Comfort Zones Are Overrated

It’s all my husband’s fault. Because of his cancer diagnosis, I’ve had to take up hiking tall mountains, eating more nutritiously and stepping outside my comfort zone.

AN OPINION, NOT A PREDICTION

My husband, Gary, was diagnosed with prostate cancer at a relatively young age. No worries. You remove the prostate, you’re cured. While Gary was in surgery, the nearby lymph nodes were tested only to learn that the cancer had already spread. He has been on hormone therapy treatment ever since. Not a cure; it holds the cancer cells in check for a while.

Four years back, Gary asked his doctor how much time he had left. “If you put a gun to my head,” the doctor answered reluctantly, “given your age and the shape you’re in, I’d say five years.” Gary didn’t want this information so he could plan a funeral; he wanted a goal that he could exceed. He plans to walk back into his doctor’s office after the five-year mark and say, “I’m still here.”

In her book, Kitchen Table Wisdom, Dr. Rachel Remen tells about a medical student in the midwest who was writing a paper on cancer remission. The student interviewed a farmer who had done exceptionally well despite a dire prognosis. Apparently, the farmer had taken the same attitude toward his doctor’s prognosis that he had taken toward the government experts who analyzed his soil. He respected them as educated men and listened carefully as they showed him the findings of their tests and informed him that corn would not grow in his field. “A lot of the time the corn grows anyway,” he told the med student.

“A diagnosis is an opinion and not a prediction,” writes Dr. Remen. “The diagnosis is cancer. What that will mean remains to be seen.”

RECRUITING OUR TEAM

Right off the bat, Gary and I determined we were going to be proactive in facing down this disease. We knew nothing about cancer; we had no close family members or friends with this disease. “What can we do?” we asked the medical professionals.

“At this point,” we were told, “asking that question is like closing the barn door after the horse has gotten out.”

So we did our own research and came up with the idea to recruit a cancer team. Among our team members are the practical:

Nutrition: We eat more fruits, veggies, legumes and seafood; we’ve switched to whole grains and have eliminated unhealthy fats and sugars. That simple. I’ve love our new way of eating!

Physical activity: As for exercise, we weren’t sedentary, but we certainly weren’t exercising regularly. Gary read somewhere that walking is good for prostate cancer, so he started walking two miles every morning before work. I don’t do 5:30 a.m., but on weekends, we hike and snowshoe all over the beautiful Cascade Mountains near our home.

Stress management: Frequenting a spa isn’t exactly in our budget, but we have several practical and inexpensive ways that help us manage the stress in our lives. Getting outdoors – hiking, canoeing, snowshoeing – is a great stress buster. And we date each other more, but with a couple of new rules:

• No talking about cancer or finances or work-related stress; and
•  We have to save up something interesting to tell each other. (I can never save up for date night. The minute something interesting happens, Gary hears about it.)
• We also intentionally practice living in the present, being grateful for all the good that is going on in our lives – now, today.
• Attitude: Gary maintains that you have to look for the positive in everything. For instance, he thinks he’s gotten better looking since his diagnosis. “Whenever I visit family and friends,” he explains, “the first thing they say is, ‘Boy, you sure look good.’ Before I had cancer, no one ever said that to me.”

FINDING PURPOSE, GIVING BACK

It takes us some time to process the statement: “You have cancer … and oh, by the way, there is no proven cure.” After working through self-pity, and talking down fear and worst-case scenarios, we began looking for purpose.

My computer-geek husband designed a Web site that features over 40 trails in our area with photos and trail information. The intent is to encourage people to get outdoors and increase their physical activity. And we created a nutritional site with information in layman’s terms and more than 90 recipes.

We then drafted a tag-team presentation highlighting what we’re doing to live well with a metastatic disease. We began speaking at cancer centers and medical conferences; to rotary, church and business groups; and to groups of high school, college and nursing students. We were approved as a 501(c)(3) non-profit, and grant funding and donations have provided for us to take our message across the U.S.

Gary researched and found stories of survivors and caregivers from across the country who are living purposefully and giving back. I called to set up interviews and our book of inspiring stories was published. The intent is to encourage others to look for purpose because we happen to think that’s part of living well.

IF GIVEN A CHOICE

Before cancer, Gary and I had never climbed a mountain. We’d never considered establishing a non-profit. I am not a professional writer, nor are we Web designers by trade. Ironically, I’m married to a man who would pay to not have to stand up in front of people and speak.

We know what it’s like to struggle back up through despondency, to develop a strategy and draft a business plan, begin researching for grant funding, submit grants and book ideas, and try not to count the rejection slips as they pile up. We find the one or two things we can do, which usually open the door for another one or two things.

Our passion to inspire courage compels us to step outside our comfort zone. It’s much more comfortable staying close to home, propping our feet up on the coffee table and watching other people lead extraordinary lives. But we choose to pursue purpose because we are motivated to leave a beautiful and full-of-service story as a legacy for our children.

If given a choice, we’d go through all the challenges, tears and hard conversations again. Because they have changed us. And frankly, I like these people better.