Loving Well: Life After Cancer

In the last post, we heard from Heidi Becker about the whirlwind year in and out of the hospital as their family battled Drew’s cancer. After Drew died, the needs of their family shifted. This week, Heidi shares what life after cancer looks like and how we can support grieving families.  

I can imagine that life after cancer would be different, to say the least. What did your first year of grief look like? 

Grief is different for everyone, even in the cancer world. We knew there would be a lot of “lasts” once we got towards the end of Drew’s life. It was a blessing to know that an event or holiday would be a “last” so that we could soak in the experience and treasure the moments. I feel blessed that we were able to say goodbye the way we did versus having his death come as a shock. 

However, I remember putting him to bed one night and thinking, “How will I ever live without you?” And yet I am. If someone had told me a week before Drew’s diagnosis that he would spend a year in intense treatment and that I would watch him die, I would have collapsed. But God got us through it. We went into chemo treatment with confidence that God would carry us through day by day, and I trust that He will continue to walk with us each day until we meet Him. I’ve heard many people say, “You are so strong as you handle this. I couldn’t handle this.”  But that’s the thing... no human can handle this. But God can. That’s where the strength comes from. It’s not from me. 

We were relieved that we were done with cancer. I could breathe. I could rest knowing that Drew was safely resting. I didn’t have to sleep lightly and listen for puking in the other room. I didn’t have to listen for his cries. So it was a relief, in a weird way. Of course, I would have rather continued fighting with him, but it’s okay to admit that the battle with cancer is over. We have peace and rest for now, and that’s okay. I felt ashamed to admit that for a while, but it is okay to experience relief and rest from the battle with cancer.

The whole year that we watched Drew suffer was hard because I couldn’t do anything to make him better. I wanted to take his pain away, even for a moment to give him a break. While he was here, he carried the burden of physical suffering. The burden shifted to me when he was set free to live with Jesus. He got an eternal break and I carry the burden of grief. I’ll take that. Drew is completely healed and dancing with Jesus, and I’ll carry the burden of grief until I join him. I’m okay knowing that the burden is on me rather than him. 

How have you practically managed your “burden of grief”?

I had to decide how I wanted to live my life after Drew went home. Did I want to be a person that solicited sympathy from everyone? Could I do whatever I wanted because my child just died? I had to set up healthy habits early on because I knew the ripple effect that my decisions would have on my life. I knew that I needed to remain healthy and that I had to set up boundaries to protect myself. For example, I couldn’t look at pictures or deal with heavy grief emotions right before bed. Similarly, I didn’t want to start drinking alcohol, because I knew that for me it could turn into an unhealthy habit. I didn’t start anything that wasn’t a part of my normal routine.

I think about grief on two separate scales: the intensity of sadness and my ability to cope. The feeling of sadness varies over time, but the intensity generally decreases over time. The feeling of sadness may spike around birthdays and holidays, but it’s usually less intense over time. The other scale is my ability to cope with all of the emotions. I have learned how to cope over time, so my coping scale usually outweighs the intensity scale. We can’t control the crisis or trauma, but we can control how we respond and feel over time.

Grief is a lot more physical than I thought. I lost hair and gray hair came in full force! I developed skin problems and my menstrual cycle was impacted.  And on top of that, I learned that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is real. I thought PTSD just happened to soldiers in war zones. I experienced panic attacks. The beeping of an alarm clock reminded me of hospital noises and of the medical equipment at home. 

What were some fears and hurdles you tackled after Drew went home? 

In the beginning, I really struggled with the idea that I would forget Drew. After his death, I had to acclimate myself because “he was just here.” But then I transitioned to “he was just here.” As we progress further and further away from his death, I’m not used to him being around, which is really hard. I had to wrestle with the idea that it’s okay to move on. I don’t have to feel guilty about enjoying my day. 

The book Heaven by Randy Alcorn was so helpful for me. Alcorn points out biblical references that support the idea that those who have died are aware of us somehow.  Though I don’t understand how it all works, I do know that Drew would not want me to mope around. There is a new relationship to be had with him, so I shouldn’t get stuck in the past with his memory. 

Let’s talk about Warrior Wagons. Could you share the mission behind this incredible organization and what it does?

During Drew’s chemo treatment, a friend gave us a collapsible wagon for Drew’s visits to the hospital and it was so helpful. We would carry him around and load up the supplies we needed for the hospital. So, our family started Warrior Wagons after Drew died in 2017. The mission of Warrior Wagons is to give newly diagnosed pediatric cancer families a collapsible wagon filled with practical and comfort items as they begin their cancer journeys. So far, Warrior Wagons has given wagons to 65 families in Minnesota and Illinois.

That is incredible! I suspect many who are reading this are either walking through a season of grief or are supporting someone who is currently in the trenches. What wisdom or advice do you have from your experiences so far? 

Encouragement can be tricky. When giving encouragement to someone, pray before you meet with them.  Before I meet with families to deliver a “Warrior Wagon,” I ask the Lord to guide my words and help me say the right things. When visiting with someone in crisis, we often don’t know what type of day they’re having or how our words will affect them. Prayer is an excellent place to start.

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Wow. I am so thankful for Heidi’s willingness to openly share her experiences with the “cancer world” and life afterward. You can keep up with Heidi at her blog, Drawing from Drew. Additionally, please check out Warrior Wagons, Inc for more information on this incredible non-profit organization.