Coping with Cancer by Claire Edmonds

What Coping with Cancer Taught me about COVID-19

by Claire Edmonds, Ph.D., RP

My life has unravelled twice before. It’s been pulled apart and reconstituted in ways I could not have imagined, because of an errant string of DNA lurking deep within my genome. Like the novel coronavirus, never before encountered by the human body, a minuscule thread of protein can wreak havoc on the orderly functioning of the systems that sustain our lives. A strand of DNA, not quite alive, but certainly not inert, uses the cells of other organisms to further its intention. Its only conceivable goal is to replicate at all costs, even at the death of the host. Having had breast cancer almost 5 years ago and an unrelated but shocking diagnosis of ocular melanoma (eye cancer) 3 1/2 years after that, I know the capricious nature of untamed and uncontained DNA. I have lost body parts and vision, confidence, and perhaps most of all, the certainty that life will unfold as I might have expected. I have been changed.

Perhaps ironically, my career as a psychotherapist has focused on cancer patients. I have studied the effects of cancer on the minds, bodies and spirit’s of my clients. My therapeutic work is with those who seek to understand their emotional experience and expand into the places that have been altered within them; to reinvent their lives when dealing with the challenges of loss.

So, my education continues. I have learned many lessons and gained many insights. Perhaps the most salient of these is learning to live with uncertainty. The novel coronavirus has introduced an element of uncertainty unparalleled in our lives. Our few defences consist of isolation, hand washing and not touching our faces, seemingly inadequate weapons for such a formidable foe. Our lives have been turned upside down. Children are out of school, many workplaces have been shuttered, our hospitals are filling to capacity and many are struggling to meet their rent and buy food. The news each day requires us to square our shoulders, take a deep breath and enter, if not bravely, at least gamely. Danger seems to lurk everywhere; a seasonal sneeze is foreboding, a neighbourly wave becomes a potential vector and grocery shopping is an exercise in managing biohazards. What does the experience and expertise of a cancer patient have to offer?

Fear is synonymous with cancer; it strikes at our beliefs that we are destined for a long and fruitful life. We are afraid of the treatments, losses and potential death. Learning to live with that fear is a major task for the cancer patient and their loved ones. Patients are barraged with statistics conjuring their future just as we are now being asked to consider our own risk for Covid-19. The numbers churned out by public health agencies only reflect those who have been tested and fails to include untested symptomatic people, or more importantly, the asymptomatic people. It is a numbers game of general trends that may, or may not, relate to your own future.

How does a person with cancer manage these uncertainties? First of all we develop a relationship with the numbers and then try to incorporate them into our choices. If chemo gives me a 3% advantage over death and a 1% risk of another potentially more fatal cancer, is it worth it to me? What is it I want to live for? What really matters to me? Is this suffering an investment in my future? We have to make it personal, not theoretical, moulding the numbers into what we value. In the face of so much uncertainty we may not know what the “right” decisions are until we can see the consequences in retrospect. For me, my choices evolved out of a credo of “no regrets” as best as I could formulate them. Will I regret eschewing chemo now in 5 years time? In the uncertainty that coronavirus presents, will I regret visiting that neighbour, will I regret not taking the warnings seriously? In essence, what do I need to feel safe, and for those around me to feel safe? We all have different tolerance to risk, ask any financial advisor; some investors can manage the wilder rides of day trading while others prefer guaranteed investments.

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Cancer is a blow; it comes with little warning and shakes our deepest sense of safety. Control? I believe it is an illusion. Health strategies such as running, diet, meditation and mental health are now for my pleasure and growth, not a bid to control the outcome of my life. With the coronavirus, we can do the health behaviours we have been given; hand washing, not touching our faces and social distancing, but at some point, we must accept that chance is in the equation too. As in life, it is always a part of the ride.

How does one live between the numbers and within the limitations life is now giving you? Enduring cancer treatment requires a mindset of “smaller things,” where success is not measured by accomplishment but by breaths taken and moments experienced. Now, I count the small moments that make up a day; taking a walk outside, a perfect scrambled egg, a cup of tea, the sun shining through a window, the birds singing, connection with a friend, albeit at a safe distance.

Now, when we are all wrenched from the soothing, reassuring rhythms of daily routine, what will be our grounding touchstones? Perhaps we can discover peace amidst the mayhem. So many of us have wanted a slower pace, and now that it is forced upon us we are at odds with it. How to fill a day? While perhaps clichéd, each day is still a gift and we can adapt to our new realities. Keep a daily routine, home exercise, yoga, learn a new language, learn to paint, write, journal, draw, organize your cupboards, your life, make coffee dates with friends over Skype, rediscover the simple joys...homemade bread anyone? There is, at present, a science experiment on my kitchen counter that I hope to magic into sourdough bread.

Like cancer, COVID opens doors to what really matters in our lives; taking care of loved ones while distancing, learning to spend time with family in new ways, being in the moment and grateful for the moments we have. We might also consider limiting our exposure to unsettling news. Just as a patient limits her intake of research, books and well-intended suggestions, be wary of your sources, discipline your news intake and take time to reach out to others who may be feeling isolated and alone, through a phone call or email. We will be changed by this experience, reinvented by choice or by necessity, appreciating our connectedness on this planet and our responsibility to both ourselves and each other; breath by breath, moment by moment.

About the Author

Claire Edmonds earned a Ph.D. specializing in psycho-oncology from York University. She worked for over 20 years at Princess Margaret Cancer Centre as a clinical researcher in the Healing Journey Program. This program teaches coping skills such as progressive relaxation, guided imagery, healthy thought management, meditation and the spiritual quest, all within the context of a support group format. Research has shown that the program can enhance mood and quality of life in caregivers and patients and may even extend survival for some patients. As a Registered Psychotherapist, she now works at a variety of community cancer organizations, including Wellspring and the Canadian Cancer Society where develops programs and trains professionals. Claire has also coped with cancer herself, which has profoundly deepened her understanding of the cancer experience. She has a small private practice in Toronto, where she happily lives with her husband.