Linda Legendre
Transforming her role as healer
Rebirth
The treatment for head and neck cancer created a busy schedule. Finally, on June 15, after three cycles of chemotherapy and 35 days of radiation, it was over. I thought I would soon be eating and hiking. I remember the radiation nurse saying on my final day that things may get a little worse before they get better even though the radiation was done. I had honed my information blocking skills by that point and didn't absorb that piece of information. It may not be everyone's experience, but I did have more discomfort after the treatment, and that's when the fatigue set in for me. I was not able to talk, and driving was out of the question with the medication I was taking. I was mostly still on tube feedings, so social gatherings were very limited. I'm a very relational person—my sister would say compulsively so. It was so difficult for me not to be able to communicate, particularly since it was my means of coping with the feelings I experienced during my illness. I found it more difficult to get up in the morning during that time because I had no reason to and no energy. It was hard to imagine that I would feel pleasure again in any form.
I remember our family July 4 cookout. I knew I would miss eating the good food, but I still went and brought my scrabble game so I could at least be around people. My voice was weak and it hurt to talk, so we played endless silent games with revolving teams and the day somehow passed. Even with my family nearby, I often felt quite isolated. E-mail was so helpful during that time to keep in touch with friends.
Once it didn't hurt my throat to cry, my grief about what I had experienced and my fears for the future let loose a torrent of tears. I am most grateful that my crying never scared away those close to me because I desperately need caring listeners. I wanted so much to have my life back the way it was before, but I could see that wasn't going to happen. My sister Karen persisted in posing this as an opportunity for an interesting redirection of my life. I couldn't find the optimism to consider that, and I really thought I would never be a positive and happy person again. This was my worrying stage. I had too much time on my hands, and I could keep myself awake at night for hours with the "what ifs." No one gave me the feeling they were sick of hearing about it, so I kept crying, talking and ultimately started to change my perspective. Despite the seriousness of the treatment and the impressive amount of warnings, many of the side effects didn't happen to me. I tried to adapt to the ones that did occur. I'd had many opportunities to observe resiliency in others with their illnesses and now I hoped to see it in myself.
The doctors had told me that when things started to get better it would happen quickly, and I can even pinpoint that very day for me. I had finished the radiation on June 15, and on July 6 I felt a real lessening of the throat pain. By the next week, I was eating food like corn on the cob. Within two weeks I was taking long walks, and I even ate out in a restaurant. I spent some of the summer on Cape Cod, so I did my recovering there on the beautiful beaches of Wellfleet and Dennisport. I was told not to get sun on my radiated skin, so I was the one at the beach under the umbrella wearing the turtleneck. There was plenty of family time and lots of scrabble. I eventually weaned myself off all the pain medicine and had to stop blaming my low scrabble scores on the drugs. My son and daughter finally returned to their lives in Copenhagen and Seattle as I improved. I had to remind myself many times that they were only going back home because I was so much better. The pleasure of their company was never diminished for me even in the midst of the trauma that brought them here.
At my August appointment, Dr. Posner performed some magic. He was so positive about my progress and excited about the end of my treatment. Somehow, the heaviness started to lift. I realized that if his words could make me feel better, then I could do that same thing for myself. It was like someone had been sitting on me and just decided to get off and let me stand up again. Previously, I had been seeing the rest of my life as long and lacking, but now I could see some of my old self reemerge.
I am thinner than when I started this whole treatment, but no one would call me fragile. My hair is growing back curly and is starting to look like an actual hairdo as I master the gel and mousse hair products. I have less saliva from the radiation, so I choose small social gatherings because they are more relaxing for a voice that doesn't project as well, and I can have some control over the menu. Those that don't center around food are even better for me. I see a nutritionist at Dana-Farber when I go for my monthly follow-up visits and she's been creative and respectful of my particular food preferences as I try to regain lost weight.
Coming to terms with the changes that are both physical and emotional will be an ongoing process. As I continue the process of healing myself, I hope to be transformed in my role as a healer, as well.
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