How I Navigated Through My Initial Cancer Diagnosis
I was terrified when I received a confirmed cancer diagnosis for Stage 2B breast cancer in 2011. Nothing had prepared me for this.
Like a well-oiled car, I was having a great ride in my life and everything felt right – in place. If I was on an amazing race, I was most definitely going at a great pace and checking off all the right boxes. Everything was running smoothly. There were no signs of being unwell or any visible symptoms. I was just busy and tired from the daily rush, but satisfied and fulfilled. I seemed to be running high on adrenaline to deliver the projects I was working on and then going home to be with my family. Best of all, there were celebratory moments which made everything seem right and worthwhile. I was reaping the fruits of my labour: a second pregnancy and a promotion at work.
Overnight, without warning, my world crashed. I was diagnosed with Stage 2B breast cancer. I lost my career, my hair, my direction in life … for a while. This was what took place right after I received the shocking news. Read on to find out how I navigated through the initial cancer diagnosis and my project, “Live. Treasure. Fight!!!”
Hospital visits, hospital visits, hospital visits
My busy days of shuffling between home and work were unceremoniously replaced with hospital visits, hospital visits and hospital visits, just like that. No checking against my schedule or anything. No room for negotiation or any consideration. And just like that, I was introduced to a whole new dimension of the hospital I had never come close to before. For the first time, I heard unfamiliar medical jargon, medical names and procedures. I was told a biopsy had to be done. I was briefed by the breast surgeon. As I prepared for the procedure, I started shivering – the room was cold. The nurse gave me a blanket but it didn’t seem to help. I just kept shivering as my world suddenly became a whirlwind. The next three weeks were spent in a world of uncertainties and the unknown. I was meeting doctors to discuss and evaluate medical procedures and treatment options, and having cross-consultations with the obstetrician to contemplate the decisions to be made in view of my pregnancy. There was an avalanche of new information to digest and understand, and decisions to make – all within the span of three weeks.Find the right channel of communication and support
By this time, I felt like I was in the game room of “Escape”. The goal of the game is to find the clues, complete the mission and escape before you run out of time. And that was the situation I was in. There was no time to waste – amidst the chaos and madness, as I trudged through some days dealing with the devastation, I felt the need to find the right clues to help me make rational and sound decisions to solve the puzzle. I could crumble and give up. But I did not want to. This mission was the only thing in my mind as I raced against time, to fight for my life and my chance to beat cancer for myself, my loved ones and my future. While my family rallied behind me, I had to stay focused on my project, “Live. Treasure. Fight!!!”I had three pillars of support. I had my family and loved ones, who gave me the purpose to live and reason to fight this battle. They are my treasures. My second pillar of support was a team of “players” that I strategically assembled to help me strategise and fight this battle. Together, we met doctors who offered their medical opinions and treatment plans. We contemplated, pondered and made decisions on the next steps and timeline. Finally, I had my team of “motivators” who were winners of their own battles – cancer survivors and confidantes. They offered invaluable support and insight into the game and how they won their own game of “Escape”. Their input was priceless, and I basked in their strength as I grew my own to fight and win my own battle.
Believe in the plan and go with the flow
Project “Live. Treasure. Fight!!!” was on a roll and the key thing to do next was to believe in the plan and go with the flow, with an attitude of embracing the fear, conquering the unknown and taking things one step at a time. Once I had finalised the game plan, I decided to trust the system and take the plunge. It was easy to lose focus or the strength to continue with so much going on. Despite the insecurities, I knew I had to stay focused and stick to the game. I felt truly humbled and vulnerable. What helped was that I didn’t hold on to any resentment over what was happening to me. Instead of crumbling and struggling to hold on to the fallen pieces of my life (what I had taken for granted), I picked up each piece to rebuild my life. From scratch, even if that was what it took.
From this truly humbling life experience, I have learnt many valuable lessons. Back to thinking of my life as a well-oiled car: I felt like I had been hit by a truck! How ironic was it that I had signed up for an annual car-service package but not an annual health-screening package. Every year, my calendar prompts me when I am due to book the car-servicing appointment. But I have learnt to prioritise my own self-care and health too. The annual health-screening has to be on my calendar, just like the car-service appointment. Fair and sensible, don’t you think?
I have also learnt that unexpected circumstances impart valuable lessons of life. However, it can be painful and lonely to be on this journey alone, even for the fittest and most strong-willed person. Instead of shouldering the whole burden alone, I am very thankful that I found my three pillars of support. I could turn to them knowing that I was not on this journey alone and, more importantly, it was never a battle I had to win for myself. There are so many reasons to win and one of them is to spread positivity and optimism to another cancer patient or their caregiver.
If you or a loved one have just been diagnosed with breast cancer, please book a free of charge introductory meeting with me. I am here to help.
This article is contributed by Dwan Kwan, one of the cancer coaches at Three Points Cancer Coach. Dwan is a 10-year-and-counting-breast-cancer-survivor.
