CHANGING YOUR SCRIPT--SURVIVING CANCER, ILLNESS, & LOSS

We all know the shock of recognition when something awful happens: "Oh, God, I've got cancer!" Or, "Oh, God, I need a knee replacement and will my insurance cover it with Trump shredding ACA?" Or, "My kid has a chronic illness. How will we deal with this?"

As the Buddhists are fond of saying, "Pain is inevitable but suffering is not."  It all lies in how we deal with the pain in our lives that can change our script.  When I was diagnosed with uterine cancer 2 & 1/2 years back, I remember wailing, "But, God! I ate oatmeal, jogged, exercised, did Jane Fonda & Yoga, had a faith life and love--I did everything right!"  I thought this for awhile until reality kicked in.

I couldn't change the diagnosis, I knew, but I could control how I dealt with it. I started out by:
--going on Amazon and ordering an expensive, Pendleton wool wrap which lifted my spirits (if $ is an issue, go to Marshall's instead, or TJ's.);
--finding cheerful sweaters I had forgotten about in my closet and dragging them out to wear;
--selecting a silver cross from Amazon and a tiny (but powerful) statue of St. Peregrine, patron saint of cancer patients.

Later on, after I learned that I had 3 kinds of cancer (one of my grown kids teased, "Mom! You couldn't do just ONE kind, you had to do 3!"), and that I would need to have 16 infusions of chemo, I swung into survival & planning mode:

--ordering special, gentle cosmetics & skin care for people who would lose their hair, including eyebrows;
--getting soft hair scarves from www.headcoverings.com which my niece suggested might be helpful (they were);
--finding a wonderful, short, nifty wig from Raquel Welch, online, which made me feel attractive;
--finding inexpensive, soft, v-necked sweaters and shirts to wear while getting my infusions;
--ordering a small pocket shrine from Etsy which I opened and put on my lap during each infusion;
--starting my cancer/faith blog at: https://faithismyos.blogspot.com.

Once I began chemo and lost hair and energy, I kept my deep faith--offering up my wobbly legs to God, even as I muttered, "Couldn't you do just a LITTLE bit better on the neuropathy, honey, God?"  I practiced gratitude, though that was a challenge the day I fell on the floor due to neuropathy. But you come back. You swear some (naval swears are good), pick yourself up, make tea, settle on the couch with perky little dog, and call a friend who knows what you are going through.

That is a small taste of how I changed my script once I got cancer: starting a blog, assembling my "pit crew" of friends, contacting other cancer survivors for tips, buying cool stuff on Amazon, spending some days in PJs (but always drawing on my eyebrows), and getting to Mass when I could. It all helped.

At a different time in my life, when one of my dear ones came down with a chronic illness, I practiced similar survival strategies:

--going on the internet to find out all I could about this illness;
--joining an online support group whose members--some of them--could be counted on to be awake at 12 midnight when I had a question or needed support;
--praying without ceasing (and, as Paul said, "...in all circumstances give thanks." That can be hard.);
--calling my priest for advice and sobbing in his office as he supported me & gave me special prayers to say;
--calling my cousin who offered the single most helpful thing anyone ever said to me before and since, "Annie, you will get through this." I clung to that like a rosary throughout the worst of times, and guess what? We survived. All of us. A little tattered, a bit beaten up, but still standing.  (I do know that surviving is different for all of us, and the endings are not always grand.)  We found ways of dealing, and now it is pretty much behind us, though I am pretty sure my telomeres have been radically shortened.

All this is to say--when hard times come, change your script if you can. Get beautiful things when you feel yourself slipping. Go forest-bathing to lift your spirits. Call your buddies. Get a pit crew. Get someone to pray over you and bless you. A sprinkle of Holy Water won't hurt, either. Practice your faith, whatever it is; pray without ceasing, even when sobbing; drink good wine if possible; make good food if you have the energy; snuggle with your honeys and your dog or cats; and remember--you will get through this. You will. Count on it.