Dancing in the Rain: Finding Joy & Celebrating Every Win (No Matter How Small!)
I watched Emily’s face fall as the skies opened up, washing away our carefully planned outdoor activity with a torrential downpour. But in a moment of pure magic, my husband Terry took her hand and led her out onto the deck. And there, in the cascading rain, they danced. They twirled and giggled, oblivious to the fact that they were getting soaked to the bone.
That image is the perfect metaphor for what I learned during my cancer journey. There were days when the diagnosis felt like a torrential downpour, drenching me in fear and uncertainty. But even then, I found reasons to celebrate. This isn't just about my story; it's about your story, too. It’s about learning to dance in the rain, not just waiting for the storm to pass.
Healing isn't just about surviving—it’s about reclaiming your power. You are not a statistic. You are not defined by a diagnosis, a treatment plan, or someone else’s expectations. My cancer journey has been a lot like dancing in the rain, and I want to share how I found joy and celebrated every win, no matter how small.
The Myth of the "Big" Win
When you face a cancer diagnosis, the world tells you to focus on the big victories: the end of chemo, a clear scan, or a surgeon’s congratulations. But what about the endless days in between? The daily grind of appointments, side effects, and persistent anxiety can make you feel like you're just enduring, waiting for your life to start again. I understand the overwhelming emotions after a cancer diagnosis.
I've had my share of big wins. My CA125 tumour marker was a terrifying 977 when I started my journey, but after my first two chemo treatments, it plummeted to 21. I was so ecstatic that I threw my hands in the air and shouted "HOORAY!" right on the sidewalk outside the hospital. But those big moments are built on a foundation of countless small victories. It’s these small wins that truly kept me going.
Redefining What a "Win" Really Looks Like
A win isn't just a number on a lab report. It's any moment where you feel empowered, where you choose joy, and where you take back control.
The Underwear Milestone: After days in a hospital bed, the simple act of putting on underwear and pants felt like a monumental achievement. It was a symbol of reclaiming my independence, of my body healing, and of moving from “patient” back to “person”. It was a quiet victory, but in that moment, it felt like a roar of triumph.
Finding Your Voice: During my chemo treatments, I was given a medication that made me terribly lightheaded and a drip that caused my veins to swell and burn painfully. Instead of just enduring it, I found my voice and spoke up. My medical team listened, switched the medication to a pill, and adjusted the chemo drip to be more comfortable. This was a win because every time you advocate for yourself in cancer care, you're taking back control and reclaiming your power.
A Moment of Connection: I remember one particularly tough day at the cancer clinic, feeling frustrated by a long wait. But then a young couple walked in with the same look of cancer fear and anxiety I remembered all too well. Something shifted in me. I walked over and introduced myself, sharing tips about parking and navigating the clinic. In that moment, the frustration melted away. My win wasn’t about my own pain; it was about offering a little comfort to someone else on their journey.
How to Cultivate Your Dance Steps
Finding these wins isn’t about being "positive" all the time; it’s about making conscious choices to support yourself through the struggle. Here are a few ways to start:
Plan a Celebration: Don't just sit and wallow, wondering how to cope with the daily grind of treatment. On days when you know you’ll feel the full force of chemo side effects, plan something small to look forward to, even if it's just a foot massage, a puzzle, or a movie night. Having something on the calendar gives you a sense of anticipation and helps you focus on the positive.
Curate Your Space: I used music as my magical lifeline to manage the stress of cancer. I'd blast 80s music and dance around the house like nobody was watching. Music can instantly shift your mood and energize your body, so crank up those upbeat tunes and let loose!
Listen to Your Body: You are the expert on you. I made my most impactful decisions by blending information with intuition. Whether it's about a treatment plan, understanding medical jargon and asking the right questions to your oncologist or deciding if you need that last round of chemo, trust your gut. Remember the mantra: the genius lies in the “and,” not the “or”.
From My Story to Yours
Healing is not a destination; it's an ongoing choice, made day after day, moment after moment. It’s about finding the rhythm in the chaos, the smile in the struggle, and the light in the darkness. You are not alone in this journey. Every step you take, every decision you make, every small victory you celebrate is a dance step in the rain.
So, keep dancing in the rain, keep celebrating your wins, and keep shining your light. If my story resonated with you, I invite you to dive deeper into the full journey in my book, Going Bonkers with Cancer, where I share the raw truth about my experience and the strategies I used to become my own best advocate. You'll find it and other resources at allisonpazuk.com
