By Alice-May Purkiss
who was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 26
Connection is crucial. The difference between now and when I had cancer is that everyone is in the same (or similar) boats. Many of us are scared, many of us are lonely. Many of us feel helpless. When I was knee deep in chemo, bald and exhausted, I only knew a handful of other people who were in the same boat. The connections we have or can forge with people now are the sort of things that will change lives. I know what it is to feel alone and frightened. But this time, we aren’t alone - as long as we keep thinking about each other.
Your mind can play a lot of tricks on you. For the cancer community who have found ourselves on this stage before, we’ve learned how to manage those tricks. We’ve created an arsenal of tools to help survival. These vary from laughter to meditation to having a routine, breathing deeply, letting go of what you can’t control and letting yourself feel whatever you need to, whenever you need to feel it. I always say there’s no right or wrong way to do cancer treatment or life after cancer treatment. There’s no right or wrong way to exist in these unprecedented times. Apart from not hoarding toilet roll and tins of beans.
The person who seems like they have it all together is the person everyone forgets to check on. Check in on your strong friend.
Nurses, doctors, surgeons, hospital staff, counsellors, porters and NHS managers are superheroes. I learned this when I was sick. Lots of people suspected this might be the case but haven’t seen living proof. We are seeing living proof now. Check in on the medics you know. Send them memes and gifs and stuff to help them forget about the situation they’re in for a few seconds. And don’t forget about the others on the front line - supermarket staff, pharmacists, carers. Superheroes walk among us. We must care for them while they care for us.
There’s a lot of talk about appreciating everything more when this invisible storm has passed. And yes, maybe we will appreciate going to the cinema and eating dinner in our favourite restaurants and that will feel magical. But that doesn’t mean real life will stop. It doesn’t mean that we won’t get frustrated when our Indian takeaway takes two hours to arrive. It doesn’t mean that we will magically stop sweating the “small stuff”. Because those things are what make us humans. Flawed and imperfect. But there will be moments in time that stop us in our tracks for a second or a moment or a wedge of time and make us say “oh. Remember when we couldn’t do that. Those were strange times” and then go on with our business.
About Alice-May Purkiss
Alice-May Purkiss is a writer and marketing nerd based in London. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2015 when she was 26. Hearing the words "you have cancer" changed her life immeasurably, but not necessarily for the worst. Her first book, Life, Lemons and Melons was released in 2019 and explores the relationship between cancer and mental health. It's funnier than it sounds. She spends most of her time swimming in cold water, talking about boobs, reading, writing and trying to make sense of the wild, wonderful and complicated world we live in.
