Cancer has taught me to be stoic when necessary, needy when appropriate and mindful at all times that the physical body is both fragile and resilient.
BY Mike Verano
PUBLISHED March 21, 2018
Mike Verano is a licensed professional counselor, licensed marriage and family therapist and thymic cancer survivor with over 30 years experience in the mental health field. Mike has had articles published in national and international magazines and is the author of The Zen of Cancer: A Mindful Journey From Illness to Wellness. In addition, he maintains the blog, Confessions of a Pacifist in the War on Cancer. He and his wife, Kathy, live in Lanexa, Virginia.
As a cancer survivor, I find that I now approach most health-related problems with the sigh of relief. “At least it’s not cancer.” To date, 2018, has provided multiple opportunities for this breath work. My last PET scan revealed a kidney stone that painfully passed in January and gallstones which are resulting in the removal of my gallbladder next week. Additionally, pain in my right shoulder, eerily reminiscent of the pain in my left shoulder that led to my cancer being discovered in 2009, turned out to be arthritis.
The fact that even eight years removed from the fateful day, the arrival of these new medical challenges automatically triggers a response deep in my brain speaks to the power of this diagnosis and how one’s life is never the same after receiving it. Waiting on the results of a CT scan to check for kidney stones, and preparing for gallbladder surgery brings an eerie déjà vu that makes my toes go numb—just like the first time I was told my cancer was stage 4.
The fact that even eight years removed from the fateful day, the arrival of these new medical challenges automatically triggers a response deep in my brain speaks to the power of this diagnosis and how one’s life is never the same after receiving it. Waiting on the results of a CT scan to check for kidney stones, and preparing for gallbladder surgery brings an eerie déjà vu that makes my toes go numb—just like the first time I was told my cancer was stage 4.
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