As I was laying on the radiation table the other day, “Everybody Have Fun Tonight” cheerfully piping through the ceiling speakers, I considered the fact that I was experiencing what would surely be the most peaceful moment of my day. When the most peaceful moment of your day involves Wang Chung and a medical professional telling you that your nipple looks great, it invites a moment of self-introspection.
Like many parents, I have spent the last year trying to juggle full-time work with childcare. It is mind-numbingly exhausting, even without cancer treatment thrown in the mix. The sense of overwhelm usually results in my staying up too late, hitting the sauce too hard, funneling straight garbage into my body, and trying to count “chasing an unruly toddler” as exercise.
So there I found myself with a few quiet minutes, thinking, I really need to get some exercise to help manage stress. After radiation is over, I’ll start walking every day. I’ve been too tired to stick with it and trying to fit it into my already packed day has felt impossible. Then it hit me- I’m doing it again. I’m waiting until conditions are perfect.
Allow me to rewind a bit. Between 2017-2019, I experienced a series of events that were stress-inducing at best and traumatic at worst. In 2017, my dad was involved in a freak accident that almost took his life. In 2018, upon arriving back at work from maternity leave, I learned that my company was merging with a competitor. In 2019, my aunt was diagnosed with multiple myeloma (cancer of the plasma cells) and shortly after she began treatment, she suffered a stroke. Each time a new event occurred, I threw myself in to trying to fix things. I sat with my dad every day in the ICU, quietly working on my computer. I set up a meal train for my parents and even after my dad was home, I drove down every weekend to help around the house. When my company merged, I quickly developed a new website, marketing materials, and planned a large-scale conference. I stayed up late every night for months, even on Christmas Eve, to keep projects moving forward. When my aunt was diagnosed, I drove her to appointments, and after her stroke, I worked from the hospital, helping her communicate with doctors. I cleaned her house, made sure her bills were paid, and helped put together a schedule of temporary caregivers once she was back home. I did all of this in the midst of full-time work and raising two kids.
I detail all of this not to pat myself on the back. When faced with a challenging situation, my first instinct is to jump in, manage it, and power through at all costs. In some ways, this is helpful. Shit gets done. In other ways, it has negatively affected me on an emotional level, and I suspect, a physical level.
When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, my aunt became very emotional and told me that she felt like she had caused it. While I wholeheartedly disagree with her, I do believe there is some truth to the unhealthy way I manage stress and the fact that I was diagnosed with cancer. I’m not a doctor, but I do have a degree in searching the web, trying to figure out why my boob committed mutiny against my body. It turns out that stress can be a contributing factor for breast cancer.
As I “power through” life’s troubles, these are the types of statements that run through my head:
I’ll get more sleep when…
I’ll drink less wine when…
I’ll eat better when…
I’ll exercise regularly when…
I’ll handle stress better when…
But that time never comes, because this is real life and it will never be as easy as I want it to be. The perfect conditions will never materialize, and the longer I wait to change how I handle stress, to focus more on protecting my time and energy, to take better care of my body, the better chance I have of a cancer recurrence.
All this to say- whether you have cancer, whether you are parenting through a pandemic, whether you, like me, are woefully inept at dealing with stress in a healthy manner, I hope you stop waiting.
katie miller dunn 