On 9 March we ran our second ever Shine Plus Ones workshop in London. We were joined by the partners, siblings and parents of young adults who are living with cancer. It was a great day that covered some tough subjects but we left feeling like we’d spent the day in the company of nice people (always a bonus if you’re going to spend your Saturday talking about cancer!). We are also really grateful that one of our Plus Ones, Chris, wrote a blog about the day so that we didn’t have to! Whether you’re a Plus One or not, take a read – it’s so important that, in addition to the person with cancer, that those around them get the right support too.
Hello, my name is Chris and I’m a Plus One.
Three months ago my 32-year old fiancée was diagnosed with cancer. An adenocarcinoma of the submandibular gland – salivary gland cancer. She’s had surgery, healing, radiotherapy and now more healing, with plenty of tears, pain and mucus involved. Mentally she’s doing pretty bloody well considering. It’s a rollercoaster, as well you’ll likely know if you’re reading this.
For me, my fiancée’s diagnosis came off the back of my mum finding out that she had Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma 11 years ago, at the age of 51. A few months later, her 53-year old brother was diagnosed with bone cancer and died within months.
Anyway, what I’m getting at, is that it’s been tough, right? I was 22 when my mum was diagnosed and that was scary. Now I’m 33, and man, I’ve just got onto a much bigger rollercoaster.
The last few months have been tough. There’s been support – some fantastic NHS surgeons, registrars, consultants, nurses, radiographers, receptionists, dietitians, speech therapists, and physios. And we’ve been lucky to have access to some brilliant Macmillan nurses, coordinators and counsellors. But the one thing we’ve been missing? Young people. Friends our age don’t always get what we’re going through, and frankly why should they?
It’s tough waiting for appointments in rooms of 30 people, all looking at least 30, 40, even 50 years older than us. Of course it’s sh*t for them too – no one should have to go through this, no matter what age. But there are differences when going through this at our age, and that’s where Shine comes in.
Shine Plus One
We found Shine after some helpful recommendations. We joined some online groups and pencilled in a few diary dates – for me, it was the Shine’s Plus One Workshop, for my fiancée, some meet-ups, and for both of us, Shine’s Connect conference in May.
A few weeks passed and I was on a morning train up to London, with my fiancée resting at home with morphine, Breaking Bad and her sister to help out.
Arriving at Somerset House I was welcomed with loud hellos, broad smiles and hot tea – a pretty good start! There were a dozen or so of us there, mostly new to Plus Ones and understandably a little nervous.
We settle in with Emma (one of the co-founders, and an excellent facilitator of what is a tough crowd, let’s be honest!). She laid out the plan for the day and put us at ease. Emma gave a little context and talks about what the charity does. Short answer: some bloody great work (though you can find out more details here). One thing that’s evident is the many friendships formed through Shine’s activities. It becomes clear that these friendships are genuine and numerous the more the day goes on, with references to funny stories of people in the room or those they support, and photos from events full of hugs and smiles.
An icebreaker is there to break any tension and put people at ease, and without giving anything away, Emma did a great job. We were introduced to each other, to our situations and to what we were looking to get from the day. There were some tears, naturally (myself included), but there were plenty of laughs there too.
The conversation turned to talking about support from friends and family, and how so many people get it so wrong or do so little. There were lovely stories as well though – people happily being pointed in the direction of a cooker, cleaning products or a lawn mower. We ended feeling significantly better equipped to request help from those who offer it.
We had a great first few discussions but stomachs were rumbling, so we went off to lunch. There was mingling and conversation over a generous amount of sandwiches, salads and snacks (the remainder of which is later donated to two nearby homeless gentlemen). We referenced the great experiences of the NHS, and the not so great ones. And we all agreed that if you want anything done then quiet compliance just isn’t going to cut it!
Coming back from lunch I paused to consider how well it’s going – I already felt more supported, more understood, less alone.
Kathy (a kind counsellor who works with families and patients in hospitals) facilitated a discussion around themes of loss. We broke off into groups and the expected came up – certainty, spontaneity, plans, time, but also some of those things that feel unique to those of our age that are facing this – loss of future family and career.
The topics were fed back to the group and then we discussed coping techniques, and even some of the gains you can get through this process – strength in your relationships and worrying less about the little things, nicely named by one of the participants as ‘give-a-f**k-ability’!
We then moved to talking about coping with worry. We talked about how you can feel knackered from being constantly tense, and waiting for more bad news. We talked about techniques to help with worry – writing worries down, drilling in and fully understanding them, or even dedicating some worry time in the day, leaving you free elsewhere.
As it was nearing the end of the workshop now, Emma slowed things down a little and gave us some time for ourselves with a relaxing eight minute mindfulness exercise. We slowly came around and drifted over to the bar, conveniently located in the room across from us.
Pub half (yes that’s three halves!)
The chats continued and moved seamlessly between how we’re coping and the everyday. We learned a little more about each other – walks were organised and details exchanged. We were just another group of people chatting in the pub, not defined by what we’re going through. Not defined by cancer.
I reflected on the day during my journey back to down to Brighton. I’m amazed at how much impact it had, how quickly I felt connected with the group, how much we laughed, how much we understood each other, how similar our experiences have been.
It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t a barrage of sadness. It felt normal, useful, fantastic.
I was left thinking “how can I help”? Help fundraise for a excellent charity, help others access what I got, help others understand the benefits. I’m starting with this blog.
If you’d like to get in touch with other Plus Ones, you can request to join our Shine Plus Ones Facebook group (make sure to answer the questions!). You can also drop Salma (a Plus One herself) a line at firstname.lastname@example.org to find out about meet ups and events.