What I’ve Done for My Health Since Cancer

Prepare to be Underwhelmed

A friend recently asked if I was doing more for my health since cancer’s wake up call. My mind flashed through the books I’ve read on healing. Especially those written by people who seem to have reversed or even cured their serious illness.

The blueprint is the same: Eat “clean”, exercise, meditate daily, use supplement XYZ. Then, write a book about this to help others because, hey, if they can do it, SO CAN YOU! (Psssst, I’ll let you in on a little secret. When I read these types of books, I check the publish date and then, cynic that I can be, I Google the person to see if they are still alive. Sometimes they are. Sometimes they aren’t.)

Next, I sit down with a handful of cool ranch Doritos to ponder these things. Does walking slowly through the woods count as meditation? (Slowly because of the f’in hip pain coming from the hormone blocker.) Are my supplements pure enough? My God, how can I afford all the shit recommended?

Speaking of shit, the chronic diarrhea from the hormone blocker is so much fun. Maybe I just don’t have the right supplement on board. Or I’m not visualizing happy bowels enough so my gut continues to carry on like a neurotic tail-chasing chihuahua on espresso.

And then, even as I write this, I am overtaken by a nuclear caliber hot flash and rip off my shirt.

Now. Where was I? Oh yes, the positive changes I’ve implemented since breast cancer.

The depression that lurks around the edges of my day? Well, I just need to get into the right head space. After all, I need to be even more vigilant with my mental health.

Then there’s the mini-PTSD moments when some days I step out of the shower and feel like I am seeing my body for the first time since the girls- may God rest their souls, ended up as slices underneath a microscope.

I feel shocked and like an utter freak. I quickly dismiss the horror and remind myself that I am beautiful just the way I am.

Does dismissing the “feel like a freak” feelings count as proactive?

Let’s see. I ditched my toxic marriage, but that was in the works before cancer. Can I earn brownie points for that? Those books remind me that toxic relationships are, uh, duh, toxic, and could contribute to Cancer, Act II.

I am in tricky waters here with my sassy tone. There are things we can do to minimize cancer reoccurrence. Quit smoking and your chance of lung cancer lessons. Lose weight and your overall health will improve. Meditation has scientifically proven benefits.

And guess what? We still die.

Is this where I jump off and talk about how these changes will improve the quality of life? I could. But I won’t. You already know it anyway.

In true American fashion, we are told that if we just do everything right, no bad stuff will happen. Eat your organic diet and hit the gym, unlike those lazy assholes who get sick.

We are always looking for the reasons someone gets cancer and someone else with similar habits doesn’t. Or why a vegan yogi develops an aggressive breast cancer at 28 years of age. Go figgur.

Again, not dissing healthful choices. I sure feel a helluva lot better when I’m exercising. And get this-I gave up wine.

There’s SOOOOOO much fear when you get a cancer diagnosis. And sadly, there’s guilt too. What did I do wrong? (Answer: Um, you are human.)

And then the recovery-what am I doing to prevent it from coming back? After all, I’ve been plucked from the edge and must now show, by my activities, how grateful I am. How am I LIVING MY BEST LIFE!!! (Did a picture of Joel Osteen’s teeth flash through your mind like it did mine?)

Oh my god. I just feel exhausted thinking about this. And I’m fully caffeinated and just starting my day.

We turn all this shit into an endurance contest. A cortisol event. Even a worthiness contest. It’s subtle and even smiled upon as a virtue. “Ex, “Sally valiantly fought her cancer but died anyway…”

This is not about “fighting” anything. It’s not about doing enough and the motive behind that-the fear that you are not enough.

No, if I am learning anything as I pick up the pieces of my new boobless life, it is this:

Surrender.

We do not find surrender in the grasping mind. It hangs out with acceptance.

Surrender says, “Stop. Breathe In this present moment, you are fine. You are enough. You are okay.”

Can you feel your butt cheeks loosen up a little just reading that?

Sure, I try to pay attention to my improving my health. But I accept the fact that one day, I WILL draw my last breath. I may die from cancer or perhaps just with cancer. Or maybe because a big rock falls on my head.

I accept the fear when it arises. I accept the wave of horror and grief that pops up when I see my scars.

Then I surrender. It’s okay. I feel scared. I feel anxious. All legitimate and healthy emotions that need to be heard.

If a beloved friend told me they struggled with these things, I wouldn’t encourage them to start a new supplement or start a walking program. They are probably already staggering under guilt that they KNOW this already. They just can’t seem to garner the will power.

Instead, I would sit with them and honor their struggle. Just like I am learning to sit with myself.

From there, I can move forward with a different, more loving energy. I can look with clearer eyes at my agency and claim my power. Not so I can DO MORE FASTER, but rather step into who I am at my core.

And at my core, I find abundant love and peace. And this is the greatest healing agent of all.

Thanks so much for reading. You can find me around the internet at www.theresawinn.com, on Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram. If you’d like to support my writing in a small way, feel free to buy me a coffee.