I had the max in a mastectomy, cmf chemo for three years, loneliness and despair starting 31 years ago. A golf buddy gave me a sleeve of golf balls as a gift when I was in the hospital and dragged me out to play on Sunday afternoons the following season(s). My game only seemed to suffer about one week a month (when my eyes blurred and nose ran). That I continued playing golf was inspirational to many women in this small town.
I lost my hair for only about six months, gained 40 or more pounds even on a low calorie diet and began to drink too much too frequently, but I came back and I came back a better person.
Educating myself about cancer, especially about nutrition and vitamins, journaling constantly on my typewriter and tearing up my writings the next day after reading them allowed me to release some anger and see my concerns more objectively and consequently relieved some stress. I had been a part time writer and photographer but stopped working because meeting the public was too difficult on chemo. I managed to write research articles for other publications free which boosted my morale.
A year after chemo I started about four years of weekly psychotherapy. I gave up drinking almost immediately and began going not to AA but to Alanon meetings because other people’s drinking really began to bother me.
I combined my own extensive study of drinking while also joining a very concentrated, 12-week program in a family alcoholism training program in a rehab center in a large hospital. My understanding of relationships and communications, especially when influenced by addictions, grew tremendously. I learned an entirely new philosophy.
I also joined a gym and worked out at least 3 days per week. All these people in these programs became my support. Having had a daytime job prior to cancer I had cultivated no real daytime friends apparently.
After I left my therapist I had a couple of lunch dates with her and saw her professionally a few times. She said I had truly changed, which I believe. I learned to protect and value myself, to express my feelings until I could release most of the bonds of anger, anxiety and sense of injustice that gripped my core. Never drinking and avoiding tranquilizers or anti-depressants allowed me to feel these body cues and work on the negative feelings until I resolved them.
I think all of this must have been a large part of my recovery and allowed me the privilege of living so healthy and continuing to grow in so many ways all these years. None of this was planned ahead of time – ideas and opportunities just flowed my way and I heeded them. This is as close to spirituality as I come. I shall be 80 next month.