Cancer and Practice

by Rome Doherty

Voices from the Space2Meditate Community

In May of this year, I was told that I have cancer in my tonsil. At that time, I fell down the well of the medical profession, with many doctor and testing appointments, taking notes, and trying to get a feel for what this meant. I felt fine, I just had a lump. My daughter said at the time that it was like being on the line for a roller-coaster, but it was behind a fence, and we couldn’t see how tall or steep it was. 

I believed that I was well prepared mentally and spiritually for whatever was to come. I had a good meditation practice, I had been clean and sober for more than three decades, and I had supportive friends and family. Last winter, while I was on retreat, I spent a lot of time on the First Foundation of Mindfulness. I believed that I had a good understanding that my body was impermanent, unreliable, and not under my control.  I also felt that I was as prepared for death as I was ever going to be. 

The treatment prescribed was daily (Mondays to Fridays) radiation, and weekly chemotherapy for seven weeks. I was treated at Cleveland Clinic’s Cancer Institute, and the people there were extremely warm and caring. The first week or two went well. I was unable to join Space2Meditate because of the radiation schedule, but I managed to sit on my own. Then I started to get ill, an expected consequence of the treatment. I was tired, unfocused, and I lost appetite. My sitting practice fell away quickly, as well as my recovery support group attendance. Treatment didn’t go smoothly. I had several Emergency Department visits and some hospitalizations. I moved in with my daughter and for lack of a better word, was an invalid for the duration of treatment, which ended at the beginning of August. I was ill for several additional weeks. I’m now feeling somewhat better, but I’m still ill and I’m told I have at least several more months of recovery.

So what was the advantage of all those years of practice? Did it help me during this process? I believe it did, even though my “practice” was essentially non-existent while I was so ill. My daughter, who is a rabbi, said something along the lines of “you don’t practice so that you can practice while you are ill, but so that you are prepared to be ill.” I found this to be true. Many times during treatment, I found it useful to be able to simply watch my breath. This attention was especially important during certain medical procedures. For example, radiation was administered while my head was secured to the table with a large plastic mask, which covered my full head and shoulders. I could avoid claustrophobia by simply paying attention to my breath for the duration of the session. Many times, I also was able to call attention to the present moment – nature, dogs on the sofa, cars on the highway… This attention to the present moment prevented morose introspection. 

As poorly as I was thinking during this illness, I never felt that it was ‘unfair’ or wondered  ‘why me?’? At my worst moments, what I felt was a deep desire that it all come to an end. My practice has taught me that ‘life is difficult.’ This is the First Noble Truth, and this was yet another difficulty. I would not go so far as to say that I never complained on occasion, but overall, I felt equanimous about this disease. My recovery background helped a lot in this respect, because I can acknowledge when I’m powerless, even though I may not like it. 

I could also see that my level of compassion was strong, and I attribute this to my time on the cushion in prior years. A cancer treatment facility is full of people in substantial difficulty. Levels of anxiety are high, as each person cannot see what their roller-coaster is going to look like. I tried to be pleasant to those I interacted with. I think this effort was repaid in my own peace of mind. I gave small gifts to the primary treatment team, and generosity, as always, is its own reward.

I have noticed over the last couple of weeks, and while writing this essay, that not only does my body have to recover, but so does my practice. I’m back to sitting with Space2Meditate and have been to some sitting groups near me. My ability to sit quietly during a session has been affected. I’m more easily distracted, and prone to sloth and torpor. So, my practice is going to need more practice for a full recovery.

I won’t know if the cancer has been defeated until November. The docs on my team are sanguine. I have no big moral conclusion, but I am grateful that I had some practice under my belt during this time…