by Martin Young, MBChB, FCS(SA)
Dear “Robin,”
Nothing in my career in medicine has prepared me for being a
friend to someone with such a terrible disease.
As a doctor I dispense advice on a daily basis, but those
interactions remain strangely impersonal. With
you,
cancer has invaded our inner
circle, and we all share your shock and despair.
No one can know exactly what it feels like to be facing serious
cancer, unless they have been through it
themselves. Your doctors will not know, the rest
of your family will not know, neither will your
friends. So please forgive us if we do not
understand or get things wrong. It is as much a
learning process for us as it is for you.
But there is a vast resource out there of people fighting the
same disease who do know what you are going through now and will
have to battle in the future, and I suggest you get in touch with
them. ACOR.org is a good
starting point. You will find a wealth of
knowledge here that most of your doctors will not have at their
fingertips. The contributors do so voluntarily,
are available all the time, know all the latest advances in
treatment, and will not fob you off when you ask difficult or
“silly” questions. These folk can become friends
together in crisis in a way that we cannot be.
Use them. I know they will welcome you with open
arms.
Get to know your disease from reputable
sources. Being forewarned is being
forearmed. You can react to new situations
earlier, giving your doctors better chance of helping you through
crises.
You probably have already looked at the survival statistics of
your cancer. I agree they are
frightening. But figures alone do not tell the
whole story. No one knows exactly what is going
to happen with you. Don’t let the figures get you
down. Take one day at a time while you fight this
disease, be grateful for each completed day, look forward to the
next one. Remain positive. Your
state of mind alone can make the difference in being in the
percentage of people who survive.
If I had your diagnosis, this is what I would do.
I would organize my life while I am still fit, making sure my
will and business dealings are all sorted out so that I do not need
to worry about difficult decisions while I am unwell.
I would prepare letters or video presentations for my kids for
important events in their lives –
graduations, 21st birthday parties,
weddings. At the same time, I would make it my
goal to try to be there for the earliest
celebrations. Having goals like that would help
me push through the rough times. If not, I would
be there in person for them with a message as real at the time as
at the day it is recorded. I know my family would
be fine – my friends and other people important to me would make
certain of that.
I would keep a journal, noting my fears, angers, insecurities,
tribulations and triumphs. I would record my
goals here, and celebrate each one as it is
reached. I would go back to the earlier records
regularly and see how far I have come, and how my responses to the
disease have changed.
I would do the things I have always wanted to do while I am
able. Skydive, bungy jump, go on a
cruise. Start writing a book.
Stop putting off doing things that seemed too
selfish. Live my life a bit more, but involve my
family so that we create memories together. I
would make my marriage the best that I could with whatever time I
have left.
I would answer to the best of my ability any questions I have
about life, death and spirituality, seeking help and advice where I
need it.
And then I would get on with my life, living it as normally as I
could.
Robin, cancer does not define you. You are not
your disease. It may take its toll, but there is
no shame in it, no reason to hide.
I do know this. Many people fighting serious
disease live more complete and meaningful lives with the time they
have left than people who live to old age. They leave a legacy
behind that we all should learn from and try to
copy. I know you will do the same.
With love,
Martin
Martin Young is an otolaryngologist and founder and
CEO of ConsentCare.