When the Cheerleader Loses Her Cheer

Imagine watching a sporting event and experiencing the powerful energy in cheering for your team. Cheering during a game engages the crowd and players. In addition, it intends to build hope. As a result, it becomes an excellent opportunity to inspire the belief that everyone can be a winner.

Throughout life, I was the "cheerleader." In comparison, the healthcare arena constantly struggles to achieve the best for patients. It is essential to recognize that health spans a continuum from illness to well-being and it represents several aspects, including mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual dimensions. Often, people teeter-totter to achieve a delicate balance. Some days are better than others, and some are completely overwhelming.

Believing is seeing, and seeing is believing

Those of us with advanced ovarian cancer want to believe that every infusion of chemotherapy/immunotherapy, every session of radiation, and every pill we may take will result in positive outcomes. The belief in ourselves and our treatment teams is central to considering survival.

However, the treatment protocols can be grueling. The symptoms can be unmerciful. It takes tremendous strength and character to continue. But this is where our besties, families, and advanced ovarian cancer network members can easily step in.

Engage in an inventory

Unsurprisingly, we can be in a space where we have "lost our cheer." It may simply be that we have reached our stress tolerance limit. In 1967, scientists Holmes and Rahe created a self-reporting tool to measure the amount of stress experienced from each life event. Since humans are rather complex, the tool allows us to produce rating scores that tell us when we are on edge and need to enter into self-care mode. Sometimes we might need to ask the world to back off!

Let me provide you with a real-life example

I have been learning how to live with a metastatic disease. Five years ago, I realized this was life-limiting. Nevertheless, some considered me one of the lucky ones. It is true; nothing is more precious than having an incredible husband and family. However, I also have a foundation of multiple challenging life experiences, which help build my resilience. In addition, my career supports a knowledge base to face traumatic events, including grief and loss. Plus, plus, and more pluses!

However, one day last week almost did me in. Suddenly, I awoke to one more unexpected event, which seemed monumental when added to various things presented over the previous few months.

Fixing deck chairs on the Titanic

You see, I had become complacent. I believed I could handle most things coming at me. Then, I suddenly required a thoracentesis to remove fluid from the lung. Next, I learned I had MRSA (an antibiotic-resistant organism) and evidence of another form of cancer. Anything else? Well, yes. Symptoms of a colon obstruction emerged, and emergency surgery was scheduled. At this point, I must admit, I questioned my ability to cope.

Nevertheless, in my usual fashion, I moved on and learned all that I could about managing a permanent colostomy. It was hard, and I openly admitted that "I hated it" as I, once again, tried to bargain with my surgeon. He just shook his head when I asked why he couldn't remove the mass in my colon. "Too risky," was his answer. "It would be like worrying about fixing the deck chairs on the Titanic."

The irony of it all

There it was. Someone other than me finally admitting I was dying. I mostly hear how good I look. I guess I should be grateful for that. But the truth is, I am having difficulty being my own cheerleader.

Ironically, or maybe not so much, the one extra thing that disturbed me was not solely about me. It was learning that my brother was losing his battle with end-stage renal disease. His symptoms manifested in a loss of clarity, and the reality of losing him and losing me became too real.

What can be done?

I certainly don't have all the answers. But I know that when feeling down, finding a release doesn't hurt. Mine was crying and putting my thoughts and feelings into words. I was afraid I couldn't stop the tears, so I turned to my spiritual side, which reminded me I am never alone. So I leave you with my blessing and this from Andra Day:

"You're broken, down and tired of living life on a merry-go-round ... I'll rise up. I'll rise unafraid."¹

Editor’s Note: We are extremely saddened to say that on August 9, 2024, Ellen Reed passed away. Ellen’s advocacy efforts and writing continue to reach many. She will be deeply missed.