How do you write a blog about getting cancer to a community you’ve been blogging to for over two years about health and well-being? Especially when you usually try and start the new academic term with cheer and rah-rah? I guess you just start writing.
The summer took a sudden turn when I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Suddenly, the plans for a relaxing vacation to recharge, the time to focus on work I care deeply about, the opportunity to get things in order for the fall, fell like the tears that honestly have fallen from my face.
No one wants to hear a diagnosis of cancer (or any other disease for that matter) because it changes things abruptly from what is known into a deep unknown. Humans deeply resist two things above all else: That which we cannot control and that which we don’t know. The first creates uncertainty that leads to anxiety. The second invites false narratives where we try to fill in the unknown with stories or scenarios that may or may not be true, because we simply do not know the outcome. We make decisions on the best data available, and that data may be incomplete. But we do the best we can. Lack of control and uncertainty can be really scary places in which humans sit; I am currently one of them.
What gives me great concern also brings great hope (Two things can be true at the same time!) If I am wrestling with this diagnosis and how it has upended my life, I know I am not the only one. Statistically, I’m not the only one carrying a scary diagnosis. But I also know that although my life has been upended, it is constantly being uplifted by the love of friends, family and colleagues who have rallied their support, encouragement, terrible jokes, food and reminders that this too shall pass.
My hope is every person who struggles has an opportunity to feel the love I have felt. That type of caring creates hope that fuels a well-built community. I’ve experienced it happening in real time: a meal on the porch, a text at midnight, a colleague quietly covering a meeting so I could rest. None of it fixes the diagnosis. All of it makes the diagnosis tolerable. My experience has led me to believe that we, Clemson, can pretty much do anything, including face cancer and other things that make us struggle, if we practice and repeat acts of love and care.
People ask me all the time how I am. Cancer AND therapy are brutal on my physical body, and mentally, it’s just as draining. I was deeply grateful for a small window of energy to write this piece, but I also know it won’t last and I’ll need to rest. Spiritually, though, I am filled, my tank is strong, and it’s largely because of people in this community who care. They show up with food, notes, calls, gifts — and again — I say it’s that care that underpins what makes Clemson a truly great place.
I keep coming back to that. “What makes Clemson, Clemson?” It’s a reflection I sit with personally and professionally, because I believe the heart of that question is what makes for the well-being we seek to build. The kind of showing up I have seen isn’t a one-time act of kindness. It’s a muscle. Clemson has it. I’ve felt it firsthand these past few weeks, and I don’t think that’s an accident. I think it’s what happens when a community decides, on purpose, that struggle is something we carry together instead of something people carry alone. This idea is worth protecting. It’s worth developing. It’s worth flexing. And it will be worth continuing, long after I’m well.
So, what I ask of you during this time as we begin a new academic year, is reach out to someone else who may be struggling and let them know they are not alone. If you are hurting, don’t be afraid to reach out for help. Asking for help has been crucial for me. Either connect with someone you trust, or check out our many, many resources we have to support you in the new Well-Being Resource Hub (I’m using these resources, too!).
No matter the struggle, with the people of Clemson caring alongside one another, we can do anything.
This is Clemson at its best. I’m counting on it.
Anna Fitch Courie, DNP, RN-PHNA-BC
Chief Well-being Officer
