Posted on June 21, 2010

Adjusting to a New Normal When You Have Cancer

Many cancer survivors refer to a “new normal” life. Here, tips for understanding and adjusting to your new reality, from Dear God, They Say It’s Cancer: A Companion Guide for Women on the Breast Cancer Journey by Janet Thompson

Two Sisters Share
“New normal” means I can no longer put off that trip, or writing my memoirs for the grandchildren, or passing along my faith to my children, or telling my family, “I love you.” “New normal” also means a full calendar with many scheduled visits to the doctors for treatments, blood tests, and scans. It sometimes means less energy, but the luxury of afternoon naps. It means limiting some physical activities like lifting groceries and laundry, carrying grandkids, leaning over the tub to bathe the dog, or running downstairs. It can mean a missed meeting or visit with family due to a low white blood count, which means my immune system is down, and I would probably catch whatever bug is going around. It also means becoming more humble. I have lost my hair three times… I have learned to live in the moment, and each moment has become precious.

It’s easier to do the important things, like going to a museum and having lunch with a friend, and let the unimportant things, like housework, go. Relationships with loved ones and friends become very important, and I have developed a deeper relationship with God.  — Nancy Tuttle

I have read that breast cancer and its aftermath are like a broken mirror — once you have had it, your life never fits back the way it went before. I see the struggle differently. For me it was an enforced unburdening. I had to let go of a great deal that had to do with the material world, to pare down, in order to muster the energy to fight the disease. My job slipped away; my unfinished dissertation gathered dust; everything that was not about tending and being tended by loved ones fell away. My connection with the outside world — through the cultural institution where I worked, with the preschool where my son, Oliver, goes, with my own school — receded. My one and only institutional affiliation, my new place of hope and healing and trials-by-fire and down-on-your-knees nausea, was my oncologist’s office and the nurses with their chemotherapy lifelines.  — Leslie Furth

Mentoring Moment
Initially, I fought the “new normal.” I would think, I am only having breast cancer and radiation, then I’ll get back to life. Have you had those thoughts too? We hope breast cancer is just a bump in the road, but it is more like a detour. BC often stands for breast cancer, but for me it meant “before cancer” — BC, I had a memory for detail, was a multitasker and organizer, and my husband balanced me with his calm, laid-back personality. At first, neither of us knew how to adjust to the changes in me. Out of necessity, we quickly learned to shift and change some roles. I always balanced the checkbook and paid bills, but now it took hours, and I made mistakes. Dave took over bill paying, and I readily relinquished it.

Another “old normal” that had to change was my role of social coordinator, planner, and hostess for our family gatherings. New traditions replaced the old. Since I had radiation at Christmas in the middle of the house remodel, we didn’t have our annual party or a Christmas tree, and I didn’t decorate. Instead, we made a manger scene with a washtub, straw, a borrowed doll, a hanging star, and a few stuffed sheep, and we put our presents around the manger. This actually became a “new normal” tradition for us.

The next step after accepting the new normal is helping family and friends understand and adjust to your new reality. Frequently I had to sit everyone down and explain I could not do the things I did before. When they became impatient with my forgetfulness or limitations, I patiently reminded them again…it was our new normal.

Are you feeling better now about your “new normal”? There is no point in fighting it, because we can’t. I would set deadlines based on BC energy and couldn’t meet them, which made me feel defeated. I had to drop out of some things — good things. I learned to delegate, cast off, say no, take rests, and refuse to feel guilty about the changes. You are going to have to do the same. Maybe this is God’s definition of normal.

Here are a few universal, basic “new normal” tips:

  • Simplify, simplify, simplify — meals might just be a big salad and fruit.
  • Save your energy for things you value most.
  • Lower expectations of others and yourself. This relieves stress — theirs and yours!
  • Say no and mean it.
  • Write things down — humbling but necessary.
  • Prioritize your schedule, and eliminate low-priority, high-energy projects.
  • Budget getting the house professionally cleaned, even if only twice a month.
  • Remember people are coming to visit you, not to do a House Beautiful tour.
  • Delegate, delegate, delegate — let someone else do something you have always done, and learn to be satisfied with the results.
  • If you are a night owl, go to bed earlier.
  • If you are an early-morning riser, try to catch another half hour of sleep.
  • Buy something you “normally” would not buy.
  • Wear something you “normally” would not wear.
  • Explain to your family your “new normal” — as many times as it takes.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Janet Thompson, author of Dear God They Say It’s Cancer: A Companion Guide for Women on the Breast Cancer Journey (Copyright © 2006 by Janet Thompson), quit her secular career to go into full-time lay ministry, starting the Woman to Woman Mentoring Ministry at Saddleback Church in Lake Forest, California. She is the founder and director of About His Work Ministries, also known as AHW Ministries, and is a frequent speaker on topics relevant to today’s Christian women. Janet has authored several products for her Woman to Woman ministry, including Praying for Your Prodigal Daughter. Janet and her husband, Dave, have four married children and nine grandchildren. They make their home in Lake Forest, California.

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