So September is Lymphoma Awareness month (amongst all of
the other awareness campaigns we are meant to keep track of nowadays – it’s
exhausting am I right?). But this week specifically is THE week we Lymphoma
types are meant to twist and shout and spread the word, and I’ve been remiss so
far -so here I go!
I think the reason why I hesitate to talk about it much
nowadays is because it is something we are told to move on from, almost from
the moment we are diagnosed we are encouraged to focus on the future, on the
remission, on the time when cancer is no longer affecting us. Sorry – for anyone
new to the blog, I should say that I am 12 years in remission from Non-Hodgkins
Lymphoma.
Which means I have been in remission/considered cured for a
long enough time now that it should be a fading memory. Of course that’s not
quite how life works, I think most cancer survivors/former patients would maybe agree with me. The truth is that during treatment your life is a
blur, a series of shocks and feeling rubbish and being very
afraid you are near death, and it’s all happening at once – so that in my case
anyway, it wasn’t until several months after treatment finished that I even
remotely began to be able to process it.
I was talking to a new friend the other day and she asked me
something that I don’t know if anyone has ever asked me before – How did I come
to terms with it? (in the aftermath). And the truth is, I didn’t do many of the
things that most cancer patients do to feel empowered/as victors in what
society insists on labelling “a battle”. I didn’t run a race or do a fundraiser
or set myself up as some sort of cancer "hero" because frankly, that idea horrified me. Also, I was freaking tired!
I wrote, which
helped, a lot, and I just took each day as it came. I did not seek therapy for two
reasons:
1. Lymphoma is still a rare enough form of cancer that the
survivor/support groups around me also included family members, looking for grief
support, a whole other bag of emotions I wasn’t prepared to think about – maybe
selfishly, but truthfully the survivor’s guilt is a real thing, and it wasn’t
something I wanted to invite more of into my life.
2. One on one therapy,
which I could have had, for free, at my local cancer charity, but again, I just
didn’t see how it would help. They couldn’t promise my cancer wouldn’t come
back or take away or truly understand any of what I had been through. Which was
maybe wrong-headed of me, but I had an experience there during treatment where a
volunteer whose husband had died of cancer cornered me and unloaded HER cancer
experience onto me, someone right in the middle of it. And sorry, but it just
didn’t help me at all – I’m very sorry for anyone who has been through that,
but it’s not my experience.
So in typical me form I do think I have been a bit
isolationist in dealing with it. But in truth, that is something that most
cancer patients know to be true from the moment of diagnosis – you are alone in
this fight – yes, you may have the support of loved ones, but you alone must
find a way to get through it and take your medicine even when it is the last
thing you want to do.
I think I have also shirked a bit from the survivor brother
and sisterhood because I don’t really love the whole “We are the victorious people!”
vibe, because I do think that it is kind of insensitive. Yes, go us, we went
through very difficult times to be in remission, but it’s the luck of the draw
frankly – far nobler and better people than I have succumbed to this horrible
disease, and I guess some part of me feels like if we continuously put forth
survivors as victors and people who die as having “lost a battle” it just re-enforces
many misconceptions about this disease to society as a whole.
Good, strong,
smart, valiant people die from cancer every damn day. Is that something fun to
think about? No, but if we continually gloss over it I think cancer
begins to seem, to those who haven’t experienced it, somehow less vitally important, less like
something that needs to be our number one priority in finding a cure.
Those of us who “survived”
are not special, or stronger, or better, than those who didn’t. We are just
damn lucky is all (by the way the Salon columnist and author Mary Beth Williams
has written numerous eloquent pieces on this very subject, including her memoir which I need to get my grubby paws on stat!). I hope I haven’t subconsciously
thieved (much!) from her because I read her writing about cancer often, because
she is an inspiring truth teller on this subject, which is rare.
And for me, personally, more times than I can count I have
been asked what "caused" my cancer. The secret implication being I must have had
some fault, some history or unhealthy behaviour or SOMETHING, because the mere
fact that a (non-smoking, vegetarian for much of my early life) healthy 28 year
old woman can get a cancer that kills half of everyone who gets it is freaking
terrifying...I must have done something to deserve it, to manifest it, because we humans are like totally in control of cancer with our energy and toxins and blueberries and blah blah blah (Yeah don't get me started on that stuff either! ;-0).
There is in fact, no cause, not for my sub-type*, no known cause for
most types of Lymphoma in fact. Which, for a disease that is on the increase, should be
paid more attention to, and fought and campaigned harder for, because unlike more high
profile cancer campaigns (Breast Cancer, for one), our survival statistics
are not so hot. Lymphoma can strike the very young, the very old, male or
female, it does not discriminate. In short, it can happen to absolutely anyone,
and I’m sorry if that’s scary, but maybe we need to wake up and start fighting
for more targeted cancer research, because
unfortunately it’s not going anywhere.
“Over the last decade, non-Hodgkin lymphoma
incidence rates have increased by almost a fifth (18%) in the UK, with a
similar increase in males (18%) and females (17%). Most NHL cases are diagnosed
at a late stage. 1 in 48 men and 1 in 58 women will be diagnosed with NHL (all
subtypes combined) during their lifetime.” – Cancer Research U.K.
Education is key, especially in getting diagnosed. I fought an almost three month
long battle to be taken seriously despite very visible symptoms of swelling in
my upper torso, a common symptom of my admittedly less common form of NHL. It
took me going into a g.p.’s office and pitching a (genuine) hysterical fit
after two months of being fobbed off, and while of course I am grateful for the
excellent care I eventually received, no one should have to go through that to
get a diagnosis, and it is still happening to younger patients especially. It’s
simply not good enough.
(gets off soap box….)
Sorry, I always get passionate when I talk
about this, which is maybe why I don’t do it as often as I should,
because it’s honestly frustrating as hell that we are not doing much better now than we
were 12 years ago when it comes to this stuff.
So yes, I do think awareness of Lymphoma is important, for ALL of
us. We all need to be a little bit better informed about our bodies and unusual symptoms, and not be afraid of
demanding answers if we are being given the brush off, because it might be a
matter of life or death, and that is not something we can afford to leave to chance.
Maybe I should sugar coat that a bit more, but take it from one who knows, it's not something you ever want to get the better of you. Both the ill and the non-ill need to be better at being aggressive and pro-active about our health, especially in the U.K., where the NHS is being marginalized and beaten down by the current and recent administrations, we need to stand up for it and for ourselves if we ever want things to get better.
More information on Lymphoma can be found at lymphoma.org
*Part of this year's awareness campaign is focusing on Lymphoma patients sharing their sub-types, because there are so many, and many of us are a bit confused about what they mean. I didn't want to go into too much detail about mine as this post is already long enough!
I just have hugs.
ReplyDeletei've never had to deal with anything like this :( personally i like they way you managed it, instead of the rah-rah type deal, but maybe that's because i'm an introvert.
ReplyDeletei have typed a lot of things and have erased them cause i don't know what to say except i'm glad that you were tenacious in getting your treatment, and it worked out.
Thank you. ;-0 I was forced to be tenacious in a way. I actually thank the gods/whoever that my symptoms were so dramatic and hideous and weird because honestly I would have given up otherwise. Yeah it feels like every cancer survivor/person is supposed to finish treatment and become "an inspiration" who fundraises and changes the world and crap, and I mean, go them, but I do think a lot of it is a front, a mask, because anyone who says that they have "beat it" after less than two years and isn't still scared shitless is frankly lying. But obviously whatever gets people through it, I think a lot of it is about feeling "in control" somehow when it's been a weird powerless time of doing what everybody tells you to do, which sucks. Thanks for reading anyway! ;-0 x
DeleteA brave post, thank you for sharing. I can't imagine what your experience was like but I am glad you can share it. Also there is no 'right way' to be, however you feel is ok.
ReplyDeleteThanks Elinor! Xx
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