Finding Peace with Blood Cancer

Upon learning I needed to undergo chemotherapy to treat a case of Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma, I discovered a typical treatment could take between 6 to 8 hours to feed the chemicals into my system. This discovery led me to wonder what one does to occupy the time when confined to a recliner with a rack of bottles and bags hanging overhead, each attached to me via tubes and needles. The mental picture did not offer feelings of comfort.

The need for self care

My oncologist casually suggested that I bring lunch and a book to read. I thought this guy must not have any of my lower back pain issues. I also doubted if he had ever experienced the joys of sitting still for an an 8-hour infusion.

In the days following his guidance, I looked for ways to improve my mental resilience and feel content when finding myself in a new, challenging medical environment. This was not about trying to feel happy. Instead, it was more about acknowledging my positive and negative feelings without being emotionally overwhelmed. I realized there was a need to be aware of the importance of emotional self-care. That's no matter if I found myself in a treatment center or any location where I would soon be showing off my new shiny bald head and meeting folks face to face.

Creating a portable safe space

I started with a basic idea: find a physically safe space. The 4-season sunroom on the back side of my home proved to be a good start. It overlooked a wooded area. It offered privacy and a feeling of calm, even when the occasional bear or gang of turkeys decided to pay a visit. While the home retreat was a good start, I could not transport my peaceful space to another location. After a while, I added meditation music to the relaxation mix at home. It then dawned on me that I could take that calm to an infusion session.

Upon entering the infusion center, I always asked for a suite near a window to look over a wooded area. Ironically, I often spotted the occasional bear or turkey crossing in the woods. Once seated and hooked up, I would put on my earbuds and close my eyes. Immediately, a feeling of calm came over me. More than once, I drifted off into a deep sleep, evident by the overhead gear collection.

Dealing with emotional challenges

The next challenge was dealing with folks outside my immediate family and medical personnel. I could not whip out my earbuds, close my eyes, and drift off. I went back to the source: my infusion sessions. I decided to reexamine how I interacted with the folks around me at the center and decided it was time to declutter my emotional baggage. I began using my laptop at the infusion center and started writing down my feelings, thoughts, and ideas for articles. Through writing, I began to detach myself, let go of past hurts, and, in the process, opened space in my heart for more positive experiences.

Some of the infusion nurses in my circle were outgoing; others took some getting used to. I made it a mission to connect with the more complex characters. I saw walls breaking down with time as I changed my interactions with the more challenging personalities. My journey of first finding a safe place where I could cry or laugh or just let go of my emotions was the key. Over time, I learned to take care of my physical and emotional needs and, in turn, to interact more positively with others.

Embracing self-confidence

In an earlier article entitled “A Heart of Gold,” I mentioned a woman at church who, knowing I was on chemo, told me I looked good bald. My earlier self would have been offended by her comments. I avoided being offended by consciously remembering to engage my newly found self-confident state of mind. I heartily was able to say: “So good. I looked good bald, as I had not planned on having a head transplant as part of my cancer treatment.”

The lesson I learned was to take the time to find peaceful places in my life and to remember to carry those moments with me to every place my blood cancer journey takes me.