Support me, Support you.

I once "tried" to attend a support group in the small town I was residing in New Zealand. I say I "tried" because it wasn't an uplifting, enlightening experience and I was left feeling discouraged. I remember walking down the hallway and seeing a foursome of women seated around a square table, all well into their 60's (at best) chatting away with the lone young person on one side of the square (the facilitator). I have nothing negative to say about those over 60 years of age and I was able to appreciate what they had been through. The hilarious part was and still is I "tried" to pretend like I was lost and bristle head out the door, though realized far too late the walls were glass from about my neck height down and I had RSVP'd a month prior - turns out they were expecting me. Oops.

These amazing women were all post treatment and at least 2 of them had CLL, though were diagnosed >55 years of age, classically this is the case. I had nothing else in common with them and I was grasping to find an area we could resonate, other than a leukaemia diagnosis. I found it negative and hearing them put down their partners who had forgotten about them at chemo sessions (and not picked them up), or forcibly asked them to continue with the laundry when severely fatigued just wasn't at all my own experience. I empathized with them and felt even more grateful for my own partner, so in a sense, the positive is I felt humbled in a sense.

I left saddened that this was supposed to be an opportunity for me to talk about the fears and emotions I felt for what was to come, but left being asked a TON of questions. I was recognized as a local GP and was even queried as to whether or not I would take the members of the group on as patients. Flattered, yet deflated, I went directly to work and had no time to diffuse.

I reflected on this experience a lot and tried to put a positive spin on it. Realizing what I needed was like-minded, like-aged individuals also with blood cancers, I took to my email and contacted the coordinator for New Zealand. I offered to create, supervise, plan and run a blood cancers support group for those 50 years and under. In return, I was told there may not be enough interest. What?! Well we may not be interested in having cancer, either but atleast give me a shot here.

Not long after, I emailed again to really show my vested interest. This time I was told if there were "enough people" I would hear back and I did not. Big time disappointment and I think a big loss for the region I resided in New Zealand, as well as for me.

The truth is, it isn't until you really need a support group or that village of friends and family, you realize you just can't live without them, all of them. Every single person. I also missed being a shoulder to cry or an ear to listen. It was like I lost my own personal contact with others going through the same, that I had upon diagnosis last year.

I had no idea that my Team in Training group every week, who counted on me being there regularly, knew I counted on them too. It was a mutual "neediness" and when I left each week there was no discounting my emotional state or preparedness for what was coming. What I gained in running with this collective group of people and simply socializing with survivors, family members, friends, overall awesome people what paramount to my mental state.

I write all of this because as physicians, we come across so many of our patients who struggle silently and assure us of their resilience. Every single person needs social connectedness, accountability and a sense of support, admittedly or not. As I cared for my patients day in and day out, the one thing I was missing was another person knowing what it was I was going through; another individual to be there for me too.

#leukemia #CLL #supportgroup #diagnosis #reflection #bloodcancers