The “Solo Journey” of Cancer

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This post asked the question, Are You Still Struggling with the Loneliness of Life After Cancer? It ran on October 18, 2011, and sparked a real conversation in the comment section about the “solo journey” of cancer: 

For almost 18 wonderful years, I’ve had the privilege of building a close relationship with my daughter. Whether in person, or by phone or text, we like to talk about everything and anything. Today she texted me to say how much she missed her friend who just transferred to another school. She was “lonely” and “bored” without her.

My response: “Think relaxing thoughts. Be your own best friend. You have to be alone sometimes.”

Her response: “Yeah, I actually tell myself that a lot cuz of eighth grade when I didn’t have friends and that’s what you told me.”

My response:  “What did I say?”

Her response: “That I have to be okay with being by myself sometimes.”

Unlike solitude, which we choose, loneliness is a force we have to work with or risk allowing it to swallow us up. I guess I made a point to teach my daughter about being okay with it once and a while because of experiences in my life.

I grew up in a small Cape Cod house with two parents and eight brothers and sisters. Despite the obvious noise and activity, I often felt alone, especially during my teenage years. I was the oldest, a girl (followed in birth order by four brothers) and my youngest sibling was 14 years younger than me. I often existed in a parallel universe very different from the one inhabited by my siblings.

In my adult life, the most lonely experiences accompanied birth and cancer. The day my daughter was born, I was ill all day and ended up in the hospital severely dehydrated. Dehydration led to labor and she was born at 11:46 p.m. Although I was probably food poisoned, my doctor couldn’t rule out infection. To protect my newborn, I wasn’t allowed to touch or hold her. Instead, I spent the night in a room, alone, without my new baby or my husband (who I encouraged to go home to rest.) To this day, almost 18 years later, I remember laying there and thinking, “This certainly didn’t go as planned.” I expected to meet my daughter and have her with me. Instead, my new family was separated and I was alone.

The second experience came after my mastectomy for breast cancer. After six and a half months of diagnostic tests, doctors visits, and finally my surgery, I was bowled over by the emotional impact of it all. My family, so very relieved that I was alive, was happy to move on and put the whole cancer thing behind them. I found myself again living in a parallel universe very much apart from my family. It was a horribly lonely place to be.

The cancer-induced loneliness lasted an entire summer. My wonderful oncology therapist helped me tremendously by letting me express my sadness and building anger. With her help, I was eventually able to make my family understand that I needed them to be where I was – that cancer was not yet over for me.

Life teaches us that we have to handle being by ourselves sometimes. It’s an important lesson to learn, but cancer-induced loneliness is bigger than that and not something we should accept as another loss of cancer. If you are finding yourself still struggling after treatment, while others around you are only too happy to put your cancer behind them, get support anywhere you can. Seek out others who understand how you feel and with whom you can share your feelings. My therapist helped me carry the overwhelming weight of my loneliness that summer. I shudder to think what would have happened if I had been forced to carry it alone.

Have you or are you still dealing with the loneliness of life after cancer? What has helped you deal with it?

Survival > Existence,

Debbie

Image courtesy of Artúr Herczeg

Comments

Barbara's picture

loneliness

During my cancer treatment, I wasn’t particularly lonely because I was so involved with various doctors’ appointments, treatments,visits, phone calls, e-mails, etc. However, after treatment I wasn’t able to go back to teaching (which I had looked forward to) because of many side effects of chemo, and I found myself very lonely. However, in the last year, I have become involved in volunteer work at Overlook Hospital, the Connection, Pathways, and have been taking various classes. I also peruse the local newspaper daily and look for interesting activities and events. My favorite activity is going out to lunch with new and old friends. (I’m having lunch today with a former student.) So, there is something interesting and worthwhile on my calendar every day, and if I’m out and about with people I like and respect, I find myself not lonely at all and enjoy the time I’m home by myself all the more. Volunteering is a great cure for loneliness – a win-win

Debbie's picture

Thanks Barbara for the Great Suggestions!

Barbara:

Thanks for sharing such great suggestions for combatting loneliness. I agree that volunteering is a great way to cure loneliness and give back. Truly a win-win situation for everyone involved!

Survival > Existence,

Debbie

 

 

Nancy's Point's picture

Hi Debbie,

Hi Debbie,
I think after a cancer diagnosis, there is always a certain amount of lingering “alone-ness,” at least to some degree and at certain times. During chemo I read somewhere something along the lines of – probably paraphrasing here – You’re not alone in anything, but yet in everything you are. Made perfect sense to me then and still does. Thanks for a thought-provoking post.

Debbie's picture

I Completely Get That

Hi Nancy:

I totally get that. I’ve experienced aloneness many times. In the end, all we have are our own perceptions which we can never really share. But, and this is a big but, the more we try to share, the less alone we feel.

Survival > Existence,

Debbie

 

 

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