To Hope

February 14, 2014
By: Miriam Sultan-Laine

When people think about cancer,

They think of chemotherapy and hospital visits.

They think of pain.

They think of fear.

But I don’t know if they think about the loneliness.

It’s not only the loneliness of being in an isolated hospital ward, of being cooped up inside your bedroom while the world continues to spin outside your window. It’s the devastating feeling that no one fully understands, that no one in your life is traveling this journey with you.

When I was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 14, I was never really alone. I was surrounded by family and friends, by concerned loved ones devoted to my care.

My school arranged for my friends to visit me often, and local respite services did what they could to ensure that I had company and entertainment.

But I never felt as lonely, as isolated, as I did then.

Because I knew that my wonderful friends and family – as well-meaning as they were and as hard as they tried – could never fully understand what I was going through.

In the early years of my illness, I felt this need to always put up a brave front – to show others that at all times I was hopeful, and strong, and a fighter.

I wanted to spare my family and friends worry and sadness, so I bottled up a lot of my anxiety, my questions, and my pain.

But it was exhausting and incredibly, incredibly lonely.

It was only many years later that I learned that loneliness doesn’t need to be a side effect of cancer.

I know that now because of my involvement with Hope and Cope.

For me, and for so many others like me, Hope and Cope has been so much more than a support system or a resource.

For me, Hope and Cope has been a community, a community that helps to heal both my body and my spirit.

I will never forget the first time I attended a Hope and Cope weekend retreat for young adults living with cancer.

The retreat took place in a hotel in Quebec City, located on a large lake surrounded by snow-covered mountains. The grounds were vast and picturesque, and the amenities were spectacular. Being in this setting, among sisters and brothers fighting the same battle, for the same cause, gave me – for the very first time – a safe space to experience, to feel, to share. As I spent time with my fellow cancer warriors – far from hospital wards – I realized that though our stories were different, we spoke the same language. There was no need for facades or brave fronts. With honesty, candor, love and pain, tears and laughter, we shared and we bonded. In the company of compassionate and supportive facilitators, we bared our souls and it was wonderfully healing and cathartic.

Because this was a group tailored for people my age, I felt a strong kinship to everyone around me. Our daily challenges were so similar. We spoke about our fears pertaining to employment possibilities. We laughed about awkward social situations relating to our illness. Men and women shared openly their fears about fertility and their hopes for building a family. As I soaked it in, I realized that I wasn’t alone – I was part of a rich, diverse, inspiring community. My fellow warriors are strong, scared, hilariously funny, and grappling with sadness, and they REALLY understand. They know EXACTLY what I struggle with every day.

Immediately, my loneliness evaporated.

And being a part of this community – embraced by the support of new friends, new family – is the best medicine for any cancer patient or cancer survivor.

I know it gives me the resolve to keep fighting.

Since that retreat, Hope and Cope has been an invaluable part of my life. I lean on so many friends that I’ve met through Hope and Cope. I participate in so many of the programs the organization provides. I strengthen my body and spirit by attending young-adult exercise programs to help cancer patients and survivors exercise in a manner that suits their physical condition.

I can choose from so many available workshops, with topics as diverse as finance management, heart health, complementary therapies, or coping skills.

I can clear my mind and hone my talents by taking a wide range of classes, including jewellery-making and cooking classes, and I can participate in art therapy sessions.

And if I am too tired or too busy to leave my home, I can log on to CancerFightClub. On a rough day, I can rally the support of my fellow cancer warriors; on a better day, I can offer my love to a fellow cancer warrior who is having a tough time.

These programs are enriching, entertaining, and literally lifesaving.