Finding Oxygen
Breathe deeply, take care of you and heed the advice of those who have been there.

By Sarah Weddington

Cancer reminds me of the newest fire-fighting chemical, Halotron^®, which works by sucking all the oxygen out of an area. While Halotron works better when compared to water or foam for putting out a fire and not damaging an airplane engine or a bank of computers, losing oxygen is not good when applied to you or me.

The diagnosis of breast cancer in 2001 almost took my breath away. My younger sister had died of breast cancer several years earlier. A friend in my breast cancer support group described her reaction to diagnosis this way: Immediately, in her mind, a storm hit, lightning struck, thunder rolled. She could see the doctor’s lips moving, but she couldn’t comprehend the words. When she “came to,” the doctor was saying, “Now do you have any questions?”

I felt the same way. It’s why I think it’s so important to take a family member or friend with you for a doctor visit when there’s even a question that cancer might be involved.

The Oxygen Givers

Since the diagnosis, I’ve been thinking about oxygen. I am often on airplanes. In fact, when someone asks, “Where do you live?” my general response is “American” or “Delta.”

Like so many others, I get settled in my seat and “tune out.” But on one particular day I paid attention to the words of the flight attendant as she was urging me to be sure that my seat belt was fastened low and tight, that my luggage was in the overhead compartment or securely placed under the seat in front of me and that my tray table was in the upright and locked position.
Then I heard: In the unlikely event of an emergency, an oxygen mask will fall down. If you are traveling with young children, first put on your own oxygen mask and then put a mask on others.

This day, my receptors latched on to those final words. As the flight and my musing continued, I found myself thinking about oxygen and realized that the people I like best are oxygen givers. They are trying to help others, including children, parents, students, co-workers and employees, family members and community members. In short, they are a source of support and encouragement. I think of the medical personnel and friends who have shared my journey through cancer as oxygen givers.

Understanding Oxygen

Then another phrase kept echoing. “First, put on your own oxygen mask . . . .”
Folks can go for days without food or water but only a few minutes without oxygen. If we run out of oxygen, we are unable to help ourselves or others.

“Oxygen” carries a concept for me of energy and what gives us the internal ability to meet challenges. Indeed, upon looking up the definition of oxygen, I found: “a colorless, odorless, tasteless gas, the very substance which we draw in steadily, expanding our lungs, as it travels throughout our bloodstream, a messenger of life, allowing our bodies to function and energize.”

The movie Into Thin Air about climbing Mt. Everest described how climbers have to allow their bodies to acclimate to higher altitudes and dramatically decreased oxygen levels.

A plane where the fuel mix is extra rich in oxygen is called “turbo-charged.”
On average, it takes 100 percent power for a plane to take off or change altitudes. It takes 60 percent to maintain an established pattern of flight.

One research source said: “One of the differences between an athlete’s body and that of a person who receives very little exercise is the amount of oxygen that pulsates through the blood in their bodies. Oxygen is vital for the life and energy of cells, and without it cells begin to become unhealthy and weak.”
I wonder how much oxygen was pulsating through cancer survivor Lance Armstrong’s cells when he won his fifth Tour de France.

Wine cannot age without oxygen. A person gets “the bends” in diving when there is too little oxygen in the bloodstream. Asthma medication expands the lungs to allow the intake of more oxygen.

Oxygen and Cancer

“In the unlikely event of an emergency, an oxygen mask will fall down.”
Cancer is an emergency, but an oxygen mask will not automatically appear. We must find our own sources of oxygen and energy. While going through treatment, I wanted to be turbo-charged, so I began seeking sources of oxygen/energy.

Where can we find the oxygen we need to live and thrive, whatever difficulties we are going through?

What most of us have in common is that we are tired. Life is difficult and complicated. Every time we learn one set of skills, the world changes and we need to learn another set. In fact, Bob Hope is reputed once to have said to a group of graduating college seniors, “The world is out there waiting for you. Don’t go!” Yet go we must.

Laughter, Learning, Leadership

Laughter
I now believe that oxygen/energy are found in laughter and good times, in learning and in leadership.

Several years ago a friend gave me a plaque that read, “He (and I’ve written in “she”) who laughs, lasts.” And last we must. Laughter helps.

Liz Carpenter, that effervescent 83-year-old who was Lady Bird Johnson’s press secretary, commented after her second round of breast cancer: “I’ve always heard a tit for a tat. I’ve given up a tit. Now what is a tat and when do I get one?”

Friends worried when they heard about my cancer diagnosis. They felt better when they learned I had just purchased six pairs of earrings. Since I’m not a big shopper, they figured I had faith that I had a future. Hearing me laugh throughout treatment and since convinced them I had the spirit to survive.

Learning
Oxygen/energy comes from laughter and learning. Learning comes in many forms and activities. Some have been cancer-related. I’ve been fortunate enough to attend the Miraval retreat put on each December by US Oncology for cancer patients and caregivers (see CURE, Summer 2003).

I’ve learned strategies for taking care of myself and for being a cancer activist. I found The Breast Book by Susan Love, MD to be one of the most useful places for looking up the answers for all sorts of questions about breast cancer and related surgery and treatment. I also learned what my cancer looked like.

Pathologist Peggy Listrom made pictures of the slides of my cancer so I could put one on my website (www.weddingtoncenter.com) and make a dartboard of another copy. When I was first diagnosed, I thought of the cancer as Darth Vader—it was covered, its actual shape was hidden and I didn’t know how dangerous it was. The pictures helped “unmask” the cancer for me. I could see what I was up against. Learning happens every time I travel. I love learning customs and information about various places and people. For example, just before my cancer diagnosis I was in Luang Prabang, Laos, a United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization-designated world cultural heritage site.

I had risen early to take a photo of monks in their saffron robes in lines to seek rice for their begging bowls. Later in the background of the photo I discovered The Internet Café. It’s funny how the Internet is making our world smaller each day through expanded communication.

Leadership
Leadership helps us not just to be “acted upon” but to react by helping others. My definition of leadership is the ability and willingness to leave one’s thumbprint—to see what needs to be changed and to strive to do that. The Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation and other efforts are well known to each of us. They exist because an individual decided something needed to change, engaged others in the effort and persisted toward a goal. The combined effect of their efforts is enormous. Within each community are countless opportunities to lead.

I’ll soon be on another plane and hear those same words, “In the unlikely event of an emergency, an oxygen mask will fall down. . . . First, put your own oxygen mask on . . . .” What I’ve learned is that for life and cancer the words should be rewritten as follows: “In the likely event of an emergency, an oxygen mask will not fall down. You must find your own oxygen through laughter, learning and leadership.”