Getting an incurable cancer diagnosis means that all work stops.
And then the real work begins.
Given only 2 months to live, it was a very easy decision to stop working as I wanted to spend what time I had left with my family.
But here I am, four and a half years later.
Since then I’ve had loads of jobs, none of them paid and I’m working harder than I’ve ever done in my life.
You see having cancer and going through treatment is bloody hard graft. It requires bags and bags of energy and persistence.
Your official full-time position is ‘Survivor’ because you spend all of your time surviving. This catch-all title doesn’t really get to the heart of what you do. A survivor is a true polymath.
In the last few years I reckon I’ve had at least two dozen jobs. I haven’t applied for any of them, they’ve just materialised and happened and I don’t get paid a bean.
As a cancer ‘Survivor’ I have had to learn to become a detective, an immunologist, a fact checker, a translator, an oncology pharmacist, a cage fighter, a pet psychologist, a fiscal manager, a bullshit detector, a trick cyclist, a nutritionist, a plate spinner, a fortune cookie writer, a Chief Happiness Officer, a special forces operative, a self-counselling counsellor, a courage broker, a free-range optimist, a mental chimney sweep, a hopepunk and a grit spreader.
To be a cancer survivor you take on a multi-disciplinary mindset, you learn to be a Swiss Army knife and equip yourself with new skills and new vocabularies. You become a dilettante and dabbler across trades and professions.
Being a polymath goes with the patient territory.
A cancer diagnosis throws you into the deep-end and although there are no expectations placed upon you, the reality is, you find yourself doing an awful lot of work.
To stay alive and thrive, you do what it takes. You become creative, you get busy and start to cover ground in a field you’d never even considered walking in before.
That’s important too because cancer can force you to work monomaniacally in isolation, focus on nothing else, get bogged down and before you know it, you’ve lost the plot.
Cancer is heterogeneous, complex and a disruptor. In response that means we have to be too and take on many new identities and be prepared to work at them.
I still mourn the career cancer robbed me of but I’ve had to evolve and be willing to redefine what work actually is. That might be the same for you too. If it is, then welcome to the world of juggling multiple roles and being a jack of all trades.
Having a linear career was something I always thought I’d experience as a teacher. I was always told that was a job for life. The thing is, life gets in the way and takes you out of the job.
We have to look elsewhere and embrace new realities. For me, that might mean in just one day I’m a DJ, diplomat, dung carter, dog whisperer, dentist, dish washer and dice maker.
Tomorrow, it will be a whole new ball game and doing jobs I’ve never done before. Working at cancer is doing whatever it takes to stay alive.