My life will not be defined by Rupert but by how I react to his presence.

Since the initial confirmation that Rupert had taken up permanent residency in my body, I’ve spent more hours than I care to remember Googling ways to better cope with his presence.

Some of the better advice I’ve came across on adapting to Living with Rupert, appears in a Paper on the Stanford Centre for Interactive Medicine website. Titled “Ten Steps toward Emotional Well-Being”.

The Article lists 10 coping strategies. Most I’ve included into my daily routine and I hope sharing them here might be of benefit to someone.

1. Facing the Reality of Your Illness

Since my first elevated PSA Blood Test back in May, I’ve been fully aware of the seriousness of my illness. Had I been under any illusions about what my future likely would involve, the treating Specialists would have set me straight. For me, their forthrightness was welcome and has helped me face the future comfortable with where life is taking me.

2. Maintaining Hope and Optimism

I’m not sure I’ve mastered this one. In accepting the reality of my illness feeling optimistic about the future is a touch difficult. Extensive studies of patients with Stage 4 Prostate Cancer indicate that 28% of us will see out 12 months after diagnosis. Having made a living on the punt for over 40 years, I have a pretty good understanding of odds and a 28%, twelve month survival rate, clearly means the odds are against me. I’ll continue to listen to the Specialists and access any treatments they suggest but the train of maintaining hope and being optimistic has already left the station.

3. Proportion and Balance

The first real indication that I was in serious trouble came via a phone call from my GP after my second elevated PSA Blood Test. I was actually driving to Melbourne for an Edwards Family Christmas In July. With Covid restrictions and living interstate, this was the first time we had got together as a Family since the death of my mother a number of years ago. It was a wonderful day and I’m so thankful that everyone made the effort to be there. The GP told me he’d requested an urgent appointment with the Urology Department at Canberra Hospital and the sinking feeling in my stomach after that call subsequently changed to one of acceptance of my situation. The Paper states “it is best if your positive and negative emotions balanced each other out such that you would be neither over reacting nor under-reacting to the medical realities facing you”. I think I have the balance about right.

4. Expressing Your Emotions

The World would be a far better place if we were all better at expressing our emotions irrespective of whether we have a terminal illness or are perfectly healthy. The maxim “big boys don’t cry” really impacts on our ability to express our emotions. I can vividly remember breaking down in tears when we lost an Under 14 Baseball GF to Bendigo East back in the day and the words “stop crying” still ring in my ears. The only time I’ve shed any tears over Rupert was when I had to tell my mate John Pate of my prognosis. I can’t explain why telling him was harder than it was telling my family or other close friends, but it was. The lack of tears when telling others that I loved had nothing to do with being embarrassed about crying. I’ve cried during movies, when losing sports contests, when winning sports contests, I balled my eyes out at the birth of my 2 children and 3 grandchildren and I’ve even cried at the funerals of strangers. Expressing my emotions has never been a problem for me and it shouldn’t be for you. Almost certainly I will shed plenty of tears as my situation evolves but it won’t be any sign of weakness – simply an indication that I understand how my illness is impacting on others.

5. Reaching Out for Support

I’m not sure how good I am at doing this. I do know that sharing my thoughts and experiences with you on this Blog has been extremely therapeutic and is my way of reaching out for support from people I care about. Just knowing that people think enough of me and my situation, to read my posts is the best emotional support I can get, so thank you for being there.

6. Adopting a Participatory Stance

This one I’ve mastered. Every step of the way, I’ve asked questions of my Medical Team and when I didn’t understand what they were saying, I asked for clarification. I’ve used Google extensively, not looking for faith healers or untested cures, but for explainers about what is happening to my body now and what is likely to happen in the future. I’m sure actively participating in the process and keeping myself fully informed has kept my emotional stress to a minimum.

7. Finding a Positive Meaning

The message here seems to be that I will benefit from taking stock of who I am and how I’ve been living. Since diagnosis I’ve attempted to reach out to people from my past that I’ve lost touch with over the years. Some have responded and some haven’t and I acknowledge that I haven’t been great in maintaining relationships with one time close friends. I regret that and it’s something I’m attempting to address. Rupert’s diagnosis has been a wake up call and I’ll be doing my best to ensure that I give positive meaning to the rest of my life. If I can do that, I know it will be me who benefits and cancer will have been the impetus for positive change even in the twilight of my life.

8. Spirituality, Faith, and Prayer

I’ve never been a person of faith and I can’t imagine I’ll somehow change my views in the coming months. The idea that there is an omnipresent God that decided to allow disease, wars, poverty, drought, etc to exist but still somehow decided to grant believers eternal life I find a ridiculous proposition. I respect other people’s faith but it’s not for me. I’ve tried to live my life treating others as I’d like them to treat me. In saying that, I have been trying to incorporate meditation into my life most days. Mindfulness was not something I’d ever thought about before diagnosis but I now try to employ a session every day. That’s as close as I’ll get to prayer but if you are a person of faith, I won’t be angry if you say a little prayer for me. It can’t hurt.

9. Maintaining Self-Esteem

This is a difficult one. I’ve never been particularly vain and that hasn’t changed with my diagnosis. I did pay for a haircut for the first time in years last month so maybe that’s my way of maintaining self-esteem. I don’t and won’t let cancer define who I am. What’s happening inside me isn’t who I am. I’m the same person now as I was last year and the year before that. I’m really struggling to maintain an exercise program but I’m not sure if that is due to Rupert or the lasting impacts of Covid. I can’t sleep through the night and I can’t stay awake during the day. The Hormone Therapy will clearly impact upon my self-esteem going forward but I’ll deal with it as best as I can.

10. Coming to Terms with Mortality

This is one area I have no problem with. I’ve always believed we are here for a good time and not for a long time. None of us are promised tomorrow and when my time is up I won’t be thinking about things I didn’t do but about the wonderful things I have done. Plenty of you have been a vital part of the good times in my life and I thank you for that. I’m comfortable with my own mortality and wouldn’t change a thing.

I guess I haven’t provided too many laughs with today’s Blog but I’ll attempt to do better when next I write. I have managed to get my appointment with the Urologist brought forward by a month and I see him again on Monday, hopefully to commence Hormone Therapy, so maybe that news might just bring a smile to your face.🙂