It's OK Not to Have Full Holiday Spirit During Cancer

Mary Sansone is a two-time survivor of acute myeloid leukemia. Catch up on all of Mary's blogs here!

Dear patients with cancer and caregivers,

You will hear a lot about gratitude this holiday season. You will be encouraged to have high spirits and to count your blessings.

I’m going to start right off the bat with this message: It is OK not to feel constant gratitude. You may be physically sick, fearful, angry, confused or exhausted. You may feel sad that you are not home if hospitalized. Or feel like you are a burden to those around you if you are home. You may feel helpless if you are a caregiver.

During the holiday season, there are boundless efforts by family and friends, society, retailers and even corporations and governments to make us feel bright and merry. Even the hospital may have a Thanksgiving meal and carolers during Christmas.

It is OK not to always be joyful.

When I had acute myeloid leukemia (AML), I thought of something I was genuinely grateful for, but I wouldn’t necessarily feel the lift and relief of gratitude. My sick body and daunting future made it difficult to experience the lightness of being.

Yet, I did not want to get stuck in misery. I made a private effort to experience a “pop of joy” during dreary days. This quest played an important role in my recovery.

A little backstory:

I was in an alcohol treatment center during Thanksgiving 2019 and in a gross dingy halfway house during Christmas. At that time, I was grateful to be clean and sober again after breaking 25 years of sobriety earlier that year. I was not loving my living situation, but my spirits were up after recovering from a debilitating depression exacerbated by my alcohol relapse.

The next month, (January 2020) while still in the halfway house, I learned that my AML had come back and that I would need a bone marrow transplant. “You have got to be kidding me.”

My treatment spanned from January to July. I was not hospitalized during the holiday season, but I still had my challenges with keeping depression at bay when others were trying so hard to lift my spirits. I can only imagine the feeling of those hospitalized during the holidays.

When I woke up in the hospital, it was typically from a nurse checking my vitals and administering morning meds or chemotherapy. My mind was processing a weird dream, remembering something weird and petty, recognizing physical pain and nausea, and generally in a funk. I would do something to stop all of this. I was fortunate to have a window in my room. I would look at the blue sky and a faraway tree and say, “Wow. Thank you!” I felt the wonder of the world.

Hokey? Perhaps. But I still do it to this day. I wake up and my thoughts go in weird directions. “Why am I thinking about this stupid thing?” I look at the blue sky and the palm tree right outside my window and say, “Wow. Thank you!” I feel the wonder of the world. I don’t care if this is “weird.” I feel something good.

Part of the pursuit to feel a pop of joy included talking about my cauldron of emotions with social workers, chaplains, therapists and sometimes family. Some relief was just Grace. Some relief was distracting myself with painting. Some relief was making a phone call. Some relief was allowing myself to feel the way I was feeling in the moment.

My Own Gratitude

I know many people with mental health diseases. My father had Alzheimer disease. My friend’s daughter has schizophrenic dissociative disorder. A relative is trying to move on from life as an opiate addict. I am grateful that I have sobriety and good mental health. This may shock people, but I would rather have cancer than be on the path of death from active alcoholism.

We need not compare ourselves to those with heavy misfortunes to feel grateful. We can simply cherish moments when love is in the room.

Ask for a warm blanket and cuddle up to watch a movie. Permit yourself to sleep. Allow yourself to cry. Share a laugh with someone. Talk to a trusted person if you’re angry. Just because it’s the holidays doesn’t mean you’re expected to jingle all the way. Give yourself some space and pampering. That includes you too, caregivers.

Having dealt with addiction, depression and cancer twice, I do believe that being honest, seeking help from the right people, being creative and releasing stubborn tendencies help us not only cope with life, but reward us with buoyant and grateful moments. It’s OK if we are not in that state of being all the time.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to subscribe to CURE®’s newsletters here.