You’re Too Young To Be Here: The “C” Word

“You have cancer”!

It has been said, “Nothing really prepares you for those three words”. Imagine hearing those words without warning, as a child, a teenager, or an unsuspecting adult. Imagine the immediacy of the shock to an innocent person and to their loved ones. When those three words are spoken, the momentum of life stops.

One man declared, “The music of life died for me after hearing that I have cancer”. I didn’t understand at the time. He described that the meaning of everything in his life shifted; the normalcy and the struggles of his life faded into insignificance; even the sounds of nature disappeared.

In my case, as a male over 40 with a family history of prostate cancer, it wasn’t a total surprise to learn that I have cancer, since I suspected, that it would occur at some point in my life. As a result, I experienced several precursors before hearing those fateful three words, “you have cancer”.

Even so, the precursors didn’t negate the myriad of emotions that flooded over me when I received those three words; emotions that began and continue as a sort of rite-of-passage from being cancer free to living with cancer.

It all started with the initial shock when my routine PSA test results came back with a high above-normal result. It was with this news that my journey began. First with denial, my inner voice pushing back, “Yeah sure. Whatever. It’s a mistake”. Denial was followed by anger. My inner voice screaming to the heavens, “Give me a break!” I demanded to the great universal spirit. Anger was then followed with my attempt to negotiate. “OK, I can “will” the potential cancer away. I’ll just get in better shape, change my diet, meditate, begin alternative therapies, and apply loads of positive thinking; and all will be gone, all will be forgiven”.

At this point, armed only with a high PSA result and without any conclusive results from further in-depth testing, I began to think critically about my situation and considered the entire field of possibility. Almost immediately, basic human nature took over and my thoughts gravitated naturally to the worst-case scenario; I have cancer. I remained at this stage of my journey (living in fear, denial, anger, and attempting to negotiate my way out of it), until a biopsy was performed; and the results were communicated to me in those three words, “You have cancer”.

Armed with my precursor of a high PSA result and the awareness of my damning family history of prostate cancer, hearing “you have cancer”, was not a total shock. It did however, demand of me an immediate acceptance of my cancer; and I wasn’t quite ready to accept it yet.

I was sufficiently justified for what would come next, a deep depression. My path was now chosen for me, with the diagnosis and confirmation of intermediate-stage cancer. Radical treatment now a critical must, my freedom of choice gone. Oh my God, there’s nothing I can do but resign to my situation! So I settled comfortably into my resignation, along with equal amounts of self-pity and deep sadness.

I’m going to die.

The next slap in the face is to realize your own mortality. Regardless of how intimate you are with the inevitable law of nature that reinforces the fact that everything arises and everything passes away, rarely do you consider your own death with much frequency, until you begin living with cancer. And even when you learn, as it was in my case, you’re not going to die, you realize that death still occurs in smaller degrees within you, as you experience the death of innocence and ignorance as it relates to cancer. Next comes the removal and death of the prostate, and the related internal organs and tissue; and the death of their functions, including their purpose and their service to you which also dies. All of which was perfectly summarized by a good friend who matter-of-factly declared, “It’s like living with an amputation that know one will ever see”.

After my short-lived bout of depression, came a slow acceptance. It became time to push forward, not one to remain stuck; it was evolve or die.

“When you’re going through Hell, keep going!” ~ Winston Churchill

Isn’t it funny, that this seemingly linear path we follow when facing an unwanted challenge, beginning with denial, anger, negotiation, then depression, and followed by acceptance, is never really linear at all. After we’ve reached acceptance, our journey’s path tends to become more circular in nature, at times returning to the prior ways of being, but always coming back to acceptance. And as such, it continues to roll us forward like a gigantic flywheel. You stop being who you were, and become who you are; and who you choose to be.

With full acceptance comes choice. No longer able to stand still in resignation, I choose that my purpose and my impact on the world will be as critically important to me as my cancer. In fact, it has become even more important then anything I would face; whether the cancer itself, its treatment, or the related effects it would have on me. I will not allow cancer to constrain my purpose and intention in life, but I will allow its challenges to increase my drive and further motivate my purpose and my intentions.

I also choose to accept my cancer. It will be a positive learning experience, and a test of my resolve, and my true character.

From resignation to acceptance, the journey and the adventure begins, with new drive and vigor; and the realization that out of every death comes an opportunity for re-birth.

Photo Credit

Photo by Natanis Davidsen

This post is an excerpt from the upcoming book about a younger mans experience with prostate cancer,
titled “Hey You!!! You’re Too Young to be Here!!!”

Recent Greg Martin Articles:

• You Will Never Reach Your Goals
• Eliminate Stress Through Leadership
• Leaders On A QUEST
• You’re Too Young To Be Here: The “C” Word
• You’re Too Young to be Here: The Grey Army