Out of the Fog

A few days later the cancer diagnosis was confirmed. Heather accompanied me to meet David, the Oncology Surgeon, who carefully and in a compassionate way, gave me some alternatives. But one of them was not my preferred choice, a bilateral mastectomy. He gently but firmly explained how the enormity of this operation could increase the risk of a second stroke. He also emphasised the need to deal with the cancer quickly to avoid its potential spread. With my injured brain reeling from this discussion, I couldn’t think through the alternatives clearly to make a decision about which was best. I was grateful to Heather who asked the questions and wrote down the answers and other notes during the appointment for me with David to read later as my brain could remember little of what he had explained. The brick wall arose again shielding my brain from the need to make decisions. But my anxiety was rising, as I knew I had to make a critical decision with limited capacity. At my next visit to Ken two days later, he began with breaking the news of the confirmed diagnosis of Type II Diabetes. I said: “I have something even better than that – I have breast cancer.” In the next few seconds of silence, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. What I thought was only one mountain to climb, even two, now there were three! We talked about the alternatives that David had discussed and I understood the rationale for his suggestion for lumpectomy. I went home loaded with resources from the Cancer Council and the diabetes industry in some kind of a daze: Is death coming for me soon? Is there any point in trying to recover the stroke? Is it futile for me to try to work? My scrambled brain found it too difficult to comprehend and retreated into disbelief. I felt that I was closer to dying than I had felt even at the depths of my despair in hospital. I went to bed and slept for several hours to hide from the world. When I woke, the memory of my visit to Ken’s clinic was still there. I tried to distract myself by watching television but my brain now seemed to be more scrambled, my thoughts racing with no order or resolution. I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t understand what people were saying on the screen, I didn’t know where to turn and couldn’t think logically through any actions. For the first time in recent weeks after working as positively as I could, it seemed like a hopeless situation. I was devastated, beyond tears. My mind was in a confusion that swirled around like a thick fog. I contacted Heather and Annette to let them know about the diabetes diagnosis. They were both shocked, again. But as always, they supported me with the warmth and optimism that they had shown me on every occasion when I needed to talk. With their practical approaches and their reassurance that they were there for me in dealing with these new challenges, I began to believe the reality, dismissing the momentary idea that I could let nature take its course – and fight! But I felt worn out from the previous few weeks in my effort of clambering towards success – and now I had lost my way in my journey. For the second time in a few short weeks I was aware of my lack of capacity to think about where to begin. Sleep was my escape. During the next conversation with Adele, I exhausted myself with trying to come to terms with how to deal with these illnesses. My diary records how I felt that my language was ‘sloppy’, I frequently stumbled, and my voice sounded like it was ‘outside my head’. I struggled with concentration for more than a few minutes at a time and my self-esteem was gone. Adele’s gentle reassurance suggested that what I saw as a calamity, could be an opportunity. At that time I couldn’t agree even though she was positive and genuine in her manner. Knowing that I had never sought solace in any faith we laughed when she suggested that: “….the universe might be trying to tell you something.” I woke early the following morning and as I set out for my walk I couldn’t think of anything else but the enormity of the situation and how I could solve these problems. My thoughts were racing from one issue to another and I couldn’t focus on my auditory exercises while I walked. The life activities that I had enjoyed observing so much each morning in my local community, meant nothing. I felt like I hadn’t made any progress at all. But I must have walked at a fast pace for the most part, because as the endorphins kicked in, I felt my mood changing and by the time I returned home I had decided that I needed to find a role model, paradigm, template, procedure or framework – anything – to help me organise my life and give me some direction! That morning I wondered what my life would be like for the next few months. How many medical appointments for stroke, cancer and diabetes would I have, knowing that I would also soon have cancer surgery and 25 days of radiation therapy? It took me working very slowly for almost six hours to set up a spreadsheet. It revealed potentially a total of 82 appointments that I could predict – recognising that there could also be others that might be unexpected. This is logistically impossible! I will not spend my life in doctors’ surgeries! What can I do? Over most of that weekend I spent many hours trying to think or search the Internet to find any information on recovery programs, looking for a practical, understandable guide to give me some direction. But in my state of heightened anxiety – or hopelessness – I could find nothing to deal with these three illnesses together. Perhaps there is nothing! I spent a very restless night with little sleep. I knew that what I needed was a different way of thinking. But what is it? My limited ability to think laterally as a result of the stroke was holding me back. Am I looking at the wrong information? As I sat at the computer for another session of searching I wondered if any of my clients could give me some inspiration. Many were high-profile in their careers and their lives. I began to look for these high-achievers. There were so many that I had worked with over the previous 25 years across all occupations from many parts of the world. What are the commonalities among these high achievers? How do they achieve their targets time after time? What keeps them striving for their personal best each day? I began to select categories of clients among those whose careers had focused on achievements: business, engineering, sales, sport, dance, music, research and several others. It was inspiring to read their histories again and to reflect on the way that I had guided and collaborated with them in building their careers. I could feel myself growing more positive and motivated as I re-read their achievements and learned from the way that they had succeeded. By the time I attended my next appointment with Ken, I had a plan.