by Louise
Sho ga nai
Sho ga na katta
It can't be helped.
It couldn't be helped.
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I lived in Japan in the 1980's and I heard these phrases all the time. In the land of earthquakes and tsunamis you can't hold onto grudges or worries long or you would be overwhelmed with grief and sadness.
I have been trying to hold on to this philosophy today as I continue my cancer journey, however, with mixed success. What will be thrown at me next? What fresh hell? First, I was diagnosed with CLL, (a chronic form of leukemia that is no picnic) and then with another cancer (breast cancer, which after surgery, chemo and radiation is thankfully gone). Then more recently with a possible third cancer (lung cancer). I focus on my breath and meditate on sho ga nai, sho ga na katta. It can't be helped. It couldn't be helped. It just is.
“Fight cancer,” people say. “You need to get in there and fight it.” What they don't realize is that for some people, like me, it is a long game, and you have to conserve your energy. You must dig deep and hold a steady course. The hardest part is that you don't know the course and where it will take you, and how tired you will be along the way. And regular life doesn't stop. There are still dishes to wash and taxes to pay. Life ticks along.
“Hey Louise, was it a morel or a chanterelle mushroom?” my friend Donnie quipped. Humour has been my steady companion throughout my cancer journey and this was an excellent time for a joke! I had just woken up after surgery for a possible lung cancer tumour on December 19th, 2023, and, of all things, my surgeon gleefully told me that the tumour was a cherry-sized ball of fungus called histoplastomosis, not cancer. Unfortunately, to find this out, it was still necessary to go through a major surgical procedure, almost losing a lobe of my lung.
A person contracts this kind of fungus from breathing in mushroom spores that live in the soil in eastern Canada and can be found in bat guano and chicken poop. My body encapsulated the bundle of yeast-like substance and protected me from a life-threatening illness. “Well, Louise,” I was told, “You must have travelled to the wrong place and breathed it in!”
It took two years since the finding of a suspicious nodule in my lung to learn that I am one of the lucky ones! And after a visit to an infectious disease specialist (who had to consult with his colleagues around the world about histoplastomosis), I had another lucky break. There would be no need to take major anti-fungal medications.
I am free. I can make plans again. I don't have to lose my hair to chemo again. I exhaled, stunned. My friends say, “Gee you are fortunate, you didn't need to worry after all.” Really? Fortunate? I am still recovering from major surgery. The surgeon used 500 teeny, tiny little period sized titanium staples to close up the cut in my lung. Which is kind of cool, but surgery is surgery. It will take time to recover.
I have to smile. The cancer journey varies so greatly for each individual who experiences it. Waiting for test results. Waiting to see oncologists. Waiting to see if the treatment works. Living in hope. Living with fear. Sho ga nai. Sho ga na katta. It can't be helped. It couldn't be helped.
People around me don't seem to understand that I don't know what lies ahead. I can't predict anything. I will just have to continue to breathe. To accept what is. To sit with my fellow cancer friends in a circle. To share my ups and downs. To hold on and maybe one day I will have to let go. It's just the way it is. I do know one thing for sure---I am staying out of caves with bats in them!
Louise first came to Callanish as a retreat participant in November 2016. She has found a spiritual and nurturing home at Callanish. She works as a doctor of Traditional Chinese medicine and loves the Callanish ethos of bringing art and nature and poetry into the art of healing.