ONE JOURNEY WITH CANCER
By Maajiitaaziibiikwe, Mary Sam
Cancer. All of us have been impacted by this terrible disease, either personally or having a family member or friend who have or are traveling this journey. Miigwech to Ishkode (Carol) Hernandez who offered to share her journey with others, so they don’t have to feel so alone. There often aren’t the right words to use as we talk about a disease that has left its mark deep within our communities. Cancer doesn’t seem to care about the culture, heritage, gender, or age when it chooses its victims.
This story is written to provide space to honor those suffering, healing, and for some, celebrating remission; hoping for non-reoccurrence of the cancer. It is for those who don’t know how to start or navigate the difficult layers in front of them, perhaps hearing some ways that have helped Ishkode.
For those of you that don’t know Ishkode, she is an active 73-year-old Elder, artist, teacher, employee, and community volunteer. She is in remission from Stage 1b (invasive small cell lung cancer). Her cancer is considered terminal, not curable, yet today, her cancer is in remission. She is hopeful as with new medical advancements, when finding cancer early, there may be some cures in some cases of cancer.
Having lost her mother and father to cancer, along with other family members impacted, she has definitely been impacted by this disease. She attributes her strength in facing her own illness as a result of learning about cancer through family experiences, the realization that she would not be immune to cancer, and learning as much as she could, as quickly as she possible about her diagnosis. Ishkode provided a number of examples of tools that have helped her and her family over time.
Ishkode took time to talk to herself about her diagnosis prior to sharing with her children and family. “I needed to know how I felt about my diagnosis and to come to terms with what this meant for me.” She didn’t want to give her family false hopes. She knew it was ok to feel anger, but was clear that she couldn’t afford to “live in anger and bitterness” as it would not help in her treatment or healing. “Once I accepted that I had cancer, I knew I needed to accept that I needed to share space with cancer. She described feeling numb at first, remembering family member's experiences, and knew she needed to find a way to have a difference experience than those she loved. She decided to not feed it with anger and fear, which is what cancer wanted her to do.
Ishkode did not want cancer to dictate her life. She noted, “just because I have cancer, I will not believe that my life then or now is over.” She needed to accept the things that she could not change and try to find the courage to change some things that were within her power, like her diet. Cancer feeds on sugar, so she has tried to get that out of her diet, eating more protein, to help during the treatment processes. Making immediate changes was not easy, but not wanting cancer to define her meant she “needed to create a healthier mindset and get more active.”
Sharing news of a cancer diagnosis with family is not an easy task, but she is certain that her own clarity about the disease not only has helped her, but helped her children and others. She described the personal, challenging conversations that started years before her diagnosis, as her multiplying family losses helped her think about preparing herself and family for her own journey someday. “Knowing that I will pass at some point, how I want to go, preparing a health directive, how I want to proceed with a terminal illness, having a will in place, not only has helped me let go, but it has helped my kids.” She wishes more families would take this time, it’s not easy, but it helps down the road when difficult decisions need to be made or when your loved one passes. Her acceptance that at some point she will be going home has helped others she loves and who love her deal with this better. Having conversations is key. This has helped her to accept her own journey and supporting family to trust the process. Still, not an easy journey. “I needed to find a way to be positive, committing to finding ways to keep everyone posted, and a strong commitment to try to live positively and fight this disease.”
In the midst of this, she found the strength and courage to put as many things in place as possible; such as health care directives, wills, lifesaving efforts, burial plans, having someone to speak on her behalf, and leaving a copy of her plans with family. Hard, but simpler things she described, focused on cutting her hair to one inch so it was easier to deal with hair loss, shopping for wigs and chemo caps early, and even wearing her chemo cap prior to losing all hair. “It helped me adjust and prepare for the upcoming changes and painful journey ahead. Food tasted different, dreams intensified. I had to have a plan to keep moving, find spaces where I could sleep comfortably, purchase readymade snacks, explore ways to make my home more accessible to help in case I was not mobile for a while.”
Having cancer in a rural community is difficult. Having family that don’t live near can be lonely. Rural health care and resources for cancer are different than the cities. Ishkode shared that creating a network of support is vital in the cancer journey. “Isolation is always hard; in this journey, it is much worse.” In addition to family and friends, she suggested trying to get involved in a support group, which can be cultural, medical, ceremonial. She encourages those on this journey to not be afraid of asking for help: “it will become your best tool.” Bring someone with to medical appointments, with a notepad, write down all the questions you have, keep a journal. Find a trusted person to check on you. Another stressor can be the varied opinions on seeking western, traditional, and/or a variety of treatments. “I have learned to have faith in whatever path I choose.”
Ishkode describes this as a journey outside of her control. Realizing her humanness, allowing tears and joys, being intentionally positive even when times were and are tough, and trying to make room for laughter, has helped. “I can’t make this go away, but I can and do try to live with it, accept and agree to live in this space together, for now. For now, we share the same body, but I will fight, and continue to fight.”