Thinking Positively

There’s a dissonance between the life-threatening nature of this disease and a feeling of physical well-being. Apart from some numbness and pain in different parts of my upper arm, I feel physically very well – in fact, most of the time, especially in light of lymph node and other results, I was actually quite cheerful. I am working – not very productively – and for long periods of time, the idea that cancer and I have any relationship seems farfetched.

I am being constantly exhorted to think positively. Even David, my son the scientist who requires evidence based on established mechanisms, told me that doctors don’t fully understand why positive thinkers have better chances of survival. So what happens when a little runt of negativity leaves its corner and comes into the ring swinging (my sister Jo thought she’d survive – wham! How’d you know a cell didn’t escape and at this very moment is swimming with all its might to your bones – bam!). Flatten the runt, suggests David, and overwhelm it with positive thoughts. Not so, says Eran my meditation guru; be the queen of your domain, invite the negative thought inside, listen for as long as you want, then show it the door.

From the moment my cancer was confirmed, things moved quickly, drowning me in an emotional whirlpool as well as physically scarring me. As mentioned earlier, I was in a state of mourning for my previous life, the one that was untainted with cancer. It seemed inappropriate to sing when my life was in such dire straits so I resisted the urge to warble along with the radio. I’d been in the habit of walking up the stairs at work but now I used the elevator. I was behaving, David said, like a sick woman.

Perhaps that was the trigger – I began to emerge from the despondency and fear. It was just so much more liberating to behave normally. About a week after returning from Hillel Yaffe, I found that wafting around pitying myself was over-indulgent and rather pointless.

I suppose I can now be said to be behaving positively – I laugh, work and devote the major part of my mental resources and conversations to subjects that have absolutely nothing to do with cancer. In fact, most of the time, I’m not even really aware of it. Even my arm with its bruised tendons and nerves is less painful and more mobile with each passing day – although it’s a strange sensation, or rather lack of sensation, when trying to apply deodorant to a numb armpit.

I try to learn as much as I can about my disease through the internet, and talking with women who’ve gone through it. I have a pile of self-help books with different approaches to eating, breathing and loving. There’s a list of organizations all set to provide me with emotional, financial and physical help, should I need it. It’s a lot to process in such a short time. With such support, who wouldn’t think positively!