Stephanie J. Hammonds

Editor’s Note: This piece was submitted by a contributing writer and does not represent the views of CURE Media Group.

 Once I began dealing with a cancer diagnosis, there was much to take into consideration, including how to adapt to how things are “now” rather than how they were “then.” I’m one of those folks who thought I had pretty good health, since I don’t smoke or drink and had no serious chronic problems. But when cancer comes along, that can all change. A life can change.

Treatments are numerous and often with various side effects, schedules that have to be met, prescriptions to obtain, testing taking up time and perhaps hours commuting to the place of treatment. Friends and relatives may be more necessary to us for help and support. There may be ongoing worry and concern about our health. This is what is called the “new normal”, adapting to a way of life that wasn’t planned on, wasn’t asked for and wasn’t on anyone’s bucket list.

Often, job schedules have to be modified, by part-time hours or telecommuting, especially on particularly challenging days. It may be necessary to depend on friends or neighbors, people we hadn’t previously counted on, to pick up children, help us with errands, housework, cooking, shopping or to offer moral support. Our “old” normal self may not have needed this extra help or accommodations in our professional lives. But now, we may find we have to spend more time resting, conserving energy or adapting to a totally different way of life, perhaps unable to do all the intensely mental or physical things we used to enjoy. This maybe only temporarily, but it is all part of our “new normal.” And yes, it often comes right through the door along with serious illness, including cancer.

I’ve heard several patients with cancer say, “I wish I could just back to being my old self. I wish I could go back to being who I was before I got this.”

I’m betting that a great percentage of us who have cancer feel the exact same way. And I know exactly what those statements mean. “I want to go back to being a person who doesn’t worry so much, fill my mind with serious thoughts, have so many appointments, so much uncertainty and so many concerns. I wish I didn’t have to think about illness and that I could come and go as I please and not think about treatment, tests and procedures. I wish I could just be my old self.”

But, for many of us, it's not possible to go back to the old self. It's a challenge to adjust and accept this new normal. For me, it's trying to accept my illness, not let the anxiety overwhelm me, and appreciate the good things I still do have: family and friends, and the medical team members who help me. Of course, some days are better than others. But then a new day comes along, and like thousands of others, I get up and try again.

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Adjusting to Cancer's "New Normal"

During or after treatment, thoughts of cancer loom high in my mind. Just when I think I have it under control, it pops back up again. It’s sort of walking around with a cloud over my head; not necessarily a dismal rain cloud, but a cloud nevertheless. There are days and weeks I don’t go for infusions or even tests, but the thought is still there. There are times that any old ache and pain can make me think of it, and so does the odd upset stomach, a reaction to a new skin cream or soap or when a slightly “off” day comes along.

Why is this? I ask myself. Before I was diagnosed with cancer, I was on a steady, even keel. Now I’m rocking way too much. What happened?

Listening to others in my shoes and reading about other patients’ feelings, I found that I’m not alone in this thinking. Cancer is a strange ominous being that has the ability to control what we think or feel even when we don’t want to, and, many times, has the ability to take the joy out of life. It upsets me to think that even in a stable period, I’m still suffering just thinking about cancer. My challenge was and is to push it out of my mind in any way possible-- to back up, and go in the opposite direction.

For me, that means staying true to what makes me super happy, lifts my spirits and doesn’t allow me to sink into those anxiety-inducing cancer “thoughts.” My lifelong hobbies of artwork, music, dolls, toys and writing help me every hour and every day. I love to write cards and letters, listen to music and keep up with drawing, paper dolls and floral painting. Submitting magazine articles, reading, studying British history, sketching and watercolors keep my mind completely immersed in pleasantry with no room there for scary old cancer.

Cancer tries to control my thoughts, but I’m determined not to let it. Yes, it’s a serious challenge that is as tough as the disease itself. I don’t win this race every minute. It pushes towards me and tends to creep in; it’s a very tough adversary. But, with my hobbies, interests and first loves, the things that make me who I really am, is where my ammunition lies. I've been an artist all my life and will continue to be. As long as I stay immersed in what I really, truly, enjoy, I will try to control what I’m able to: my happiness.

Thought Control: Can Anything Take My Mind Off Cancer?

 Little did I know in the weeks following my cancer diagnosis in 2009 that I would get advice to watch comedy. One urging even came from a childhood television idol I watched in fourth grade.

Humor: could it help me find my way back through this time of illness to my former healthy state and perhaps a better mood? I do like comedy, but I like drama also. Did I have to choose? Did these recommendations to funny shows have to be exclusive? What if I didn’t feel like laughing? It didn’t sound like it would be helpful. Maybe I shouldn’t take any of these referrals ... seriously.

Several weeks after my first surgery and treatment, I realized I wouldn’t be able to get out as much as I liked, and the days began to drag on. I relied on my beloved artwork projects of paper dolls and flower illustrations to keep me going, but soon I decided to try a little time with DVDs. I set the dramatic shows aside temporarily. And, yes I tried comedy. British comedy, or “Britcoms” as they are known. My first choice, "Keeping up Appearances,” the “laugh out loud” stuff. And, every time I laughed, I felt a little better. Laughing and humor did help take my mind off of this annoying cancer situation. With cancer came worry, anxiety, pain, sadness and scary thoughts. Laughing eased much of it. My mood lifted quite a bit! I was more relaxed. I wanted to laugh!

When I came home from a chemotherapy treatment, I would watch a comedy show. When friends came by to visit, I would put a DVD on, and we would laugh together. Jackie Gleason came next, the “Honeymooners”, then lots of other funny series including “Doc Martin” and “Are you Being Served?” It felt so great to laugh-- so nice to feel almost like my former self again. I had a recurrence in 2015 of my old illness, and I’m still watching comedy. It still helps uplift me every time I have a good laugh, or sometimes a roaring giggle.

“Watch comedy” they said. They were right.

Comedy: Would a Few Laughs Help My Cancer?

Finding out I had cancer and needed lots of treatment was difficult to take and a lot to absorb. First there was surgery, then months of chemotherapy. It was painful both physically and emotionally, but nothing prepared me for my loss of hair. You'd think that compared to the more serious aspects of having ovarian cancer, vanity and hair wouldn't matter as much. You'd think that it would seem tiny in comparison. But that wasn't how it was with me, and I suspect many others.

Losing one's hair is sort of the "straw that breaks the camel's back.” Looking as lousy as I felt and feeling sorry for myself sort of all came together the day I saw that first brush full of hair. Winter and the cold weather was coming on fast, so I kept what I had for as long as I could, then resigned myself to a trendy little wig. I faced it, overcame it and did the best I could. I realized that, for now at least, I would live without my usual look. That should be the end of my tale.

It was the thoughtless remarks that annoyed me as much as losing my own hair! Several people asked me whether I was going to shave my head. These were women who had never taken chemotherapy drugs or dealt with this dilemma of unwanted hair shedding. Since I hadn't indicated I was going to take my hair off, why should anyone ask? Also, my hair loss wasn't just an emotional problem, it was painful. My scalp hurt and felt sore, so I had to keep a soft flannel hat on most of the time.

I see it now as just another bump in the road of my healing process of several years ago -- a side effect of the medicines I took. My hair grew back and, like so many others, I got over the pain. But I could have done without the insensitive comments which added more angst to my situation. Cancer did make me rather thin-skinned. It's easy to get upset when you’re already on edge. Let's think before we speak, before offering unsolicited advice or questions to those who are hurt and dealing with cancer. Let's be gentle (and thoughtful!) with the remarks.

Yes, Cancer Is Making Me Lose My Hair

 When you’re diagnosed with cancer, there are so many feelings to experience that it’s difficult to put a name to them all. A regular listing of emotions stretches from upset, shocked and dismayed to scared and anxious.

After being told I had stage 3 ovarian cancer in 2009, I felt all those emotions and more. But I also wanted to be hopeful that I would find a treatment plan that would put me back on a better track. More unexpected situations arise, however when people hear that a woman has ovarian cancer and make comments that her disease is serious, bad, terrible, deadly, horrible and, worst of all, lethal.

These words are said by friends, relatives, acquaintances and folks in general. I’ve heard them, just as others in my situation have heard them, too. There is never a positive reaction for anyone who has cancer. Stating that ovarian cancer is the “disease with no symptoms” is another one I often hear. This is not helpful and clearly not always true.

Ovarian cancer has gotten a pretty bad reputation over the years, but many aspects have changed, and inroads have been made. Over the last several years came more drugs and more research on the disease itself. There is genetic testing to sort out a woman’s likelihood of having any family-related genetic factors, which can steer doctors to the most beneficial course of action. There are new clinical trials coming out for many types of cancer, including ovarian. There is more awareness, more spoken word, more seminars and more outreach centered around the signs and symptoms. And still, more can be done.

Most importantly, there is more hope and no need to continue the dreary message that ovarian cancer is a "terribly lethal” disease with no symptoms. Any woman, whatever her age, who experiences abdominal distress or symptoms needs to talk her concerns over with her doctor. Ovarian cancer, like so many other cancers, is better treated at an earlier stage.

Above all, please don’t spread the notion that we’re all in terrible shape. We’re working with our oncologists and medical team to handle ovarian cancer. And we're getting some positive results, so let’s concentrate on that! 

When finding out someone was recently diagnosed with ovarian cancer, don't respond by telling them the disease is lethal and has no symptoms.

Ovarian Cancer: Please Don't Say It Is Lethal

 After being diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 2009, I noticed a feeling of isolation creeping in during the months of my treatment. As the weeks progressed, these feelings became more pronounced. By the end of treatment, I was ready to consider joining a local gynecologic cancer support group where I could meet women with similar experiences. After a bit of indecision, I decided to try.

That was several years ago, and I’m still attending the group’s monthly meetings. My small experiment into the unknown world of cancer support groups and their various topics, ups and downs, and twists and turns has been of immense help to me in ways I never expected!

Others who share my cancer experiences have walked in my footsteps and experienced the exact same ups and downs as I have. I’ve found it incredibly easy to befriend other women who know exactly how I feel, including my fears, triumphs and thoughts. I have met the “faces” of cancer, and, just like me, they earnestly seek help and support.

Women in my group cheer on the good news, share uplifting thoughts with the bad news and offer their kindness and concern to anyone in need. We stay in touch with cards and emails to check on each other, encourage one another, and show how much our kind thoughts matter.

Getting first-hand information on how if feels to take a new treatment or undergo a different test or procedure is beyond helpful. There is nothing like being able to ask another human being what it feels like to experience a different regimen. At the end of the conversation, I feel uplifted and comfortable knowing what to expect. I love to learn everything I can about my illness, including the new breakthroughs and latest research and findings. I also love to share that information with others. It makes me feel empowered.

Also, having a monthly meeting to attend gives me some structure in my days and helps me focus my life. Catching up with the group is great, and we often welcome newcomers. Despite the serious illness that brought us together, the support group is actually a great source of pleasure.

Spending time with others who totally understand my situation gives me such comfort. There is no need to think out long explanations, choose perfectly planned words or apologize for a bad day. Once you’ve experienced cancer, you know it’s perfectly OK to be tired, sad or disappointed. Apologies are not necessary.

So much personal satisfaction comes from helping others. Just a smile, kind word or letting a person know that they’re welcome will do. All these things matter to someone struggling with a cancer diagnosis. Sometimes hugs are exchanged. Sometimes we laugh together, and sometimes we cry. It all helps.

A cancer support group offers truly unique and wonderful benefits and, as I found out, there are no negatives! Groups come in all shapes and sizes, and are often tailored to the type of cancer you are experiencing.

I recommend finding a support group. Engage a social worker or member of your medical team to help. Discover when and where they meet, then try one meeting as I did. As an ordinary person just trying to find my way back to health and better understanding what I’m dealing with, I took that little leap. My experiment has lasted for seven helpful, comforting and uplifting years.

I took a chance joining a cancer support group. Nearly seven years later, that chance is still bringing me much joy and comfort.