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Truer words have never been spoken. I love this quote because it acknowledges the things you potentially can’t change, while redirecting you toward the things that you can.
Let’s talk about trauma. What the heck is trauma anyway? Trauma is defined as an emotional response to a terrible event. Immediately after the event, shock and denial are the most typical responses. Longer term response are more unpredictable and include mood lability, flashbacks, strained relationships and even physical symptoms like gi distress, headache, nausea and aches and pains. This sounds pretty straightforward but is actually much more subjective than you might think.
What is a terrible event? I am sure that we all have some standard ideas like natural disasters, rape, or war, but I am willing to bet that there are hundreds more, depending on the individual and the situation. It is not as black and white as it seems. Something that was pretty terrible for you may see like no big deal for someone else. To a large extent, it is a matter of perception. It is no one’s right to judge another on their response to trauma because it is impossible to truly be “in their shoes.”
So, what is post traumatic stress disorder? This is a mental health condition that is triggered by a terrifying event that is either experienced or witnessed. Symptoms include everything from nightmares, severe anxiety, flashbacks and uncontrollable ruminating thoughts about the event. It is normal to have temporary responses to trauma, but in individuals with ptsd, these responses don’t improve, often last for months or years and even disrupt daily functioning.
Well, I might as well tell you that I am having some ptsd after finishing chemo. Cancer, despite my positive attitude, still had it’s way with me mentally somewhat. It was, in fact, traumatic on multiple levels. Just like I have discussed before, I knew this was one of the risks after completing cancer treatment, not because anyone told me, but because it seemed logical. I mean, look at what my mind and my body have gone through. Chemo and the cancer itself blessed me with aches, pains, nausea, fevers, severe fatigue, neuropathy, etc and then when it was all over, my liver and kidneys took a hit and took awhile to recover….and then my thyroid died and it almost sent me into a coma….all when I was supposed to be done with all that! Mind you, I went through all of that while being off prozac so there was no mental health/anti anxiety buffer available so it was full on unrestrained feels and fear all day long. I got through it. I mean I am getting through it, but it has left some scars. Every twinge or pinch sends my brain racing with death defying possibilities if I allow it. Because, twinges or pinches meant something was terribly wrong before right? So why wouldn’t it mean that now? Oh yes, that’s right. I just had scans that were clear not even a month ago. I am ok. I saw it on film myself. Still, those rational thoughts aren’t the first ones that come to my mind when those symptoms come up.
Last night I was having a basic fibromyalgia flare, brought on by stress, like I have had a million times before, even before cancer. This time, you would have thought that I was dying. I started panicking. I decided that I wasn’t going to the party I was planning on attending. I put myself to bed and started ruminating on all the terrible possibilities until my amazing daughter pointed out that the symptoms were the same as always and she gently reminded me about the stressful day we had. Listening to her broke though my fear bubble just enough that I was able to get myself together and actually go to the party with my husband. We had a great time by the way. Thank goodness for her understanding and her voice of reason when I was being somewhat irrational. But, that’s what post traumatic stress is. It’s irrational. You sometimes cannot see your way out of it without some help.
As the quote above states, the kind of trauma that causes ptsd causes change that you don’t choose. I didn’t chose to get cancer and have organs shut down and be sick for months and months. That was a trauma and that is still affecting me. But, I can choose to continue to heal and get help for my symptoms rather than settling into them and just accepting them as if this is how the rest of my life is going to go regardless of my say so. I do have a choice! I am getting therapy. I am learning ( or trying to learn) new coping mechanisms. I am listening to my family. I am realizing that I do not have to turn in my Wonder Woman status just because I am dealing with this. I am embracing the fact that this is a battle that I do not have to fight all by myself and that is ok.
Speaking of not battling alone, I wanted to leave you with a screening guideline for PTSD from HelpGuide
Do you think you could have PTSD? Here are some screening questions. If you answer yes to three or more of these, you may also have PTSD and should seek help and therapy from a qualified mental health professional.
If you answered yes to three or more of these questions, you can get help. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy can be very helpful. When you look for a therapist, make sure to look for someone that specializes in trauma and PTSD. There are also a multitude of PTSD support groups in Michigan, which is where I live. Here is some contact information.
These are just a few resources. My point is, if you think you are suffering from PTSD, don’t go through it alone. There is help out there. You may not have chosen the trauma that was inflicted on you, but you can chose not to be it’s perpetual prisoner.
Dr. Katz



So, this one Saturday pre chemo I woke up feeling like a champ! I had slept a full ten hours…..without interruption! Holy Crap! I didn’t even feel like I had cancer! I had energy! I wanted to go kick some ass somewhere! I did a little dance. I told everybody in the house that I was ready to go. I sat down to breakfast 35 minutes later, smiling ear to ear. And then, without warning, it all started melting away. I felt the slow spread of heat and fatigue wash over me. I started getting short of breath and achy. I couldn’t speak in full sentences without taking a breath. Within a few minutes, my cancer symptoms had swept back in, enveloping me in that blanket of sick that I had just swore I had shucked off for the day. Here I was again, the lymphoma patient, set up for yet another day on the couch. Awe man! One of the hardest parts too is watching my husband’s temporarily hopeful facial expression slowly fade into a sad little empathetic smile that I have come to know so frequently. This is, my friends, just the way it is. There is a level of unpredictability about this whole thing that is never easy to reconcile, much less accept. Welp, I guess it’s time to dig out the remote again and settle in for some more Netflix. It is what it is. That’s fine. I’ll rest for now, plotting what amazing things I could do in that next 35 minutes! This is just one of the smaller battles Cancer. You can have this one. I’m saving myself for the real one. Cue mic drop.
Dr. Katz