What I Have Learnt from Having Cancer

Be patient with yourself.

I was just newly turned nineteen the year I was diagnosed with Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia. That year I had spent my days at Ecole de danse contemporaine de Montreal, pursuing a college degree in the interpretation of contemporary dance. Evenings were spent being in street-styled dance classes at Studiodanse Montreal-Paris, often until late for rehearsals with their competitive Hip Hop troupe. Weekends were spent in rehearsal at Tripoli studios as an agency member in training and rehearsals. All this to say, I was dancing 7 days a week and during the week, the entire day. I loved it. That summer was spent in New York at the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre, then I came back to immediately begin my summer intensive at EDC for my second year in the program.

That was the year I burnt out.

Immediately after being diagnosed with cancer, I had to begin treatment. I remember turning to my mother in tears, the first thing I said was “what am I going to do about dance?” I felt the sands of my hourglass slipping away along with all the expectations I had for my future.

I had to learn to slow down not because I wanted to, but because my body did. There was no choice but to listen. During my recovery, I felt guilty for not taking back-to-back dance classes, then later thought maybe I was becoming lazy and creating excuses for myself. The reality was that a more balanced lifestyle was due for me. It was time to recognize when I was tired and instead of pushing through, to rest. It was difficult because society has a tendency to cultivate people to do the contrary.

I was trying to find a sense of control in my life again and most importantly a sense of control over my body. I was demanding towards myself, not only did I beg my body not to fail me, but I wanted it to become strong, flexible and agile. I wanted it to dance! With time, I realized the importance of delayed gratification. Good things take time. The award later would be greater than anything else, it would be good health and what is anything in life if without good health?

Like many, there was the tendency of being my own toughest judge. Our standards towards ourselves often differ from the one’s we have for others. Contrary to the expression of treating others the way we wish to be treated, I had to treat myself the way I would treat others. Meaning, with patience, I was fighting cancer after all.

Sometimes, just taking a moment to look back and acknowledge how far you have come can help put things in perspective. Often our minds are focused on all there is left to accomplish, forgetting our previous accomplishments. Whenever you feel your headspace being cluttered with negative thoughts, try shifting it to a place of gratitude instead. From there, you will feel more open not only towards yourself, but to those around you.

If it doesn’t kill me it will make me stronger… After I survive the depression and anxiety.

I learnt that the mental battle was far more difficult than the physical. To be fighting cancer was one thing, however coping and integrating myself back into my old life was a whole other thing. Some see the survival of cancer as a glorious moment of existential realizations, but personally I dealt with silent battles, confusion, deep sadness and ultimately a denial of the whole experience. The contrast of my reality before and after my diagnosis was hard for me to grasp. I was being tested, broken down and rebuilt. My long hair was cut off and some of my extraordinary classmates did the same in solidarity for me. My body was fed chemotherapy, slowly my muscle mass left me. The strength of my mind was tested, as a lot of my time was spent in isolation in a hospital room. Every day I hoped for my immune system to be well enough for me to leave the hospital and go home. I thought leaving the hospital would allow me to feel better , but the anxiety and depression followed me.

I grew up handling situations I saw as “negative” by sweeping them into my closet of demons and by writing, but rarely would I share about them or reach out to others. In all my eagerness, I went straight back to school, trying to make up for my “lost time”. Little did I know that just as my body needed to heal, so did my mind and soul. I was so determined to sweep this into my closet of dark things, but it just kept following me like a shadow. How was I suppose to be at peace with my being and find light in my life when I was subconsciously living in the shadows? Eventually I began my journey outside the cave. I began learning about mindfulness, meditation and slowly, very slowly began opening myself up to the world again.

The thing about mental illnesses is that if you do not have it, chances are you do not fully understand it and what is worst is that even if you have it, you may not fully understand it either. Simple tasks become a mission, getting out of bed is enough of a victory. I began reading about how to strengthen my mind and find a healthy balance in my life. In no time the “well-being/ self help” section of bookstores was where I searched for answers.

I learnt to think critically and realized how important it is to simply be aware of our thoughts. It is important to recognize the patterns of our mind in order to develop different thought patterns instead. The power of the mind is often overlooked, but the connection between body and mind is undeniable. I would like to suggest observing your mind from time to time. Are you letting your mind run on auto-pilot or are you in tune with yourself?

This sole experience does not define my whole entity.

I had trouble talking about it in fear that the fact I was diagnosed with cancer would change the way people saw me completely. It did not help that I was transitioning from teen to young adult and simply wanted to be “normal”… I did not want unnecessary sympathy or pity. Apologies were by far the worst for me, I never understood the “I’m so sorry”’s. I avoided bringing any attention to it on social media.

My decision was to tell a handful of people and these people would then tell their respective crowds. It was basically only anyone I would see on a regular basis; so my classmates, people I danced with, my close friends and my family. I was fortunate to have a support group of pure gold (you know who you are and I love you all deeply and carry gratitude for you eternally) and that was all I needed. News slowly spread anyways, I could tell that people did not know how to go about talking to me about my health. It was only natural since I was not addressing it at all, in fact the subject made me uncomfortable.

I eventually learnt that people saw my silent battle as inspiring, and most importantly I was fortunate enough to learn to see myself not as a cancer victim, but a cancer survivor. This experience became a part of my story and my story did not begin there, nor does it end there.

In life, we can learn to see the experiences we live the way we choose to, sometimes a simple shift in perspective can completely change how an experience affects you and contributes to who you are. Taking time to see an experience in a larger picture can also help put things into perspective so that we can transform it into one with a positive impact rather than negative.

Communication really is key.

The more I began to open up and communicate my feelings, the less weight I felt inside. Suddenly there was an open exchange and not just an inner dialogue of stories I told myself. A lot of times, that’s all it ends up being, just stories we tell ourselves. I had a lot of trouble with this, still do sometimes, but in realizing that everyone has their own stories and battles and that the things we each live are more universal than we think, I learnt to open up and share more with others. My compassion for others grew, as did my curiosity to learn about their stories. Not only did I feel better, but my relationships with people deepened and strengthened.

It takes a moment of bravery to decide to open up and express ourselves, it is not always easy but I promise you it is worth it.

Vulnerability is strength.

I learnt that it takes courage to simply live and that being vulnerable is our greatest strength. The capacity to feel despite how discomforting it is, is the birthplace for creation and innovation. (Thank you Brené Brown) Every day I am learning to embrace my vulnerability, my human-ness/ my human mess and this has allowed me to see that opening up and being vulnerable allows deep connections to be created and possibly good art to be made as well. The idea of perfection is boring compared to the idea of being real. What’s a breakdown, if not a spiritual enlightenment?

I encourage all of you to bathe in your vulnerability, to shed your shiny armour and trade it for the soft, resilient, flesh that you are. To wear your scars proud and to let yourself be seen.

Cancer research is not what we need to fund, our health is.

After going through chemotherapy treatment and being in and out of hospital and in 2014, in remission, I felt stuck. After living something so traumatic, but not speaking much about it, I didn’t know how to address it. Most people fighting or having survived cancer often do things to raise awareness or funds for research. But this just did not sit well with me or felt in line with my values. Without going into too much depth about it, I have always been someone who saw the Western medical industry as a business. Medicine doctors study medicine, but we are what we eat. It is important to study the nutrition we find in nature. Healthy people do not make money for the medical industry, neither do dead people. I wanted to go further and bring awareness to people’s health before this stage. To raise awareness for prevention, not treatment. Education, not medication. To educate ourselves on how important our diets are and to live pro actively to ensure our health is in our own hands and not in the hands of corporate companies.

I am someone petite, so all my life I was told I could eat whatever I want because it would never affect me, but this was not true. There is an abundance of information out there about food, that it is shocking to see that there is not more of an emphasis on it in our education system. The very knowledge that could be applied to our daily lives, well-being and survival has been neglected.

To conclude, I encourage you to learn to think more critically, to be less accepting of all the information we are fed, to be hungry for knowledge and to finally become healthy, an activist, or whatever it is you dream of before having to live an experience like this. I believe in you, I really do and lest we forget that we are resilient beings! I hope that if you can relate in any way, to be open despite how much you may want to close off, to choose to feel, to be vulnerable and to connect.

Proud survivor of Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia,

Miranda Chan

Montreal, Canada