? Keep scrolling (thanks Elena Brower) until you find the good ones. I keep a list on the notes on my phone and read them over and over until I feel the good chemistry. This could be something I’m worried about but I’m trying to remember the positive side or it could be how I talk to myself, instead of looking in the mirror and thinking ‘oh well, hair looks a bit crap today’, I am trying to think - ‘fucking hell, you look really great today’! It’s a practice and this is very much ongoing for me, but I think that’s all we can do. Focus a little less on going over the crap and focus a little more on building the new. How do you know when you’re doing it right? When you feel good: open, warm, calm, friendly, happy and relaxed. Remember, we are playdough, but we’re also the toddler playing with the playdough. Today, I am busy creating a warrior queen with lovely hair and an accompanying castle, with moat.