Last September, to my immense surprise, I was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of breast cancer. My right breast was filled with 11cm of fast-growing tumors and the cancer had already infected the lymph nodes under my arm.
My first reactions were panic, terror, and despair. I was convinced that my cancer had metastasized to my liver, bones, lungs, or brain, and that I would die, leaving behind my husband and teenage children.
For the worst two weeks of my life I waited for test results while looking for signs that my cancer had spread. Miraculously, he hadn’t. That meant I could heal and my doctors were optimistic.
My treatment has so far included eight cycles of chemotherapy with six different drugs, a double mastectomy and reconstruction with implants, removal of nine lymph nodes, injections of drugs to target the remaining cancer cells circulating in my body, a more than 15 daily sessions. radiotherapy. I’m not done yet.
But thanks to my amazing NHS medical team and the work of brilliant scientists, everything has proved amazingly successful. When I had my mastectomy on March 9, there were no detectable live cancer cells in my body. While that doesn’t mean my cancer can’t return, it drastically reduces the risk.
It has been a rough journey. I have scars physically, almost a heavier stone thanks to pre-chemo steroids and frankly exhausted. But for all that people insist on being “devastated” and “traumatized,” I’m not.
I don’t feel damaged or broken either. In fact, I’ve been feeling positive about Pollyanna-ish practically since the day I discovered that my cancer was treatable. I am more optimistic, more patient, and in many ways my life is better than it was before I was diagnosed. The secret? I’ve learned a lot about what happiness is and how to bring more into my life.
I haven’t always been able to handle my emotions perfectly – there were a couple of spectacular blows when I let myself get too stressed – but I’ve learned.
I do not recommend developing highly aggressive cancer to discover this benefit, and I need to point out that a sunny arrangement does not prevent cancer or make treatment more successful. But it makes my day-to-day life more enjoyable. These are the eight lessons of happiness that cancer has taught me. Some of them may work for you. And the good news is that you don’t have to have a life-threatening illness to try them.
I’ve learned what really makes me happy
You’d think at 58 you’d already know what made me feel good, right? After all, what kind of idiot gets to the middle of life without knowing exactly what food, books, art, movies, and hobbies they really like? Well, me, to begin with. To keep my demons at bay, I decided to pay more attention to how I really felt during my daily activities. I discovered that I often relied on habit, obsolete ideas of myself, comfort, guilt, or obligation to guide my daily choices.
Examples? I often made myself a green smoothie for breakfast because it was “healthy”. But did I enjoy it? No, not really. Good jam and butter on too much mother toast with a cup of very hot tea? This is a completely different matter. Starting the day with this, for me, an intensely enjoyable breakfast was a victory of early and easy happiness.
The key to learning what you love, at any age, is to start paying close attention to your experiences and how they make you feel.
These can be great things, for sure, like a once-in-a-lifetime vacation. But my experience suggests that it is the culmination of small pleasures that often add up to a happier life. If you had asked me before I started all this, I would have said that my favorite art form was French Impressionism. When I visited the Louvre as a teenager, these blurry images of the sun left me speechless. But during my treatment, I started the habit of visiting galleries with my teenage daughter. To my surprise, we got the most satisfaction from the medieval galleries, enjoying the recognizable human characters painted vividly.
Other top joys include Fortnum’s perfume department and walking my dog through the park and paying close attention to the change of season – I found that I expected the wisteria to bloom as a child waits for Christmas. I made appointments to listen to The Archers Omnibus and wore lipstick every day. When trying new things, or returning to old pleasures, pay attention to how you feel.
I have healed – and prioritized – my social life
For 84 years, Harvard University in the United States has been conducting its study on adult development, looking for ways to lead healthy, happy lives.
And what the researchers found was that close relationships, rather than money or fame, are what make people happy. They are better predictors of long, happy lives than class, IQ, genes, or cholesterol levels.
The first people I talked to about my diagnosis, after my husband, were my two older friends. Then I told a close group of friends in a WhatsApp group. Honestly, I can say that these friends, and others, have done a million times better. They took me to lunch and to the theater, they sent me flowers, waltzes for sweets and takeaways … And they made me laugh every day. So, even when I’m tired or stuffed in treatment, I’ve tried to make time to see or talk to them, even if it’s just for coffee or to exchange funny texts about everything from our dogs to the Rooney / Vardy defamation. Box.
Also, my kids have dazzled me with their ability to cope with my news. Teenagers have bad press, but they can be the best company. They are fun, passionate and often see the world in a refreshing and different way.
I haven’t always been as much as I would have liked, but cancer has given me a much greater appreciation for the people I love. I am grateful for that.
I can ward off useless emotions
A stiff upper lip sounds terribly old-fashioned. So does an attitude of “keep calm and keep going.” Repressing your feelings is considered terribly harmful. However, the Harvard team itself found that “self-regulation involves suppressing negative emotions such as self-hatred, refocusing on the positive aspects of yourself, and rethinking negative situations to see opportunities.” I didn’t know it as I went through the treatment, but I instinctively discovered that I felt better when, instead of being overwhelmed by useless feelings, I had an interested but detached view of my emotions.
If I noticed that I was getting morbid or angry, I made a deliberate attempt to change course. Instead of thinking, for example, of the risk of dying one in 10, I would focus on the nine out of 10 chances of living to a mature old age. Another session in the chemo chair turned into another glorious opportunity to hit cancer in the head, as well as a chance to gossip with the woman in the next bay over a cup of tea.
It is not always possible or healthy to avoid sadness or worry, but the more kindly but passionately I watched my emotions and rethought my situation as positive, the less overwhelmed I felt and the faster those emotions faded.
Don’t let stress overwhelm you
I had always considered having a stressful life as part of my identity. “How are you?” people would ask. “Oh, you know, busy, busy!” Work deadlines, homework, and some complicated care responsibilities added to my stress most of the time. But when cancer came into my life, I knew I just had to reduce the background stress, but it would let me go mentally. I described it to my friends as feeling like a glass full of water to the brim. Everything goes well until another drop touches the glass, and then there is water everywhere. So if I can’t get some water out right away by adding stress-reducing activities, such as doing yoga or meeting a friend, I need to be careful to avoid dripping and dripping stress. In the end, managing stress is a bit like messing up your underwear drawer.
I stopped worrying so much about what my house was like, I learned to say no without guilt, I handed over the kitchen to my dear husband, and I deleted text messages and emails asking for too much information.
Tip: If you regularly accept invitations or accept obligations to please others, but find that they leave you stressed, exhausted, or resentful, it’s time to stop them, or at least ration them. Cancer taught me to be selfish and I am a better person for that.
Plan for joy
Living in the present is great, but anticipation, in my experience, is even better. I often planned and reserved future sweets while connected to chemotherapy drip. It could be an exhibition, a trip to The Nutcracker for Christmas, or a visit to see a friend’s new kitten. Not only was it a joy to think about a series of future pleasures, but each one helped distract me from both the multitude of less pleasant quotes that filled my diary and any fatal thoughts of five or ten survival statistics. years.
I also tried to celebrate every good medical result and score the end of a treatment phase with something special. The end of radiation therapy last week was marked by a tapas lunch with my husband, a trip to the beach and booking lunch and shopping with a friend. I am currently planning a trip to the spa to restore my battered body.
Don’t growl
Complaining is a toxic habit. I never realized before I got cancer how many people murmur. A few drops of rain or a cold are treated like a catastrophe. Wait a few minutes for the waiter to bring you a menu? Disaster!
Social media is intensifying this habit. I’ve even seen people lament the inconvenience of decorating their second home. Gratitude has a bad reputation, and I can see why marketing gratitude through magazines and apps discourages people.
But what about the good old fashioned way …