Julia de’Caneva: I Survived Cancer and Here Is How I Did It

An Interview With Savio P. Clemente

Savio P. Clemente
Authority Magazine

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Get used to asking for help, it does not make you weak. So many people struggle to ask for help, and when you get diagnosed with cancer, there can be a knee-jerk reaction to want to keep it to yourself and handle it on your own. But you’re a human, and humans are communal. We require community to thrive. When the enemy is inside the house, so to speak, all the more reason to find support outside of yourself.

Cancer is a horrible and terrifying disease. Yet millions of people have beaten the odds and beat cancer. Authority Magazine started a new series called “I Survived Cancer and Here Is How I Did It”. In this interview series, we are talking to cancer survivors to share their stories, in order to offer hope and provide strength to people who are being impacted by cancer today. As a part of this interview series, I had the pleasure of interviewing Julia de’Caneva.

Julia de’Caneva is a Business Organizer + Coach, Gallup-Certified Strengths Coach, and UCLA-Trained Mindfulness & Meditation Facilitator. She helps small business owners strategize, organize, and simplify to beat burnout and find balance. Overworking and burnout brought Julia to a cancer diagnosis at 29, which inspired her passion for helping others find sustainable work-life balance.

Thank you so much for joining us in this interview series! We really appreciate the courage it takes to publicly share your story. Before we start, our readers would love to “get to know you” a bit better. Can you tell us a bit about your background and your childhood backstory?

I grew up in the beautiful north suburbs of Chicago, on the shores of Lake Michigan. Our street was paved with brick and had grand, hundred-year-old trees lining the deep parkways. My identical twin sister and I played outside every chance we got. Even in winter there were neighborhood kids climbing around snow formations and shoveling with glee, not realizing what a chore it really was. We took road trips to visit our older sister at college, always being sure to get some Indian food to-go for the trek home. Every Thanksgiving, 30+ relatives would gather at our house for a feast, belly laughs, and the occasional jam session.

Can you please give us your favorite “Life Lesson Quote”? Can you share how that was relevant to you in your life?

“How you spend your days is, of course, how you spend your life.” Annie Dillard

This is a beautiful reminder to stay present, stay mindful. There’s this pervasive idea in American culture that we’re always working towards later. The payoff is later, achievement is later. But later is not promised, so what the f*ck are you doing with your time right now? The present moment is the only one we have that’s not speculation or regret, so it behooves us to pay attention to it. So often we think that we’re chipping away towards a different life, when in fact, we’re simply building the only life we have.

It reminds me to take actions and make decisions in each day, each moment that align with the person I most want to be. That doesn’t mean I don’t watch plenty of Netflix, it just means that if I died the next day, I could look back knowing I spent my time as I intended to in that moment.

Let’s now shift to the main part of our discussion about surviving cancer. Do you feel comfortable sharing with us the story surrounding how you found out that you had cancer?

In June of 2018, my mother-in-law died suddenly, my husband and I felt like the proverbial rug got ripped out from under us. We flew back to our native Chicago to be with family and plan a celebration of life party. At the tail end of our trip, I got really sick: a brutal cold with a host of uncomfortable symptoms. As I massaged my swollen glands, I felt a lump in my neck, which I was pretty certain hadn’t been there previously. I made an appointment with an endocrinologist for October 1st, as that was the next available appointment for new patients.

I walked to my appointment, heart-racing and sweaty upon arriving, but glad for the fresh air and movement. Because time had passed and I apparently lose all agency when I walk into doctor’s offices, I nearly forgot to mention the lump in my neck, telling them simply I knew something was up with my thyroid. My doctor performed a neck exam and found the lump rather prominently hanging out on the left lower side of my throat. When I swallowed the lump moved up and down. I was sent for an ultrasound just a couple days later, or maybe it was the next day, time gets all wobbly when you get pulled into a health issue. Once the ultrasound confirmed a 1.7cm mass, I was to schedule a needle biopsy, which was as uncomfortable as it sounds.

I had an appointment scheduled with my endocrinologist to address the results, regardless of what they were, a couple days before my friend’s wedding. And thank goodness, because far too many people get told they have cancer over the phone. When my doctor walked in, she looked at me and said, “Well, it was what we were hoping.” But of course, by this point, I already knew it would be cancerous. The lump was uncomfortable and large, intuitively it just didn’t seem like a cyst. I was strangely calm, which I later recognized as simply being present. I wasn’t trying to run away from the experience, and it made it less scary and overwhelming.

What was the scariest part of that event? What did you think was the worst thing that could happen to you?

The scariest part is navigating your own care. I was unlucky enough to get the “good” cancer (thyroid cancer) which meant I never worked with an oncologist, instead my endocrinologist handled everything; that would have been fine had they not forgotten to share all of the oncology resources with me. I was left to schedule my own radiology appointments, ultrasounds, and the like. I was left to figure out what part of healing made me feel truly well versus what fit into their chart of “normal”. It’s hard to be in such a steep learning curve and know which decisions make the most sense, much less advocate for what you think you need, based on information you just received minutes prior. Cancer is a world no one asks to dive into, and yet there isn’t an easy way to get up to speed on your own experience other than trial by fire.

Because thyroid cancer is typically slow-growing, there wasn’t the same overwhelming sense of urgency with my tumor. Post-surgery we confirmed that it was in fact more aggressive than they initially thought, which was apparently highly unusual for a female my age; even my cancer cells were over-achievers, sheesh! Slow-growing or not, mortality gives you a nice slap in the face with any cancer diagnosis, and the veil of certainty floats away forever. The worst thing would have been either that they found the cancer spread far beyond my neck and/or that the surgery damaged my vocal cords and I would be voiceless. In retrospect, the worst thing that could happen now is that I squander my days away doing something I don’t care about for people I don’t care about.

How did you react in the short term?

After my mother-in-law’s passing, I was knee-deep in grief, finally seeking a therapist for the first time. I was understandably bereaved, and resolved to let myself feel how I felt. That said, I didn’t feel much motivation for work, and when I found the lump in my neck, I was exceedingly unfocused at work. My coworkers and boss were incredibly gracious and understanding. I wasn’t frantic, but rather my brain felt like the densest fog. Of course, being quite hypothyroid certainly didn’t help, as one of its hallmark symptoms is brain fog.

Before surgery, I officially took time off of work, and that slow-down was more beautiful than I ever could have planned. It brought with it a sense of calm, and what I now understand to be presence and equanimity. At the time it felt like a deep peace with what was happening and a bright, beautiful new lens on the world: the birds chirping were so lovely, the sun shining seemed to sparkle, and the simplest moments were full of joy.

After the dust settled, what coping mechanisms did you use? What did you do to cope physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually?

Slowing down to accommodate surgery and admitting I felt poorly dropped me into a beautiful state of presence and mindfulness. I recognize now that my sense of natural mindfulness can be cultivated, and in 2019, set out to find the ways to be the most chill I could possibly be. This included gentle movement, long walks outside, and learning new skills and hobbies. I engaged in things simply for the fun of it, and was lucky enough to cut back my work hours. I loved going to therapy and continue to this day. I can’t recommend it enough, especially for the verbal processors out there, like me. I always tried to allow myself to feel exactly as I was feeling, although sometimes you have to fake it in a client meeting when you’re feeling blue, or hold in that sigh until you get in your car.

In the meditation world, I hear all about how resisting our emotions is far more stressful than actually feeling our emotions, and I can’t agree with that more. I have a daily seated meditation practice, and also try to engage mindfully with everything I’m doing throughout the day. If I get into Energizer Bunny mode, I know it’s time to stop and take some deep breaths, go for a walk, or take a nap. Can we normalize napping?

Is there a particular person you are grateful towards who helped you learn to cope and heal? Can you share a story about that?

As cliche as it may be, I am so grateful for my husband in this whole process. Since 2007, he’s been inspiring me to be my best self. Even when he’s not trying, he reminds me to take a deep breath and take a step back. He has a calm presence, which was so wonderful to have especially as we navigated uncharted territory.

It’s hard to pinpoint one particular story to sum up his support. If I can paint a picture, he’s the kind of person who unloads the dishwasher first thing in the morning before I get to it, lets me nap while he prepares dinner when I’m not feeling well, stocks my favorite berries and snacks, holds my water and then some on hikes, tucks in my blankets when it’s chilly, encourages me to follow my curiosities and interests, surrenders the TV to watch his shows on his iPad, and makes sure every dinner guest is fully accommodated before sitting down to his own plate. He loves to make food to share from scratch, send me cute bunny videos online, and delight in simple pleasures like a witty Reddit comment or curling up by the fireplace.

Could I have coped without him? Probably. But would it have been 1,000% less heart-warming and life-affirming? Yes. Just like a dog excited to see its owner coming home from work, I am delighted to see my husband every time, even when I just bump into him in the kitchen from the other room. He’s the reason I don’t know what it’s like to feel lonely and I’m so lucky to have such unwavering support.

In my own cancer struggle, I sometimes used the idea of embodiment to help me cope. Let’s take a minute to look at cancer from an embodiment perspective. If your cancer had a message for you, what do you think it would want or say?

My cancer would say, “Don’t forget you’re more than just your brain. You’re a body, and a highly sensitive one at that. Embrace it, learn how to take care of yourself. For real this time, because that’s all there is. It’s either health or nothing.”

What did you learn about yourself from this very difficult experience? How has cancer shaped your worldview? What has it taught you that you might never have considered before? Can you please explain with a story or example?

I learned so much from my cancer experience, in many ways it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Cancer gave me the reason to confront my mortality and embrace it. Understanding how fragile and finite life is has not made me deeply afraid or cynical, as I might have thought, but rather it’s helped me live even more fully in the present moment. I have access to ease, joy, and relaxation I never did pre-cancer. I was always on the go, doing more and more so I didn’t have to face any harsh realities. No coping was my coping mechanism and I was drowning in anxiety. I have completely overhauled the way I think about work and my time, really everything.

I’ll set the scene, it’s the end of the 2014, I’m working as a graphic and web designer for several different agencies, nevermind my nights and weekends working retail. I’m trying to scratch an itch, but the only way I knew how to find it was to do more work, to take on more projects. Reader: the solution was not to take on more projects or more work. Having more projects simply meant more plates to balance, but not more difficult plates. That itch still wasn’t satisfied. And you know what, it never was with work. At my peak I had 7 different jobs and yet I still wanted something more.

Turns out that the something more, and consequently the most rewarding challenge I’ve taken on thus far has been learning how to deeply take care of myself. School taught me everything from eco-science to writing critical literary analyses, but it sure as hell didn’t teach me the basics of how to conserve my energy as an empath, how to cook nourishing, whole foods, or that just because the stamina of my brain can far surpass my physical stamina doesn’t mean I’m not valuable, and crucially, I don’t have to follow everything my brain tells me.

There is such freedom in not being a servant to your own brain, which, let’s face it ,is just a dopamine junkie looking for a fix. The natural sense of presence and mindfulness I experienced in slowing down post-cancer, was a calm I hadn’t known before. It was without worry for uncertainty, and didn’t require actually knowing anything. It’s what I found to be known in the meditation world as beginner’s mind (“don’t know mind”) mixed with impermanence (that everything has an ending, good, bad, and neutral). It gave me permission to not only not know things, but to be actively and openly curious in times when I was in over my head. To a former perfectionist, that used to be my kryptonite: trying to be great at everything even when it was something I was just learning.

How have you used your experience to bring goodness to the world?

Cancer is what inspired me to become a coach. I have always enjoyed holding space for people, teaching, and learning about human behavior, all elements of both web design and professional home organizing, which is my background. That said, I never got to witness or guide people through sustainable transformation in a way that really nourishes my soul, so I wanted to try my hand. I now combine my Gallup CliftonStrengths Coaching certification with mindfulness and decluttering to deliver powerful, sustainable life changes for burned out small business owners. I know exactly how burnout brought me to cancer, and I want to be a guide for people wanting to get out of the cycle of burnout for good. Leaving burnout behind means prioritizing one’s health above everything, which is not a mindset most of us learned in school.

What are a few of the biggest misconceptions and myths out there about fighting cancer that you would like to dispel?

Oh boy, there are so many problematic ways society has taught us to think and talk about cancer, not in the least of which being the whole language around “fighting” cancer and being a warrior. This language is not rooted with the patient/survivor themselves, but rather as a way to make other people feel better. I know it sounds harsh, but I really think fighting has been created as the norm for cancer patients because people don’t want to admit that sometimes like is unfair, hard, and just plain sucks. It doesn’t make you a better cancer patient to “fight” versus what, give up? Isn’t there some dignity in surrender?

That said, some cancer patients like to call themselves warriors because it gives them a sense of agency. That’s great, if it helps them feel like they can live life with intention, on their terms, just so long as they’re not using it just to make the people around them less afraid. It’s OK to be afraid, and the burden often gets shifted to the patient to spare the feelings of people around them. So, they call themselves warriors to ensure others that they’re not giving up. The best thing you can do is take cues from the patient directly to understand what kind of language suits them. I’ve had a number of fellow cancer patients talk about wanting to love themselves and their bodies so much that their cancer goes away. The tricky part about fighting cancer is that it’s literally a part of you, it’s an existential crisis to declare war on your own cells.

Beyond the semantics however, lies another issue: society has been told that cancer is something you get, you either get treatment or you die (and often we don’t talk about this reality much). In reality, cancer often is a chronic illness, one treated over many years. At minimum it’s something people have to monitor forever, even if you’re declared cancer-free. There isn’t really a moving on from cancer, but rather a moving forward with.

Fantastic. Here is the main question of our interview. Based on your experiences and knowledge, what advice would you give to others who have recently been diagnosed with cancer? What are your “5 Things You Need To Beat Cancer? Please share a story or example for each.

One of the scariest parts of getting diagnosed with cancer is the reality that what you’re trying to beat is inherently a part of you. There’s no separation between “good” and “bad” like there is in a traditional conflict. This dichotomy demands respect and in that, a mindset shift. It’s impossible to shift your mindset overnight, but it is possible. In fact, it’s really the only thing you have control of. Ever. As you learn to embrace your new reality, there are some suggestions I want to offer you.

  1. Get used to asking for help, it does not make you weak. So many people struggle to ask for help, and when you get diagnosed with cancer, there can be a knee-jerk reaction to want to keep it to yourself and handle it on your own. But you’re a human, and humans are communal. We require community to thrive. When the enemy is inside the house, so to speak, all the more reason to find support outside of yourself.
  2. Explore your mortality. No matter how optimistic your it’s important to acknowledge that we all will die. Embracing mortality can be downright liberating, especially in a world where everyone tries to sugarcoat everything. As they say, it’s like putting lipstick on a pig. When you have a potentially fatal illness, it’s critical that you realize death is very much possible in order to make the decisions that matter to you the most. If you always think you’ll have tomorrow, you can’t think holistically about your care and your wellbeing.
  3. Invite in and invest in as much support as you can. Even if you don’t have the funds (hello, hospital bills!), there are hundreds of cancer scholarships and grants and opportunities to get support you need. Ask one of your eager friends to help you apply to a bunch of programs if you’re not feeling physically up to it; and hey, at least it’s not another coloring book or casserole! I’m talking about signing up for 1:1 therapy, somatic experiencing, bodywork, coaches, sound healers, nutritionists, dieticians, naturopaths, you name it. To reiterate, humans are communal beings. We need the support of others. And chances are, this is your first time having cancer, so why on earth would you know what you’re doing?
  4. Try mindfulness and meditation. I know this is the most cliché recommendation, but it’s true. Mindfulness gives us tools to be present, to soak up as much of each moment as can, and to have a better relationship with our thoughts. Having this presence and presence of mind can completely shift your experience of adversity. It gives you tangible tools to help you regulate your nervous system, which is tremendously helpful during doctor’s appointments, treatments, scans, blood draws, and biopsies, not to mention in literally every other life scenario. Secular mindfulness is rooted in universal human experience, which means you don’t have to have a particular set of beliefs to try it out and gain its benefits. The more tools you can give yourself for working with your nervous system and mind, the smoother your cancer process can be.
  5. Don’t manage other people’s feelings. When you’re the cancer patient, people will either lean in or lean away. Even the people closest to you might require you to help them feel better without meaning to. Even telling someone you have cancer can feel like an unfair bombshell to drop on someone, but it’s not. Do not refrain from telling people to avoid feeling uncomfortable. Most people don’t take intentional time to confront their mortality, and more often spend their whole lives running away from it. You bringing up cancer shatters that denial, which is both uncomfortable and important. Don’t sugar coat things that aren’t meant to be sugar coated. Own your reality and let other people manage their own feelings, that’s their responsibility. Of course, you can still be thoughtful, but don’t bend over backwards to make sure people feel comfortable.

These suggestions aren’t for you to physically overcome your disease, but instead how to live most fully with your disease. Because isn’t that the crux of it? No matter how much time you have left (none of us know), how can you live with the most presence and intention in service of what you love and what deeply matters to you.

You are a person of great influence. If you could inspire a movement that would bring the most amount of good to the greatest amount of people, what would that be?

I dream of a world where everyone shows up unabashedly as themselves, authentic and unafraid. People lean into their own strengths and allow others to do the same, so that we’re all working in harmony as a collective. It’s about respect and freedom, which comes with emotional intelligence, openness, and acceptance. I believe this would be the catalyst to end many of the major causes of suffering, because people’s open hearts could come together to create real, sustainable solutions.

We are very blessed that some very prominent names in Business, VC funding, Sports, and Entertainment read this column. Is there a person in the world, or in the US with whom you would love to have a private breakfast or lunch, and why? He or she might just see this if we tag them. :-)

If I could have a private breakfast or lunch with someone prominent, I would want to dine with Jonathan Fields. I have attended several GLP Zoom community calls during COVID lockdown, and I can’t help but feel we are kindred spirits. I love his Sparketype philosophy and deeply believe in his ethos. With some acquaintances in common, we’re sure to find plenty of topics to discuss.

How can our readers further follow your work online?

You can find me online at julia.coach or on Instagram at @life.coach.julia.

Thank you so much for sharing these important insights. We wish you continued success and good health!

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Savio P. Clemente
Authority Magazine

TEDx Speaker, Media Journalist, Board Certified Wellness Coach, Best-Selling Author & Cancer Survivor