Fear

Seeing how I manage since my diagnosis, friends generally said I’m a strong person. I didn't pretend to be strong. I am the way I am because I’m at peace with it. But I’m not fearless. There were moments when the fear was very real. I’m not referring to the kind of fear that suggests immediate danger to our personal safety. I've learned that the best way to deal with fear (or any negative emotion), is to face it. That means to acknowledge its existence and not running away from it. Easier said than done. Being in fear is very uncomfortable. We feel not in control. There are uncertainties. We imagine all the possibilities that freak us out even more.

Sometimes we don’t realize we are trying to run away. Diverting our attention, reacting in anger, denial – these are some of our favourite escape mechanisms from fear. From past experience, they only give temporary relief, if any at all.

I experienced different phases of fear since the first biopsy. Sometimes it was right in my face that it suffocated me or it could build up subtly and crept in when my level of awareness was low. Since fear and inner peace cannot coexist and the latter is very important to me, I have to use whatever skills I have to deal with my fear.

As much as I don’t like its visit, I know I can’t keep it at bay. It’s like one of those annoying, nosy, know-it-all, ranks on the top of the family hierarchy relatives who you are obliged to let into your house. So the best way live with it is to get to know them and find ways to disarm them.

My fear happened in different phases. After having it as my frequent guest and seen how I react in each phase, I gained some insight into fear management. It will be my tool when I feel its presence, and to be improved as I work on them.

     (a)  Be aware that past experience and information we picked up randomly form our perception. When we   hear the big word CANCER, the images that come to the mind are of patients in pain and long intensive treatments with no guaranteed success. Life would take a drastic change to a bitter struggle to live as long as they can. The same goes for chemotherapy. I dreaded chemo (but it happened anyway) because of the horror stories I heard about it like cancer patients died of the side effects from chemo, not the cancer. I remember vividly a scene from the movie Dying Young where male character vomited violently after his chemo.

     

         Know this and get the facts right. People tend to exaggerate stories, possibly to make it more impressive or out of the necessity to drive home a point. Worse goes for stuff we see on tv and movies. Find out from the correct sources. Listen objectively. The information that helped me most was from those who had gone through the same experience and the doctors. They put things in perspective and a more positive outlook for me. I had a better grasp of how things would evolve and feel more in control. It also helps to stay out of negative people and absorb as much positive stories as possible during this time.

     (b)  Next is the fear of an impending event, something inevitable.  During the times leading to my post-surgery biopsy results and first chemotherapy session, fear would strike me in the middle of my sleep (be it during a nap or at night). While I have done my homework on what to expect, I still have that underlying fear of how it would actually turn out.  

     

          And I was convinced yet again that the best way to overcome is always is to go through it. Most of the time it’s our projection of how things will be that scares the s**t out of us. I didn’t die of shock on hearing my biopsy result although certain part of the news caused some fear due to reason as in (a.) above.   I just went through my second chemo session. The level of physical discomfort was like what was described to me – uncomfortable but bearable. Emotionally, it wasn’t even half as difficult as enduring the ordeal from speculating how hard it is going to be. 

         Just do it. The act itself dispels fear for we can only concentrate on one thing at a time. Pay attention on what we do and experience just as it is. Nothing more, nothing less. Stop speculating and stay in the present moment. I can promise that it is not fearful as we thought. The bonus is it might have an irreversible gut boosting effect. You’ll emerge from it a more courageous person.

    (c)   Now that I’m at peace with the treatment, another lesson presents itself -- the fear of recurrence (relapse) in the future, and death. It is partly the result of reading up too much on the internet. 

         This is fear of a possibility. Although I've been exposed to contemplation of death in my spiritual practice and even attended courses about it, it was never felt so real like this time. This is by far the closest I've come face to face with death. It may sound ridiculous but that shows just how farsighted I am. 

         I’m uncomfortable with it. I know I’m letting it affects my emotional quality for something that might not happen at all. There’s a thing with fear. We’ll get tired of being scared after some time. It leads us to look deeply into the cause the fear. Since it is just a possibility, it’s really silly to be scared. But the paradox is, uncertainty is the very reason for the fear. 

    

           Then it dawn on me that it is just a matter of choice. Given the time I have (which nobody will know how much), I can either choose to nourish my body and soul or to live in fear. While the future is unpredictable, it will be definitely be influenced by what we do NOW. Do what is within our control and live by it. Live well and live fully. If what has to happen really happens, refer to (a) and (b) for guidance.

Throughout my relationship with fear, I benefit greatly from the practice of mindfulness. This is a practice in Buddhism (but is not exclusively practiced by the Buddhists) taught through meditation. One learns to see things as they are, experience the phenomenon at the present moment, without judgment and resistance.

The most fearful thing is fear itself. Most of the time, we are crippled by fear instead of what is actually happening. The key is, don’t fear fear. The more we get to understand it, the better we can manage it.

No Complaints

A friend who learns of my condition after my first chemo asked me how I feel. I know she meant emotionally. My reply to her was summarized into simply, “I have more positive than negative emotions.” From the mammogram results to the biopsy and now after the first chemo, I have waves of love and gratitude washing over me.

It probably sounds paradoxical that I felt a deep sense of gratitude after being diagnosed with cancer and having to go through surgery followed by a list of treatments. Life has its ups and downs. My “down” has been cushioned by many wonderful blessings that make the fall less painful.

I’m grateful that it comes at this time of my life when I know what self-love is. It is a feeling of being loved unconditionally, regardless of who I am and whatever situation I’m in. I feel whole and safe. It’s as if this someone who is ever loving, forgiving and wise is always there for me, assuring that I’m good enough. The feeling is profoundly comforting. It empowers me in times of doubt, making me love myself even more for having the courage to face the challenges despite my fears.

I’m grateful that I’m loved and surrounded by supportive family members and friends. I’ve said this many times and can’t say it enough – I feel very loved and blessed to have you all in my life. To my mum, 很感谢你对我无微不至的照顾。看到你那么辛苦让我感到有一点内疚。To my sis who is there for me throughout the whole journey, I’m blessed to have you as my sis. Both of you make me a very proud daughter and sister.  To all my friends, words can’t describe how overwhelmed I am by the love and care showered on me since I broke the news. Thanks for letting me know I’m not alone in this. You’ll never know how important you are to your loved ones or they are to you until things happen. I’m overdosed with love that I have so much of it to give away. Love you all.

I’m grateful that I have a healthy body to carry me through the surgery and chemotherapy. Thanks to regular exercise and home cooked food (again, credits to my mum), my immune system is fairly strong.  Medical check-ups have always shown a clean bill of health. I was whisked into the operation theatre after taking the supplement from my friends that is supposed to speed up my recovery. I hardly suffered any post-surgery pain.  The next challenge is chemotherapy. My cancer was serendipitously diagnosed in October, a month in which cancer-related awareness campaign and activities abound.  A thoughtful friend who showed me a newspaper cutting of a qigong group known for its track record with cancer survivors brought me to this practice, in time to learn some basic moves in preparation for the chemo.  At the same time, mum worked on putting some extra pounds on me.  Armed with a positive mindset and backed by a big cheering team, I went for the first chemo one month after the surgery. The first three days was nauseous and tiring. I felt like throwing up all the time and spent most of the day lying on the couch panting. I had no appetite but still patiently chewed and swallowed my food. The mere sight of food on my favourite Travel and Living Channel triggered the urge to puke. But I was back on my feet on the fourth day. On Day 6, I was feeling just like before the chemo. Thankfully, it was bearable.

I’m grateful that the cancer was discovered at an early stage. It hadn’t spread. My breast surgeon was very reassuring. I have no doubt that I’m in good hands and trusted her when she said the survival rate is very high. It is a wake-up call for me to not take health for granted. Moving forward, it will only get better. I’m committed to lead a healthy life – physically, mentally and spiritually.

I’m grateful that I’m grateful. To know and live in gratitude is one of the highest blessings. All these, make me feel I have no right to think that being diagnosed with this cancer is unfortunate. What more can I complain?

A Birthday Surprise

If you believe that the purpose of our lives is to learn and evolve, it has its own intelligent way of presenting its lessons and set you up for a test when it thinks you are ready to ascend to the next level. Being diagnosed with cancer is one of those tests. On 2^nd October, the day after my 42^nd birthday it came unannounced. Mammogram and ultrasound results showed a lump highly suggestive of malignancy. Strange enough, I wasn’t panic and intend to go ahead with my plan for that day – lunch followed by a movie – until a friend literally forced me to set an appointment with a breast surgeon immediately. I’m supposed to report to her on my procrastination (knowing it is something I sometimes resort to on things I don’t like doing). So I went for the appointment and biopsy the next day. Doctor said it looked like either pre-cancer (and pray that it is) or early stage, and went on to explain the possible treatments and that the survival rate for such cases in very high. But I have to wait two to three working days for the biopsy results. That happened to be over a weekend. The wait was torturing. 

Balancing between hoping for the best and preparing for the worst was a challenge. The former sounds like a denial and that I’d have to deal with the disappointment if it’s not what I’ve hoped for while the latter is against the Law of Attraction (I soon realize that’s not the right way it is used) *sigh*.  It came to a point that I simply surrender, having faith that whatever happens it is for my highest good. That gave instant relief. It is also at this point that I learned how important it is to one’s feelings acknowledged.  I felt irritated when someone said, “Aiya, don’t worry la. I think it’s not cancer.”  I know they meant well but it doesn’t help having my feeling denied (I can’t help feeling belittled).

On the day of the verdict, I waited with my sister for about two hours and try to meditate on my anxiety. I kept telling myself whatever I’d hear is just information that will decide the next course of action, to put it very rationally. The first thing the doctor said was, “The result is not very good”. I felt my heart plummeted to the bottom of my gut. But I regained my composure soon enough. It’s Stage 2. The surgery (lumpectomy) was fixed on four days later. Biopsy result from the surgery will determine the treatments that will follow. The doctor again assured us that breast cancer of early stages have high recovery rate. Stepping out of the doctor’s room, I was more relieved than when I went in. I have no doubt that this cancer will not take my life and what lies ahead. Things were certain. Now I can tell with certainty that I’m a creature that hates uncertainty. But isn’t life uncertain? That day, impermanence came knocking to remind me.

How did I take it? Pretty cool, I think. Having been around for 42 years and the skills I picked up along the way prepared me for this. I have gone beyond the “Why me!’ stage. No issue with acceptance.  I have no anger or sadness in me. I have always believed that things happen for a purpose. This is another lesson in my life syllabus.  Might have as well embrace it courageously. It is easier said than done. But you know what? It is the courage to embrace that empowers me. And the courage comes from?  Self love.

But it’s impossible to be totally unaffected. First, is the worry whether I’ll be strong enough to cope with treatments that might follow. The idea of having of going through chemotherapy scares the heck out of me. Second is dealing with the sudden change.  I have to drop all my work, change my diet and lifestyle. The focus now would be to prepare for the surgery, go through the paperwork for insurance coverage (my agent cum good friend have been tremendously helpful), plan my menu and sleep early. The biggest adjustment of all is getting used to the label, cancer patient.

Throughout the few days leading to the surgery, I kept forgetting there’s cancer tumor in me because I felt perfectly healthy. Hey, I just finished an 8km-marathon a month ago! Okay, I actually walked most of the time. I don’t feel sick at all. Except for some bones heard cracking while climbing the stairs, my medical reports were clean. I do yoga and jungle trekking every week.  It’s hard to internalize the fact that I’m a patient. It’s not a denial but the label is inconsistent with what I’m experiencing. Labeling is indeed unhealthy and a distortion to one’s emotional quality. A more objective description of my condition should be a healthy person with a cancer tumor found in her body that needs to be removed or else, it would be life threatening.

Since I spent the days at home eating home cooked meals and having nothing else to do, some thoughts will inevitably go through my mind like, “Is this bad karma ripening?” True. What we experience now is a result of something we did in the past. The Law of Karma is more than just settling old debts. That’s deterministic. I believe all the universal laws are meant for the mortals to learn. I would like to think of it as a calling to learn from the experience what we haven’t fully comprehended in the past. What happen to us physically is universal to everyone but the reactions may differ. If you are at peace with what is, there’s no such thing as bad or good karma ripening. It’s just cause and effect. Congratulations! You’re almost there. For those who react with bitterness or resistance, the lesson is presenting itself yet again. The outcome can either be (1) you grow from it or (2) you create more bitterness and plant the seed for another lesson in the future.