Life Challenges

People Tell Their Stories:
Healing/Illness/Caregiving

On Second Chances by Lien Cao

Exactly 23 years ago, 1975, most of you who were watching TV saw the last helicopters leave Vietnam. That was the fall of Saigon, and I was part of those people. It is still very hard for me to talk about it. We jumped on a boat, and people were dying around us. People were shooting. People were throwing children in the water if they couldn't survive.

When I first got to the U.S., I remember I saw a rose. I couldn't imagine anybody needing anything else. It was just so beautiful. To see a free rose. A rose in a public garden. Having gone through 25 years of my life living through the war, and seeing houses destroyed right after they were built, I was determined to make the most of my life, of my second chance.

I decided that I wanted to build something for my children. Luckily I was good in math and science, and rode the waves of computers to become a computer engineer. I worked very, very, very hard for 20 years. I started as a computer engineer and moved up the ranks as an instructor, a manager, an administrator, a mentor.

I was managing international projects, flying through Europe and Asia. I was at the height of my career and was named mentor to a group of newly assigned managers.

At the Height of My Career

When I went for my baseline mammogram and discovered something, I went to my doctor and he said there was nothing to be concerned about because I was young, healthy and Asian. He said that Asian people don't get cancer. He did recommend a biopsy, and I found out it was malignant. But I was at the height of my career and I was not going to let this stop me.

I went through the biopsy and through 35 radiation treatment. At the time, I lived in Los Angeles. I was mentor to a group of people who lived in the Bay area. So everyday I was on the radiation table at six o'clock in the morning in Los Angeles, so I could take a 7:30 flight. I would teach, go back the same day, and do it again the next day--for 35 days. My body was exhausted, but my mind did not let me stop. I was determined to continue on this road, on this second chance.

The Challenge of Asking for Support

I want to say something here about Ronnie, a woman in Los Angeles who ran groups. At the time I was very depressed, and I went to one of her groups. A few things I couldn't hear, but there were a few that I could. One is that I was awakening from the illusion of immortality. I had always been mortal. That was a great piece of information for me.

The other thing she said, and I don't remember the exact words, was that, the second time she had cancer, her aunt or someone had asked her how she wanted to be supported, and she said, "I want you to call me every Sunday morning at 7:00 in the morning, and I want you to listen to me." That was something so foreign to me, and I could not hear it. Still to this day I cannot do it.

There is a part of me though that knows that is right. But there is a part of me--and this is probably from my culture--that cannot come to a group and talk about my own life, or my own fear, or my own difficulties. In our culture we learn to take care of things in our family, and it is very hard to reach out. Even though I did not have any support at home, it was still very hard to reach out. I am making this point because I see very few Asians in the support groups, and I just want to remember that they do suffer alone--even when they don't reach out.

Telling My Father

In my case, I had not even told my own father that I was being treated for breast cancer. My father lived in Canada at the time with my stepsister, and one day, she called to say that my father was dying. I made sure she did not tell my father that I had cancer. I did not want him to be concerned about me when he was gong through his own illness. So I talked to her on the phone, and I let her know that I would interrupt my own treatment to go visit my father.

There was a lot of trepidation as to what I would tell him. Yet somehow, after being in Ronnie's group, I decided that I would tell him the truth. I came in, sat by his bed, and I told him. He said, " I knew it; I knew it all along. By the way your sister was talking on the phone, I knew something was wrong."

He said "I also know that you are in a lot of pain. I am dying, and I want you to know that I am taking all this pain with me. All of your pain."

I want to make this point again, because so many of us protect our families, especially our parents. But they've been through so much, and they know a lot more than we do.

Going through "Why Me?"

After visiting my father, I did not want to be seen as someone who had lost steam, so was I was back in the rat race, not missing a beat at work. I was determined not to be viewed as someone who is no longer promotable material. I also had to make up for the time I lost for the treatment and the trip for my father. So I worked even harder.

Then, exactly one year later, in January 1993, I went for my mammogram, and the radiologist found three distinct areas on the other breast. I went for a second opinion at the Stanford tumor board, and they said, "Your body tends to create cancer cells, so this time we recommend a complete mastectomy."

I was getting the best medical advice, yet I was falling apart. I asked myself, "If cutting parts off my body is way to treat cancer, will I keep cutting it until the end of my life? Is that the price I have to pay in order to stay alive?" Then I went through all the "Why me?" and "Why me?" again. I asked, "Did I have to go though all this? Did I risk the evacuation to come and die in this abundant country? Who was going to take care of my children? Does anyone care here?

Finally Reaching Out for Support

I went into a very deep depression and realized that I had to reach out and ask for help. I reached out to The Wellness Community in Walnut Creek, California. The organization has excellent support groups.

That was the beginning of my transformation. I witnessed magical moments in that group where there were about four men and ten women. In the eight months I was there, the four men died. We have no choice as to the prognosis or the cancer that we are given. But in looking at those four people who died, they all died so differently. Some people, who only had two months to live, lived as though they had 200 years. Some people, who are still there, lived as though they had a very short time.

I kept asking questions, "So what is that difference? What is life about? What do I want to do with this second chance? What is the meaning of my life?" The group helped me in a lot of these different areas. Not just in helping me get through my treatment, but in looking into all the areas of my life that were not in alignment, with some sort of calling, some sort of soul of life.

Changing My Life

When it was time for me to go back to work, I went to the group and shared my concern. I still remember Alan, whom I later on found had an advanced stage of cancer and died about a month later. He just looked me in the eye and said, "Go with your heart. You are a psychologist."

Now, I had children to support, I had a good job. It had taken me 20 years to get to this point. How could I let go of my job? But in time I went back to school, got my degree, and went back to The Wellness Community to lead support groups. That was the biggest, the largest, the most tremendous gift that I received. It is such a privilege to me that I can keep working in a field where I can keep telling, saying, to people what I need to be reminded of the most.

Life's Meaning

What is my meaning in life, what is the purpose in me being on this planet? I am finding out, as a lot of women are, that there is not a blueprint out there. There is no long-term plan. It is what emerges each day. It is whatever emerges from the connection that I make with people. Whatever emerges from my relationships.

I want to honor the people who have been ahead of me, connecting with each other, because to me that is a way of transcending life. I also want to honor all of the women who are not here and who are suffering alone. Whether it is because of their culture, or because they are depressed, or because they have not reached out, and nobody has reached them.

© 1998 Healing Journeys. This transcript is from the 1998 Cancer as a Turning Point--From Surviving to Thriving™ Conference held in Oakland, California and is used by permission of Jan Adrian, Executive Director of Healing Journeys.

Lien Cao is a psychologist and leads support groups at The Wellness Community in Walnut Creek, California.

Healing Journeys (www.healingjourneys.org) sponsors a free annual Cancer as a Turning Point, From Surviving to Thriving™ conference in Northern California and other locations. The purpose of the conference is to celebrate, empower, awaken and network all those whose lives are touched by cancer or any life-threatening illness, including people experiencing illness, healthcare providers and people supporting friends or family with cancer. If you would like more information about Healing Journeys and its conferences or to find out about videotapes of past conferences, call 800-423-9882. You can also e-mail Jan Adrian of Healing Journeys at jan@healingjourneys.com

| Illness/Healing/Caregiving | People Tell Their Stories |