Well - Winter 2011 - (Page 11)

living Now a cancer diagnosis impelled me to focus on what’s really important. By Brian Stabler Editor’s note: Sometimes, the only one who truly understands what it’s like to deal with a serious health problem is the patient himself, and we believe one of the most compelling ways to tell a story is from the patient’s perspective. We hope you enjoy this first-person narrative, and we plan to bring more similar stories by patients in the future. MY StorY my next-door neighbor, Barb. She asked about my health and we chatted for a few minutes about the weather. Then out of the blue, she blurted, “Have you thought about your mortality?” My face gave me away because she instantly said, “I mean, you know, what about—um.” She trailed off into an embarrassed silence. I looked away for a moment, overcome by my own feeling of dread her innocent question stirred in me. Of course, my answer was “No, no, not yet.” Finding a way Back to life Studies by psychologists tell us that anxiety about the future is an expected and normal part of coping and recovery. But when cancer comes calling almost daily, everything “normal” gets shaken up. I found that trying to “normalize” your life takes more effort than I at first imagined. Step one: Make lists of your best qualities, your good deeds, your loving family and friends. Pin the lists in a place you pass by every day or fold them up in your wallet. Make a scrapbook of photographs of happy times. Keep them close and refer to them whenever doubts creep in. Step two involves a sort of housecleaning. A year or so into treatment, I began contacting distant friends and family with whom I had been out of touch. I gradually realized how many times I felt the need to explain a long-past event or relationship—sometimes painful memories pressed hard on me to reconcile. It was difficult, but I did it, and it began to feel better over time. My ears popped as if I were free falling— ©Brian StaBler Ph.d. PerSonal ProdUctionS llc fast. It began just after I heard, “You have a lymphoma,” pronounced by my friend, the oncologist. I’m not sure I was thinking much at that moment. I could barely catch my breath, let alone think. Some people remember the moment they were diagnosed as though it happened only yesterday. The memory of such an intensely frightening experience can linger like a dark cloud of smoke over life. But at least you’re still here. After the smoke of diagnosis clears, most people would certainly agree that the path through cancer treatment is a challenge without equal. The shock eventually subsides, and with it comes the realization that for the first time in your life you can actually sense the end of life. My own such epiphany came in the context of an otherwise pleasant conversation with a neighbor. A couple of weeks had passed and I was working in the yard, pruning a bush, when in pops Change what You Can; Forget the Rest Worrying is a guaranteed way to waste precious energy, and it takes a toll on physical health.You can literally worry yourself sick. If you must worry, worry about the big things like what’s for dinner, where shall we go for vacation, or, my favorite, when should I get my next haircut. I’m kidding of course, but the point is, if you spend time worrying about details of what might happen, you forget to do what is happening now. At the end of the day—now is really all that counts. Brian stabler is adjunct professor of psychiatry at UNC Chapel Hill and a 20-year survivor of non-Hodgkin lymphoma. treated with autologous bone marrow grafting, highdose chemotherapy and irradiation, he was one of the first patients to be treated with rituximab. stabler lives in Chapel Hill with his wife, laura, and their spaniel, Jagger. www.unchealthcare.org 11 http://www.unchealthcare.org

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Well - Winter 2011

Well - Winter 2011
Contents
UNC Health Care News
Community
You Don’t Have to Live with Incontinence
Much More Than Brain Surgery
Bouncing Back
My Story
Distinguished Nursing Care
Nutrition
Calendar

Well - Winter 2011