Jane is a ten-year survivor of a very rare form of cancer Myelodysplastic Syndrome. She has enjoyed several exciting careers including a librarian, counselor, teacher, and writer. She loves to write about surviving cancer, overcoming hearing loss, and her hearing ear service dog, Sita.

Jane Biehl Ph.D.

As I ponder over the past year and the COVID-19 pandemic, my gauge for the memories is the weekly visits I make to the local cancer center for shots to keep up my white blood cell counts. Every single week for almost two years, I have driven to the hospital, parked my car, walked to the elevators, and gone to the third floor where the infusion center is.

It was eerie immediately after my state was completely shut down. The staff at the entrance required my driver’s license, my temperature to be taken, my phone number, and the COVID questionnaire whether I suffered from fever, sore throat, or been exposed to anyone. As I walked the long hallways, they were empty with the gift shops and coffee shops completely closed, including nonemergency surgeries.

An occasional staff member would pass me but that would be all. No visitors were present, just us patients. It was the strangest feeling ever, since I had been coming here for treatments for a total of 10 years. Slowly we gradually reopened, but visitors were still not allowed. Later, surgeries were resumed, and limited numbers of visitors were allowed again. I ended up circling the parking lot repeatedly fighting for parking spots once more.

The funny thing is that one of the smallest memories made the biggest impact on me. My mother was a beautiful woman with flawless skin, and even as an elderly woman in her 90s, people remarked on it. I remember one time when someone from a cosmetic counter argued with her because she could not believe my mother never wore makeup and had come by it naturally. She said she never used skin makeup other than cream because she did not need it.

However, she never — and I mean never — left the house without putting on lipstick. I used to wear rouge, eye shadow, and mascara, but as I got older, I always tried to wear lipstick. My best friend told me I looked so much better with it.

And then came the pandemic. Why bother to wear it now? Masks covered my lips and if I applied it, the lip gloss smeared all over my masks. So I gave up the only makeup I used.

I was seated in a community room waiting for my shot and happened to look over at the next cubicle. It was around the second week of the shutdown. The curtain was open with an elderly woman receiving an IV; and a younger woman, who I presumed was her daughter helping her. When I peeked over, the older woman lifted her mask, got out a compact mirror, and carefully applied lipstick before pulling her mask back up.

I teared up as I remembered my mother, who would have done that. This patient was struggling for normalcy during the most turbulent of times. I was so proud of her thinking how I had given up.However, I never took my lipstick out of my purse.

Fast forward an entire year later. I am thinking of the small things, and the first thing I do before I go to a social gathering with friends and family is put on my lipstick in the car. I then put on my mask and take it off when I go inside. And someday I may not need the mask at all.

Cancer is like that. We miss the little things. We may have lost our hair, have burns from radiation, or am sore from treatments and the disease. My muscles ache and I am very fatigued. But we can still do the little steps. We can still put on lipstick and strive toward a little normally. Cancer and COVID-19 are the same types of situations. The little things we do are what counts, and we can never forget that!

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Articles

A cancer survivor recalls an experience from early on during the COVID-19 pandemic and reiterates how more than a year later, she thinks about those little things.

Cancer is a Stark Reminder of the Importance of the Little Things 

I am very social and along with my hearing ear dog, we used to go out to eat all over town. This dog was so shy when first rescued, that the trainers were not certain she could be a service dog. However, after going with me for 13 years, she has become extremely outgoing. People greeted us wherever we went, and she would sometimes be given a treat or a bone.

We would go to our small church and I would keep my popular lab out of the vest. She would go up the aisle, following me to the front while stopping to be petted at every pew. We had a good life. Then, the COVID-19 pandemic hit and shut us down.

After the pandemic, we would go through the drive-through with her head hanging out the window. Occasionally we would go to a coffee shop in off-hours with few or no other customers there. I had been feeling low for a long time and knew it was the pandemic. I just did not know how much it was affecting me. After my second vaccine and several days had passed, I visited a small local diner with a friend, who has also been vaccinated. The diner was busier than I anticipated, but they gave us special seating in the back.

A man approached and asked if this was the same dog I used to have when I visited another restaurant that closed due to COVID-19. I could not hear him, but my friend interpreted for me. I affirmed that it was the same dog. Another person walked up and remembered me from going to the same doctor. A third person came up and asked the name of my dog.

The last person who strode over to us warmed my heart. He remembered me as a guest lecturer in a class at a local university over 15 years ago! I praised him, because he is working in the rehabilitation field, which is the same one I was in and taught for several years. I also told him how much it meant that he remembered me.

This is what I have missed, and many of us have.With my cancer and pandemic uncertainty, I have been depressed while wondering if I ever will feel free to climb on an airplane or go on a cruise again. I think many of us cancer survivors feel this way, and with our compromised immune systems, it is worse for us.

But meanwhile, celebrate each milestone! I was in a community with people who remembered me and my sweet dog. I visited with a good friend and we shared a delicious dessert. No social media, takeout, or pick-up can replace this. So while most of us cancer survivors aren’t going on our beloved vacations and are avoiding crowds, sports events, plays and concerts; we may be able to with time.

Meanwhile, we can go to a local diner and connect as humans, masks and all. This is what we have missed, and now appreciate more than we ever thought we would.

So my friends, as soon as it is safe, go out and connect once more, because it has been a long year and we need to try one more attempt to normalcy. We can take this one step at a time and enjoy every single day!

A cancer survivor writes about all the little things she has missed because of the COVID-19 pandemic. Those little things — such as going to a diner and connecting with friends — are now appreciated more than we ever would have imagined, she writes.

Thanks to COVID-19, I Have Missed the Little Things

I never cease to be amazed at the long arm that extends from 

® readers to readers across the United States and the world. Here, I share a fantastic example.

I have written several articles throughout the past few years on the importance of touch, with my most recent one being, “

The Loss of a Healing Touch During COVID-19

.” This describes how difficult it is for staff treating cancer survivors not to be able to touch or hug their patients undergoing treatment.

Recently, I was contacted by a wonderful musician about a fantastic video on the absence of touch because of COVID-19; and the rejoicing when we can touch again. The video is called “

,” and the lyrics and music are produced by Katie McGrath and Rick Jensen. It is written to anticipate the end of the “other pandemic,” which they call “touch starvation.”

This video is based on a LIFE magazine cover featuring a young sailor, George Mendonsa, who embraces and kisses a total stranger, who is a nurse named Greta Zimmer. They are in Times Square celebrating the coveted end of World War II. A chance photograph made its way into the history books. Tears filled my eyes as I saw the natural hugging of two strangers, and I hope this happens again.

Katie then asked me to write a paragraph on touch for the release of the video. This is what I wrote:

“Human beings basically survive with five senses: hearing, vision, touch, taste and smell. The loss of one of these senses means the other ones compensate such as in people who experience vision or hearing loss sharpening the remaining sense. Touch is the connection with other human beings. Honestly, there is nothing to say when someone has been diagnosed with cancer, lost a loved one, or has their home destroyed. A hug can give that message that another human being cares. During COVID-19, many people have missed this immensely. We should never underestimate a hug, putting our hands on top of another person, or a pat on the shoulder. It is what connects us and is the most basic of the senses.”

I want to add that we do not have another sense that can compensate for touch, and that is why it is so important.

But the story gets even better. Katie contacted me about a 

nonprofit organization called Music on the Inside

, or MOTI. Their mission is to bring music classes to prisons in New York, but due to COVID-19 concerns they’re unable to do it. For now, every Sunday night a free concert is produced (although of course donations are always welcome). What is so unique is that these artists are comprised of groups of formerly incarcerated people who used music to get them through some tough times. Now that they are out of prison, they have joined with other musicians to produce these uplifting concerts. All proceeds from the donations go to MOTI. I end up swaying to the music.

Across the U.S., musicians are helping one another through a wonderful program. I was especially intrigued because my service dog was trained in the prison program, and she changed the handler’s life by teaching him unconditional love.

I cannot wait to hug again. I have received my second vaccination and the chance to touch someone will be here soon. I would love to embrace someone in the street but that just might get me into trouble today. However, I can hug relatives, friends and people I love. “Touch starvation” will be over and we can celebrate again. I think that is why we have been so attached to our pets because they are safe to touch.

There are two important themes for both cancer survivors and the rest of the world. We never know how one article, one word or even one hug can affect other people. The idea of Katie reading my article, reaching out, sending me the video, writing the release, and then introducing me to this wonderful musical group is much more than coincidence. The story began with a simple article and ended up with musicians reaching out to each other. It demonstrates how we are all interconnected and can influence each other.

The second idea is the power of a hug. The author, Ann Hood, said it best: “I have learned there is more power in a good strong hug than in a thousand meaningful words.”

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to 

A cancer survivor yearns for the “touch starvation” brought on by the COVID-19 pandemic to be over. She writes about how just one hug can make a huge difference for people.

Hugs Are Important for Cancer Survivors

I think all of us have been reflecting a lot more since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, at least I know I have. We are uncertain about the future of the entire world. Can we get enough people vaccinated? Where is it safe to go? Will another surge of infections occur because of opening more places, not requiring masks and the variants that have been occurring?

Will travel and flying ever feel safe again?

Add to this uncertainty what each of us cancer survivors are going through. We ask ourselves if our cancer can be cured. We always wonder if it will come back. We fear it may metastasize. If it is incurable, will there be a new chemo or treatment? Each one of us has a fear about our individual type of cancer, and what our future holds.

And of course, we all have personal issues we are facing. Many families have been financially devastated, first from medical bills and now from the pandemic. I have lost several friends this past year from cancer and other diseases and miss them. One of my dear friends is now in hospice, and I pray for her not to have any more pain. We are all facing mortality and losing people we love brings it home for each of us.

Then I read this quote: “Life is like a book. Some chapters are sad, some are happy, and some are exciting, but if you never turn the page, you will never know what the next chapter has in store for you.”

I am allowing myself to be frozen and afraid of turning the page. I am a huge mystery fan and can relate to this quote. When I am reading my favorite mystery authors, I always turn the page eagerly to see “who done it,” as they say. But I need to do this in my personal life also. Whether I am afraid, uncertain, hopeful, despondent, or depressed does not matter.

I need to just turn the page because this is what life is all about. Think about what we miss if we do not do this, which is far worse. And no matter our religion, we all cling to the knowledge that eventually we turn the last glorious page into the next life without pain. Meanwhile, we can turn the pages here on earth, and hold on to our roller-coaster lives. We are all in this together, all over the world!

Life is like a book, writes this cancer survivor. And people shouldn’t be afraid to turn the page to see what’s on the other side, she says.

Jane Biehl Ph.D.

Cancer is a Stark Reminder of the Importance of the Little Things

Thanks to COVID-19, I Have Missed the Little Things

Hugs Are Important for Cancer Survivors

If You Don’t Turn the Pages in the Book of Life, You’ll Never Know What’s in Store for You

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