Finding the Fear

I’ve often asked myself if my reaction to this diagnosis is “normal” and wondered where the fear is.  I have felt fairly positive, hoping for the best and believing that healing will occur.  I’ve also thought about the “what if” side of things and know that regardless of what the future holds, I can cope.  That position has been easy to keep as long as I felt great and looked as I have always looked.  Then I’ve asked myself if I’m some sort of robot.

For many reasons, today was the day that fear came in and clutched my heart.   My looks have changed and my belief that I can sail through this illness has been shaken. I’m also afraid that I will die before I am ready to leave his planet. 

I’m writing this at 1:00 in the morning, the house is asleep.  I’m wide awake, I was unable to settle down in bed.  I avoided crying myself to sleep only because I got up and started writing in this journal.

For several weeks, the topic that slid into my consciousness has been the lack of fear that I feel around this whole illness.  It would seem that I should be frightened about all sorts of things, the progression of the illness, the financial implications, and the possibility of premature death.  I’ve been surprised that my feelings do not run to those things, and in fact focus more on feeling fortunate that my ability to enjoy life is intact.  I don’t get depressed, I don’t feel panic. Until now.

Those past thoughts were random, but suddenly during my walk I’d be thinking about funeral planning, banish it.  Then back to the prayer or meditation I often do on walks only to be diverted by thoughts of missing kids growing up, or who might like my jewelry and how things might otherwise be divided in my will, back to meditation.   Not only do I need to banish these thoughts, I need to effectively replace them with something else.  During my walk this morning I accomplished it by listing things I am grateful for, a trick that I use frequently when my thoughts veer to the negative.  Later I used the imagery of healthy brain tissue and at a later time, the little pac-man guys working to devour the unhealthy tissue in my body. 

We need to face and address the possibility that the outcome may not be as we wish, and not live in denial.  Writing the will, making the list of family treasures for the next owners, giving instructions to our loved ones regarding what we want near the end of our lives and beyond.  These are the preparations that all of us should be making regardless of our health status.  Preparing for death and doing whatever we can to make our families aware of what we want done both during our final days (hospice, care at home or in a facility) and beyond is a gift to those we love.  I encourage everyone, healthy or not, to have a durable power of attorney for healthcare, to see your attorney for a will, and to talk with your family about how you want decisions made in the event that your life ends or you are no longer able to make your wishes known. 

Then again, sometimes we need to address our fears and just cry, either alone or with someone we love and trust.  This just cannot take over our lives.  I cry at times when something on TV reminds me that my health is precarious, when I hear that someone else has a diagnosis that they will be forced to battle, when I see someone much older than I am enjoying life.  I wonder if I will survive to do the same.  To not do these things is to live in denial.  To attempt to push out the concerns totally is not the answer, we need to accept the fear and live with it in balance with our hopes and perhaps beliefs in a positive outcome.

What is not healthy is the obsessive processes of looking at the dark side of our futures.   Getting stuck there can only bring negative impact, in fact, studies show that those who dwell on the negative, on hopelessness, on fears are more likely to have shorter and less fulfilling lives.  We who have cancer and other terminal illnesses need to bring our focus to what we do have, the gifts of cancer.  Those relationships that are brought closer during a crisis, the ability to see the gifts of every single day, the clarity with which we see the blessings in our lives all become clearer with our focus.

Advice:  Learn how to meditate, there are lots of books and tapes available to help you with this, a yoga or meditation class might be helpful. The concentration and mantra of meditation has been shown to help train us to keep our minds clear, and also helps with alleviating anxiety.  Exercise, especially outdoor exercise helps take our minds from the negative, focus on the beauty of the outdoors.  Choose to walk or run in an area where you can appreciate the beauty of nature or lovely houses, window shop.  Cry with someone you love.  Write a journal.  If this is not enough, a good counselor is an avenue that many have found success with, a counselor who is trained to help you through the grief process to the place where you can appreciate the gifts.