Tracy Lautenbach, MSW, LCSW, OSW, is the social work team leader for radiation oncology at Penn. In this article, she discusses what happens when cancer treatment ends.
The time of diagnosis is often a time of shock or described as feeling you’re having an “out of body experience." During treatment you may feel you will never get through it and are often plugging along through the thick of it. Then comes the end of treatment where one can often feel a sense of overall abandonment.
Cancer treatment may have come to an end however the cancer “experience” has not. It is not over. For many patients this is the time there is a resurgence of fear.
You have recuperated and now the recovery stage begins.
Patients are left to pick up the pieces of their lives.
Being around people who listen and validate your fears and not dismiss your fears is the essence of the support that is needed at this time.
In this recent post on her blog, Chemo in Louboutins, by cancer survivor Susan Schwartz, she writes about what it’s like to complete cancer treatment. And the feelings that come with ending this chapter in her life.
I don’t know why I am finding this last posting so hard to write. It should be easy. I’m done treatment. The End.
Penn proton therapy came and went without chemo or Louboutins, so I feel kind of like a fraud writing about it. Every day I got up super early, threw on black leggings and white sneakers and went to my session. I did walk back from treatment to my parent’s apartment (almost 2 miles)…still that was no excuse for ugly footware. Mr. Louboutin designs sneakers –of which, sadly, I have none. It would have been RadiationInNewBalance.com.
New Year’s is usually thought of as a time to start anew (thus, the NEW in New Year’s) with projects and plans and resolutions. I just want to go back to April 2012 – home from holiday, kissed by the southwest sun of Arizona and the Grand Canyon, ready to go back to work. A time when I was clueless about what was to come.
I return to London this next week to begin the process of “getting back to normal. This involves trying to convince myself that I look like a middle-aged Jean Seberg and the weight I gained will slough off. After 4 weeks, radiation has only left me with a slight sore throat and some “sun” burned skin around my chest.
“All this will be healed soon,” promised my doctors.
Did wearing Louboutins make me feel and look glamorous? Yes, it did. Am I still filled with fear even now that I am going home? Yes and I am certain I will always feel that way.
Still there is one thing I can guarantee – no more dust covered Louboutins waiting for an invitation to be worn.
The SLS Support Team
I could not have gone through this and come out the other side without all of you…the parents, boyfriend, friends, those who read and commented on this blog
The SLS Medical Team
Everyone at HUP (Hospital of U of Penn), especially the chemo nurses, proton 4 ladies, and the doctors who are trying to cure me and their teams.
Steve Jobs and Skype
Without Facetime, Skype and every other software and/or device that let me keep one foot in the UK – allowing me to speak to my friends and watch Strictly Come Dancing at the same time!
Your Prayers, Hopes and Well-Wishes
These I pass along to the people I met at the Proton Center…who are still going through treatment.
The time of diagnosis is often a time of shock or described as feeling you’re having an “out of body experience." During treatment you may feel you will never get through it and are often plugging along through the thick of it. Then comes the end of treatment where one can often feel a sense of overall abandonment.
Cancer treatment may have come to an end however the cancer “experience” has not. It is not over. For many patients this is the time there is a resurgence of fear.
You have recuperated and now the recovery stage begins.
Patients are left to pick up the pieces of their lives.
Being around people who listen and validate your fears and not dismiss your fears is the essence of the support that is needed at this time.
In this recent post on her blog, Chemo in Louboutins, by cancer survivor Susan Schwartz, she writes about what it’s like to complete cancer treatment. And the feelings that come with ending this chapter in her life.
No Excuses Now
Susan SchwartzI don’t know why I am finding this last posting so hard to write. It should be easy. I’m done treatment. The End.
Penn proton therapy came and went without chemo or Louboutins, so I feel kind of like a fraud writing about it. Every day I got up super early, threw on black leggings and white sneakers and went to my session. I did walk back from treatment to my parent’s apartment (almost 2 miles)…still that was no excuse for ugly footware. Mr. Louboutin designs sneakers –of which, sadly, I have none. It would have been RadiationInNewBalance.com.
New Year’s is usually thought of as a time to start anew (thus, the NEW in New Year’s) with projects and plans and resolutions. I just want to go back to April 2012 – home from holiday, kissed by the southwest sun of Arizona and the Grand Canyon, ready to go back to work. A time when I was clueless about what was to come.
I return to London this next week to begin the process of “getting back to normal. This involves trying to convince myself that I look like a middle-aged Jean Seberg and the weight I gained will slough off. After 4 weeks, radiation has only left me with a slight sore throat and some “sun” burned skin around my chest.
“All this will be healed soon,” promised my doctors.
Did wearing Louboutins make me feel and look glamorous? Yes, it did. Am I still filled with fear even now that I am going home? Yes and I am certain I will always feel that way.
Still there is one thing I can guarantee – no more dust covered Louboutins waiting for an invitation to be worn.
The Best of the Goods:
There are some people and things that deserve special recognition:The SLS Support Team
I could not have gone through this and come out the other side without all of you…the parents, boyfriend, friends, those who read and commented on this blog
The SLS Medical Team
Everyone at HUP (Hospital of U of Penn), especially the chemo nurses, proton 4 ladies, and the doctors who are trying to cure me and their teams.
Steve Jobs and Skype
Without Facetime, Skype and every other software and/or device that let me keep one foot in the UK – allowing me to speak to my friends and watch Strictly Come Dancing at the same time!
Your Prayers, Hopes and Well-Wishes
These I pass along to the people I met at the Proton Center…who are still going through treatment.
