When I was first diagnosed with cancer, everybody and their mother was telling me what to do, how to handle it. Some advice was so off it made me want to stick my fingers in my ears and chant “blah, blah, blah” like a three year old.
This is one of many reasons why I wrote my book Everything Changes. I wanted advice that didn’t make me regress to toddlerhood. I wanted really smart advice that I hadn’t seen anywhere else. I wasn’t finding it in other books or cards or tee shirts. So I found it in long intimate conversations with other cancer patients.
The end of my five-hour conversation with Wafa’a really stuck out to me. She described herself as always being hyper with fear, constantly on the run, going clubbing, to yoga, hanging out with friends. (Yep, that gorgeous woman with the disco ball is Wafa’a.) And, she was a ball of energy in our conversation too – quite wise but loaded with freneticism. And then at the end of our conversation, she busted out with this really calm, clear statement that blew me away. Here it is:
“Right now, I just tell myself what I would tell anyone who just got diagnosed: It’s just one day at a time. Remember to breathe. Be a little selfish and don’t feel guilty. Tell people how you feel and be open. Remember to tell people that you love them. Don’t play games, don’t be fake, don’t try to be tough all the time. If you need denial right now to get through, do it. If you need to cry and feel it every day, do that, too. You’re not alone, no matter how alone you feel, and you will feel alone, ’cause you feel like you’re the only one going through it. And we are, because we’re all different in our own way. But there are people out there that can kind of understand, and when you’re ready, they’ll be there for you.”
I’m curious, if you were to give advice to someone who was recently diagnosed, what would you say?
“Everything Changes is, without doubt, the most forthright, emotionally sophisticated, and plain-old valuable book of its kind I've seen.”
