June is National Cancer Survivor’s Month!
As you read about the experience of one of our cancer survivors, Julie Vaclaw,
please think about and reach out to the survivors in your life!
Julie with her husband Ryan and their grandchildren.
This month at Hopestone, we are celebrating National Cancer Survivor’s Month! With this in mind, I have been thinking a lot about what it means to be a cancer survivor. There are many definitions of the term “cancer survivor”, but the one that I like most comes from a systematic search of published definitions by the National Library of Medicine. Their review suggests that there is not a unique definition of who is a “cancer survivor” and what “cancer survivorship” is, however, the most widely used definition they discovered sees “cancer survivorship as a process that begins at the moment of diagnosis and continues through the balance of life.”
For me, hearing the words “you have cancer” was life altering. I was diagnosed with Stage 3 Colon Cancer, following my first colonoscopy at age 50. In that single moment, everything changed. I was no longer just Julie the wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, and friend, I had become Julie the cancer patient, Julie the survivor. I’m sure that anyone who has experienced cancer would say that it has a way of taking over your life, it becomes the priority and everything else gets placed on hold. That is what happened to me, there was a huge shift in our priorities. My number one priority had always been my family, and although they were still at the top of my list, taking care of myself and learning everything I could about this particular kind of cancer and what I was going to do to fight it dominated my thoughts and actions. I’m not going to lie, at times it was terrifying and completely overwhelming, but I was very blessed, in that my husband is a physician and could answer a lot of the questions that I had and was able to connect me with some incredible resources and care options. There is so much information out there, it helps to have someone in your corner that can help you dissect it and know what is accurate and what is not.
Another great resource for me was talking to people I knew who had been through cancer and cancer treatments, especially those who had experienced the kind of chemo treatments that I would be receiving. Hearing about their experience and getting their perspective gave me a lot of peace and increased my belief that I could survive this! I learned pretty quickly that reading about other people’s experiences on the internet was not always helpful and only increased my anxiety regarding my care plan and its outcome. Some of the best advice I was given, was to be careful about those things, because each person is different, and we don’t all experience treatments in the same way.
Of course, my greatest resource was my faith, which provided me with the knowledge that I wasn’t alone. I knew that I had a loving Heavenly Father who was watching over both me and my family. I felt His guidance and care throughout my surgery and recovery, and months of chemotherapy, as I experienced many of His tender mercies at the hands of those who served me and my family. After my treatments were completed, a friend asked me if I worried about the cancer coming back. This too, is part of being a survivor. It was something that I had thought about and had come to the personal decision that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering and worrying. Of course, there is always the chance that the cancer could return, but instead of worrying about it, I choose to focus my thoughts on the tender mercies that I received during that time.
I think about the nurse anesthetist who helped with that first colonoscopy, who came and quietly stood beside my wheelchair, and held my hand as I sat stunned after hearing those words “you have cancer”. She never said a word, but she stayed with me as I waited for my husband to bring the car around.
I think about leaving my home on the morning of my surgery and driving down my drive which was lined on both sides with posters filled with personal messages of hope and encouragement, left the night before by the dear women from my church.
I think about the nurse’s assistant at Saint Francis Hospital on the morning of my surgery, who told me that on her way to work that morning, she prayed for the patients that she would be helping and for the surgeons who would be performing surgery that day, as she always did, and had received the impression that there would be a miracle that day, and she felt that I was the one who was going to receive it. The spirit of peace was palpable in the room when she left.
I think about the months of meals that were brought to our family to help us and sustain us during the most difficult of times, the cards, the phone calls, the thoughtful gifts, and the daily texts I received as friends and loved ones constantly checked on me.
I think of my sister-in-law Amy, who while out running one morning had the thought that she needed to get over to my home to check on me. After ignoring it the first time, she responded the second time arriving 5 minutes before I got the call from my surgeon telling me that I was going to have to do chemotherapy, I was devastated, but I wasn’t alone.
I think of my youngest son, Jack, our only son living at home during my diagnosis and treatment, who never once left or entered the house without first checking on me to make sure I was ok and to see if I needed anything. I’m so very grateful for his servant’s heart.
I think about my dear husband, who was with me every step of the way and who I believe sometimes felt the pain and anguish as much as I did. He was my biggest cheerleader, my counselor, my best friend, and as always, the love of my life. This is what I choose to think about, to focus on as a survivor, all the times that I knew I wasn’t alone, these and so, so many more.
Being a survivor for me, began at the moment of my diagnosis and will continue through the rest of my life. It is a title that I am so very grateful for and wear proudly. In many ways, it has made life richer because I better understand the gift I have been given. My family is more precious, my time more valuable, my hopes and dreams more important, and my faith stronger than ever. These are just some of the gifts of survivorship, and they make us keenly aware of the many whose survivorship ended too quickly. We remember them and try to live our best lives to honor them. And hopefully, we will have the opportunity to be a tender mercy for someone else who has just been christened a “survivor”.