Fear: Choosing to Push Back

As seen in the St. Paul Pioneer Press on 1/22/16

“There was no cancer.” When a doctor spoke those words last week he released me from the emotional paralysis that had gripped me for weeks. Waiting to learn whether I had the same cancer that claimed my mother at age 49, I’d gone through the motions of celebrating the holidays while putting the rest of my life on hold.

I’m no stranger to the noxious disease. It’s taken parts — but not all — of me. Nearly 13 years ago I met my cancer diagnosis with a firm resolve: I’m not going to die from this.

Though I was a stellar patient with a great outcome, physicians counseled me on the risks of a recurrence or a secondary cancer. Their words settled into my psyche, periodically awakened by a persistent ache, an unfamiliar sensation, or unusually low energy. I harbored doubts. Could I face a second diagnosis with the same energy and resolve?

I write and speak about choosing how to face adversity. Drawing upon wise counsel I received from a priest nearly six years ago, I share how the words “You can choose to become bitter or better” became my guiding light, my North Star.

Yet my North Star seemed below the horizon this past month as I grappled with the prospect of a second cancer battle. I felt powerless over something that could keep me from watching my granddaughters don their backpacks on the first day of kindergarten, discover boys and generally drive their parents batty.

But I didn’t feel bitter. A bit angry at times, but mostly very frightened.

With the emotion so present I became more aware of how pervasive, potent and even useful fear can be. We experience fear of failure and fear of success; fear of heights; fear of public speaking; fear of intimacy; fear of rejection. Watching their loved ones succumb to it, many of my contemporaries harbor an intense fear of Alzheimer’s.

We’re living in a worrisome time. We are continually reminded about nuclear and cyber threats; random shootings; and stock market volatility.

Amid a debate about whether or to what degree our country is at risk and on the decline, fear and optimism are often at odds. Some people are lashing out; others are withdrawing, or burying their heads in despair and helplessness. Others remain hopeful and confident.

What’s a person to do?

Fear can paralyze and motivate; prompt both rational and irrational thinking and decision-making. I am a problem solver by nature and training. Give me the facts and I’ll make a plan. Keep me in limbo and I’ll languish and anguish.

I’ve found the best strategy is to identify the concern and acknowledge it. Churning feelings in the stomach can be a good indicator that something is not right. Is it a physical or emotional concern? Persistent or fleeting?

Whether we are facing a crisis or simply living each day it helps to carve out quiet moments for reflection, contemplation and planning. It’s prudent to be conscious of our bodies and spirits so when something is percolating we don’t overlook or ignore it. When a demon like cancer pays a visit time is often of the essence.

There are many ways to cast aside unproductive thoughts: prayer, therapy, yoga, exercise, journaling, meditation, quiet walks, or soul-soothing music. We can embrace laughter or loved ones or little ones whose giggles send shards of joy through the body.

Years ago fear was my antagonist when my 11-year-old daughter underwent a bone marrow transplant. After we’d completed our research and preparation, there was nothing more I could do. So I sent and accepted prayers and kept her company as we waited for the medical miracle to unfold. The outcome was beyond my control.

Once again I’m reminded that while I can’t control what happens to me, I can control my response. Subscribing to the philosophy “live in the moment but plan for the future,” I trust I’ll be able to navigate whatever comes my way. I have an emotional safety net composed of family and friends who have my back — as I have theirs.

As to any real or dreaded health challenges, I’m as prepared as I can be to deal with them. I understand the implications of drinking too much, exercising too little and eating the wrong foods. I embrace sleep as a time of healing and growth. I try to play my cards wisely. But sometimes we’re just dealt a bad hand.

With those cards in hand, my strategy of choice is to seek out the North Star and grab onto it for dear life.