My well-being journey

Eighteen years ago, I was diagnosed with cancer – a bone cancer in my left thigh, right in the middle of my femur. However, this simply stated fact does not capture my experience.

The first doctor that I consulted was well-meaning, but lacking in judgement, as I later realized. He operated on me without due diligence, as a result of which my cancer spread and metastasized over the next few years.

Three months later after my first botched up surgery, they removed my femur and replaced it with a titanium femur. They replaced my hip and my knee. It took me 10 months in bed to recover somewhat and get back some feeling and movement in the operated leg. I had to learn to walk again.

My legs hold me up. However, my movement is quite limited. I was left with a permanent disability. I walk with a crutch. I cannot sit on the floor, or bend my knee.

Subsequently in the next five years I underwent multiple surgeries of my primary site and of my lungs as my cancer metastasized.

During those times, every time the biopsy report came back, I intensified my planning and plotting for contingencies. I tried to accept the fact that I may not be there for my family in the future. When life is good and on even keel, we tend to believe that we are special and that life as we know it will go on forever!

As I struggled to accept that I may not be there for my family, I devised ways of how I was going to be there for them even from the “other world”. I planned to make recordings on tapes and write them letters for every eventuality and every milestone event.

I could not imagine that they could survive without me. How we glorify ourselves and think we are indispensable! How we cling to life!

But today I stand almost 20 years later, well, happy, contented and cancer free. I defeated the monster. I am so very aware of the grace in my life.

I cannot pretend that it was an easy path. I cannot pretend that I did not feel fear, and frustration and even anger. If I had to walk that path again, I am not sure I could. But the love and care of my friends and family combined with the will to keep going for the people that I loved and needed me gave me strength.

I survived by powering through with discipline and sheer determination. I was lucky, yes. However, looking back, I now realize I could have navigated that journey better. I share here a few of the lessons learnt on the path.

Self-compassion

During those years, I didn’t allow myself to grieve. I believed being strong and resilient meant suppressing my emotions, so I wouldn’t burden others who loved me; who suffered to see me – weak, in pain and confined to a bed; completely dependent on others.

I did not allow myself to even acknowledge all that I had lost! My health, my self-image as a strong, independent woman, my freedom, my work, and most of all the joy of movement! I have long made my peace with it.

However, as a one-time trained classical dancer, when I hear music sometimes, even now, I feel a deep sadness and frustration. My body hears the music. It wants to move to respond to it. However, it cannot fully express. I still move after a fashion. But it’s not the same thing that I see in my head and feel in my heart.

I took pride in being labelled ‘strong’ and ‘an inspiration’. But I see now that I should have allowed myself to grieve. Suppressed emotions don’t disappear. They linger and resurface.

Sometimes, an unexpected trigger makes me weep uncontrollably. These are perhaps an outpouring of those unprocessed feelings.

I now understand that I needed to be more self-compassionate. Self-compassion fuels resilience and well-being. Though I now teach it to others, I still wrestle with practicing it myself. I have learned to honour my emotions, but it remains a work in progress.

Gratitude

This is a lesson that I have learnt well and found so very valuable. It has been my doorway into well-being. As I Iook back at my experience of the five years of battling cancer, I have learnt to notice and acknowledge the grace and the protective hand of the universe in my life. I have learnt to even feel grateful for the cancer. If not for the cancer, I would not have known, felt and realized the love that I have.

I would not have experienced so tangibly the nurture and the nourishment that I received. The love that cocooned me and willed me to get better, to walk again and to build my life back. The doctors who despite their mistakes nurtured me and took care of me. It allowed me to learn some lessons firsthand that have led me directly to the work that I do and find so rewarding and fulfilling.

Noticing and acknowledging the good in my life is a muscle that I have learnt to strengthen. It gives me immense joy and inoculates me against despair and brings joy and peace.

Acceptance

I intuitively accepted what had happened. I did not rail against the universe or the doctor who had messed up my life. I can genuinely say hand on heart that I did not blame him for his error in judgement.

If I had, I would have made it worse for myself. As the Buddhists say, I would have shot myself the second arrow – the self-inflicted pain we create by resisting reality. I accepted and moved on.

This is something that has seen me through many a difficult time. Not resisting, not blaming, just getting on with what ‘is’ and seeing the best that can be done.

Optimism

Optimism was my anchor. I feel grateful that I am by nature an optimistic person. When the doctor outlined my prognosis, a voice inside me said, “He doesn’t know me. I will walk again.”

Perhaps it was stubbornness. However, it helped me move forward. I refused to dwell on ‘what ifs’. This spared me unnecessary anguish and allowed me to rebuild my life.

A transformative turning point

These insights didn’t come all at once. It took time, people and experiences to reshape my perspective. One transformative experience was attending the Cognitively-Based Compassion Training (CBCT) Program and later becoming a certified facilitator.

This program helped me to see with greater clarity. It offered me an alternative way of viewing the world, including myself, that was both realistic and helpful. It made me realize that I had a choice when I could not see one.

It helped me build a consistent meditation practice. It helped me to relate to myself and others with greater compassion. Becoming a certified facilitator perforce deepened my practice and my understanding of self compassion, gratitude and resilience. This also enriched both my personal and professional life.

Moving forward

Today, as I reflect on my journey, I am filled with gratitude—not just for surviving but also for the lessons I have learned. It makes me want to reach out to others to help them overcome their challenges.

My work now involves helping others navigate challenges and find hope. I write this to tell anyone facing troubled times: it feels like there is no choice but it’s possible to find one. Life can get better, even when it feels impossible.

This journey has shaped me in profound ways. Though I often stumble, I continue to walk forward—with a crutch, but also with purpose.