One, two, three, four…I count to myself as I breathe deeply. “Breathing in calmness, breathing out tension,” I tell myself as I fight against the feeling of panic. I steady myself. My anxiety and fear level is a seven and I am mid-traumatic flashback and experiencing what happens when cancer stress triggers memories of past trauma.
Life has been hard. Yes, yes, I know, life has been hard for everyone…but not quite this hard. I am the very definition of survivor. Having not only survived breast cancer at age 39 and worked in the intensive care unit as a front line critical care doctor in the worst pandemic in a century, I have also survived some pretty ugly, life altering traumas that I have not been so open about. In truth I have never said these things out loud let alone blasted it out across the internet.
A Traumatic Childhood
So with a deep breath, here it goes. As a child, from my birth I was the victim of horrific sexual torture by a family member which culminated in a series of brutal rapes around the age of six. Following this a second abuser, a family roommate, physically and psychologically abused and tortured me on a daily basis. Years of escalating abuse led to a series of brutal beatings and ultimately an attempt on my life at the age of 15.
After the final beating and attempted murder, authorities became involved. Under the watchful eye of the authorities, the physical abuse ended but the psychological abuse continued. It wasn’t until the age of 17 when, after my junior year in high school, I moved across the country, got a job, and lived on my own, that I was truly free.
These are not admissions I make lightly. My body shakes as type these words. I know that some of you reading this know who I am and will connect this story with a real person. This is not a part of my history I share lightly or often. But I think it is important to share it now.
These childhood traumas were something I left far in my past. With many years of healing, I became whole. I broke the cycle. I took care of my body with exercise and a healthy diet. I got A’s and B’s in school. I put myself through college on a full merit-based scholarship. I excelled in medical school and have had an extremely successful career as a physician. I have healthy friendships and a healthy, fulfilling marriage.
When I was diagnosed with cancer, it had been years since the abuse had crossed my mind. In fact, I had almost completely forgotten the sexual abuse entirely. Sure, there were memories here and there, like polaroid snapshots, but they didn’t bother me. They didn’t cause me pain or trigger any emotions. They were just a part of my ancient history…until they weren’t.
A Friend Makes A Difficult Call
About eleven months after my diagnosis of breast cancer and while still making my way through the grieving process, I got a call from a friend. She said she needed to speak to me about something important…and then she told me she was raped by her brother as a child and needed to tell someone. She then poured her heart out.
I listened quietly until her story was finished. I thanked her for trusting me. We talked for hours. She told me I was the only person who ever believed her and admitted she had been terrified to say the words out loud. Just as she was then, so I am now. This was not the first time in my life a friend had opened up about past traumas, but it was the first time that it affected me personally and profoundly.
When Cancer Stress Triggers Memories of Past Trauma
Within days of that call, decades of hard work and acceptance began to crumble. Suddenly I was no longer the 40-year-old cancer survivor making progress towards acceptance, I was right back there, a powerless and terrified six-year-old struggling against blankets…a fifteen-year-old with vicious hands around my throat.
Memories flooded back in torrents as did old fears, anxieties, guilt, and deep shame. Since that time, I have had restless sleep, nightmares, headaches, and frequent nausea…all symptoms I commonly experienced when I was younger and processing those traumas initially.
Sometimes I get flashbacks and intrusive memories of the physical, psychological, and sexual abuse. Sometimes I find myself drawing pictures of these memories as an attempt to exorcise them out of my brain and back to hell where they belong. I struggle with feelings of worthlessness and recurrent loops of the “I am bad” message I was force fed in my younger years. This way of thinking is certainly not conducive to cancer recovery and healthy progress.
No One Tells You This Can Happen
This reopening of old wounds was completely unexpected. Not coincidentally, this was also around the time I moved into the anger phase of my cancer grief so I began to process two sets of trauma in parallel, each in a different phase of healing. Some days I faced my cancer feelings, some days I faced my old traumas. This has been difficult to say the least and there is NO ONE who tells you the reopening of old wounds might be part of your cancer journey.
Information on how a diagnosis of cancer and cancer grieving can affect old trauma simply isn’t out there. That is why I feel now is the time to share my own painful history. Survivors of past traumas need to know that this can and does happen. I certainly wish someone had told me…why didn’t someone tell me?
I wish in my final survivorship meeting the team had warned me, but unfortunately we doctors are mechanics and the lion share of healing is done after your last visit to the cancer center. Sadly, it just wasn’t their job to do so. I was given information on nutrition and exercise, but no information on post-cancer mental health, well-being, or the process of emotional healing. I was on my own to figure it out. And it has not been an easy process.
Hope For The Future
But it’s not all bad. I have made tremendous progress in my emotional healing from both cancer and my reopened wounds. I have revisited informational books and refreshed myself on healthy coping. I am staying active with walking, jogging, and yoga. I am journaling regularly. I am reconnecting with valued friends. When upsetting memories intrude, I take a moment, take some deep breaths, and visualize a calming stream or beach waves. I remind myself these are simply memories and I am no longer in danger.
And then, as it passes, I am so grateful for the life I now have, my safe home, and my healthy relationships. I am so proud of how far I’ve come.
I am so much stronger now than I have ever been before and know that in time these hurts will be part of my past and not rule my present. And most importantly, having experienced this, I can better support other survivors of trauma. I can better inform my own patients of what they may experience in their cancer journeys, making sure they are not caught off guard but unexpected feelings. I can also be a more empathetic friend and better partner.
So there you go universe, be kind, this was not an easy post to write, but if it helps just one person, it was worth it.
