Dancing around the mental, physical and emotional impact of a life changing diagnosis, treatment and recovery.
Diagnosis
Sitting in the surgeon’s office at the hospital hearing that my tests were inconclusive, but highly suspicious so I needed to come back for further investigation, my first reaction was I didn’t have room in my schedule. “I can’t. I don’t have time. I started a new job yesterday. I can’t get away.” “You have to,” said the consultant. “This is life threatening and you have to start preparing yourself for the idea of treatment.”
Maybe I was in denial, but getting my diagnosis, and coming to terms with the idea of a long period of aggressive treatment, was made easier on hearing the words: “We find that patients who keep a routine tend to do better on treatment.” So there and then, in that moment, it was decided. I was going to follow every bit of advice from the medical team and the insight of those with lived experience, who told me to “Keep positive, because your body knows and it makes a difference”.
I've always had a tendency to over work. I wanted to make everyone happy and prided myself in my high standards. Working in the media, things were always busy and exciting. Deadlines were often short or challenging, yet I was determined to always meet them, often working late into the evening, or sometimes pulling all-nighters to launch new innovations that hadn't always been done before. I was putting work before myself, and ultimately that impacted my health.
Treatment So, first week in a brand new job, facing a diagnosis that would change my life and about to embark on a long and aggressive treatment plan. Had this been caused by stress? I will never know, but I do know that if I'd been taking better care of myself, taking time out, going a little slower, I could have spotted things weren't quite right a little earlier. And made some positive changes. Things changed overnight and I had to hand over my next few years to the treatment and recovery, putting my complete and utter trust in the medical team. The one thing I gleaned very quickly was that if you stayed positive, the body knew. So I followed the health team's advice to the letter and managed to continue working without a sick day off through chemo. Fruit and veg smoothies, drinking lots of water, long walks, nutrition, good hygiene, avoiding infections and dancing were all part of that recipe. Yes dancing. To my surprise (or relief), my nurse told me to avoid sweaty gyms and their shared yoga mats but was very happy for me to keep swing dancing. Provided my partner didn’t cough over me, she explained that the exercise and endorphins hit from the joy it brought would boost my weakened immunity.
My medical team was fantastic, completely arranging my treatment around work. Chemo was scheduled for Fridays, so I could recover over the weekend and be back at my desk on Monday. They signed me off work for six weeks post-surgery, then arranged my daily radiotherapy for 9am before I went to the office. And that was all going to plan until a concerned HR manager, noticed me hobbling around the office when I went back after the op and asked me to have another conversation with Occupational Health. So I happily agreed to another call.
My voice cracked as I realised that I wasn't going to win this argument. It was as though the Occupational Health nurse on the other end of the phone could see the welling tears I was fighting back. The words were stuck in my throat and they wouldn't come out. I'd come so far, working through chemo without a day off. I was on the mend now, just recovering from surgery, with three weeks of radiotherapy. The worst was over surely. I'd got through so much with minimal sick-leave - surely that was proof enough. I wanted to go back to work! "It's too soon. You need more time to recover. You're not the same person that I spoke to four months ago," the nurse said firmly. "Tell your manager. Sign yourself off again. Go back to your mum and have her make you macaroni cheese." Deflated, I kicked myself for being so stupid. The inner fire driving my recovery wanted to keep going now I was back at work, but the experienced OH nurse said I had gone back too soon. And needed to take off another two weeks. I tried to convince her I was ok, that there was really no need, and that was when I learned not to negotiate with someone who knows more about the importance of self-care than me. Hearing that little croak accepting defeat in my voice, the nurse swooped in on what she read as getting emotional. "Right! Make that FOUR weeks", she typed into the computer, doubling the time off she deemed me to need instantaneously. "We'll speak again in four weeks and you can tell me what you are doing to focus on your self-care recovery plan."
Recovery
I was impatient to get back to normal, yet the push and pull of demands from all directions brought overwhelm. Right now, there was nothing to do, but take a pause and go into safe cocoon. "You'll emerge like a butterfly," assured a respected former TV boss. "Liza v2.0". I liked that idea, and it set a goal. There was so much to do. It was time for a life audit on how to rest, nourish and nurture the body and mind, to come back strong and healed. What really matters in life? Good health? Family? Home environment? Career? Creativity? Social life? When you figure out what matters to you most, what you love and what your values are, then live by it, it empowers you to make the choices that are right for you.
So life was going to be different. It needed a rethink. But the beauty of it was, that it gave me the wake-up call to press the reset button and do things differently. To get through treatment, and keep my new job, I had to focus on being as resilient as I could. And that started with a positive mindset. I started to be more discerning, choosing more carefully who I let influence me, who I trusted, and whose advice I would follow.
A cancer diagnosis, treatment and recovery has a huge impact on one's physical, psychological and emotional wellbeing, so I followed all the support that I could get with that from the NHS and charities like Maggie’s. The statistics they gave me for practising Mindfulness and Yoga in relation to recurrence were so compelling it was a no brainer. Once I had a taste for the benefits of the sense of ease, comfort and relief that arose from these practices I started to feel safe again. As I began to get physically, emotionally and mentally stronger on the road to recovery, I wanted more. I wanted to train and qualify so that I could be become self-sufficient in managing my own wellbeing, then help others on their own healing journey. This is about being kind to yourself, figuring out what you need to nourish and nurture your needs, and allowing yourself the time and means to serve them. It was such a comforting and refreshing experience mastering these life skills, so in taking my learning further, I sought the best, most ethical, trusted and respected teachers both for my own survival and to facilitate this for others. That’s how I embarked on a continued process of training as a hypnotherapist and yoga teacher. On the road to recovery, this helped me rebuild my inner and outer strength, learning to overcome intrusive thoughts and emotions, replacing them with positive, healthy ones – and get physically strong enough to do handstands again. Before long, I was cartwheeling once more.
Support
It's really hard for people navigating health issues in the workplace. And also for those that manage them. Often these are valued, skilled and experienced employees. Keeping a routine, socialisation, a steady income can all be a critical part of their holistic care. They want to work and they need to work. Because I had a flexible support plan, I worked through chemo without a single day of sick leave. And that minimised the impact of my diagnosis, treatment and recovery on the business. And it maximised my ability to thrive through treatment, kept my morale up, was good for my mental and physical health. I kept moving every day, pumping oxygen around the body, keeping the systems going.
I don’t want people living with life-changing health conditions to struggle in navigating the physical, mental and emotional impact of a diagnosis, treatment and recovery at work. Taking time for self-care, for mindfulness, to breathe, to move, to rest, to nourish and nurture yourself is so important – and it needs to be balanced at work and at home.
It’s not always easy for managers and colleagues to absorb this. Everyone’s plate is probably already full. There’s enough to do. People might not know what to say. This is where I want to help. Having open conversations, coming up with workable plans, focusing on positive self-care, I want to support people living health challenges at work every step of the way. Of course, everyone is different, so every plan has to be unique, tailored in whatever way is right to help each individual and organisation navigate the moral, legal and financial implications of managing wellbeing at work.
Nine years on from my diagnosis, I’m cured, I finished treatment 12 months ago and am starting a new chapter. I’m embarking on a mission to help managers prevent employee stress and burn-out with holistic well-being and mindfulness plans, enabling their team to thrive and boost resilience, so the business and those in it can flourish. At the heart of this are people, facing challenges, who want to be well. With the right support, empathy and wellbeing care, they can harness the grit and determination it takes and focus on rebuilding their strength and resilience. Small things can make a big difference. The modifications don’t have to be huge and are often easier than you think. It’s down to the individual, what’s right for them and what will create the space and time they need for their treatment and recovery journey. When life gets disrupted by unexpected unwanted turns, kindness, understanding and adjustments go a long way. Drop me a line at ElizianDays@btinternet.com if you need help facing a well-being challenge at work or would like some support for your team.