One of the hardest parts of dealing with a cancer diagnosis (or other major health issue) is not just symptoms and treatments, but the fear. When symptoms first present and diagnostic testing begins, we wait with fearful anticipation for a diagnosis. If/when a diagnosis is made, we worry about how things will unfold. Will I be OK? Will my children/family be OK? How much longer do I have? What will happen when I go? What will I miss?
It is brutal. Unfortunately, fear isn’t limited to just dealing with disease. In today’s world, there’s a lot to be fearful about: our children’s safety/well-being. Climate change. Gun violence. This is, obviously, the tip of the iceberg as we all walk through life harboring our own individual big fears. Sometimes, those fears are manageable. Other times, less so.
I almost didn’t write this post because I’m in the midst of holding one of my own big fears, and I tend to shut down when I’m facing scary uncertainty. An immediate family member of mine has been exhibiting worrisome medical symptoms for a while now, and things have been rapidly deteriorating over the last month or so. They are in the midst of a flurry of diagnostic testing, and I find myself back in that old familiar place of all-consuming fear. Obsessively Googling symptoms (I don’t know why I do this to myself), trying to figure out what’s wrong, landing (frequently) on the same scary conclusions on what the testing will eventually tell us. Worrying about what will happen if the results aren’t good.
I haven’t been sleeping well, have been cancelling most outside obligations, and - real talk - generally unraveling. I was on the phone with my Mom the other day (who is intimately acquainted with my obsessive tendencies), and she plainly told me, “Lauren, you have to figure out how to hold your fear.”
Holding fear = tolerating uncertainty. Even typing those words brings tears to my eyes because it feels truly impossible at times. Fear can intercept life at every turn if you let it, stealing moments that should be joyful or peaceful or blissfully ordinary. How can you prevent it from taking over when the stakes are so high?
What I’ve come to realize over the last few years, most notably during the height of my own medical crisis, was that no one can remove fearful situations from life. There are never any absolute guarantees about anything. However, there are things we can do to survive life’s brutal parts. While I’m very much still a work in progress (read: often a mess trying my best), this is what helps me most:
-Releasing outcomes to a higher power. You don’t have to be religious to do this. I’m personally going through a bit of a spiritual journey right now, and don’t identify with any one particular religion or belief system. However, I do believe in a greater power, something bigger than us, and I’d like to think that this thing - whether it be God, the Universe, something else - is guiding everything in our lives for our greatest good and it’s OK to take our hands off the steering wheel sometimes. We have to trust in the way that life unfolds, and know that it’s all for a good reason. In full disclosure, I don’t buy this 100% of the time (it’s nearly impossible to “trust in a higher power” and/or find a silver lining when someone shoots up an elementary school), but I try to have faith when it comes to most hard things in my life. It’s all happening for a reason; there is some lesson to be learned, or something to be gained from most challenging things in life.
-You will rise to the occasion. Somehow, this is true - you end up being to handle and get though things that you never thought you’d be able to endure. We have incredible survival instincts, and you don’t know that they’re there until they are put to the test. We are stronger and more resilient than we realize, and we somehow find the strength and the tools to pull through, even the we can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. One of my absolute favorite sayings from my own cancer journey is, “The only way out is through”. One foot in front of the other. Don’t think about the journey, just get through each day.
-Lean on your loved ones. Life is hard, and trying to get through things alone makes it harder. Lean freely on the people who love and care about you. I find that people really rise to the occasion and want to help, if you let them, whether it be comforting you, bringing over a meal, helping with your kids, sending you flowers. It’s OK to cry, and it’s good to voice your worries. Even if you can’t get hard reassurances, knowing that people are there for you is everything.
-Double down on self-care. The phrase “self-care” has become so diluted over the past few years, it’s hard not to read the phrase and automatically roll your eyes. I don’t mean treating yourself to a massage, green juice or a bubble bath (though those things are great, so have at it if you want to!). I mean caring for yourself in the most basic way: making sure you are getting adequate sleep. Making sure you are eating, and that those meals are relatively healthy. Moving your body and spending time connecting with nature. Writing down your thoughts in a journal or talking to a therapist. If you fall apart, mentally or physically, you will be less equipped to endure, both in the short and long-term, what life throws at you.