positive psychology

the other day npr ran a story about positive psychology, and the medical world's fairly recent embrace of the practice. it is the opposite of the way psychology has worked for years. instead of focusing on what went wrong - the negative if you will - somewhere along the line, from who picked on you at school or what you ate wrong or didn't do enough or where you went awry, it focuses on the positive - all that is right in your corner of the universe. maybe it wasn't your fault. and if it is your fault, maybe there is something you can do about it. behold the power of positive thinking.

during my tenure as cancer patient (i am a hopeful retiree of that employment, i like to think of myself as merely a survivor these days, a survivor with occassional patient responsibilities) i demanded positive thinking and positive energy from the get go. stage III you say? well we caught it before the brain. subcutaneous emphysema? now i know what i'll look like when i get fat. puking everything up all over the place? i won't ever go the bulemia route. seriously, though, it felt the only way to go. of course i'll go for a run when this is all over. i signed up for a ride eight months from now. this is a bummer but it is the only way to go - the other option is ridiculously uncalled for and isn't going to happen. nope. uh-uh. not me. not today. not now. not later.

i find it was incredibly easy to be positive while hovering conveniently under the noses of medical professionals nearly every day. of course, in the back of my mind, i knew there might be something going on inside of me that even they couldn't figure out. but day in and day out, i knew what my marching orders were and how to go about completing my missions. i am going to beat cancer because i am being given all the tools i need to beat it. i have my people propping me up every step of the way and i am going to win. i met someone along the way, told my story, and she proclaimed me full of hope. indeed. the only way to roll. hope, positive thinking, and poison go a long way.

now, i am still positive. the poison has been replaced by the bike. the hope and positive thinking are still there. most of the time. doubt, undoubtedly, creeps in, though. i am not quite sure if someone could go through this and be doubt-free. and if that person exists, i would like to appoint them as my guru. teach me the ways of the doubtless. it is a mystery how i ended up on the short end of the cancer stick. and i'm not talking figuratively. literally, pretty much, a mystery. take your guess, make a wager. maybe it was second-hand smoke. maybe some radon. bad genes? how about too many basketball practices in a freshly-schellacked gym over christmas break? all i know is i don't know, which is why i find myself holding my breath like a fool whenever i walk past a smoker, whenever i am driving behind a truck spewing exhaust (don't even start me on the safety of holding my breath too long while driving), whenever i am in a building that smells at all like cleaning agents or new paint, and even when i am in dusty places. of course i cannot control all that enters my lungs. but i would like to. because i would like to think i was "empty" on the cancer gas tank in june. and the thing about the cancer tank is that prices are so exorbinant i'm better off just leaving it on empty and walking away.

so. positive. 90% of the time or so.

there was an oncologist interviewed in the npr piece who doesn't buy into positive psychology. not because he thinks it is necessarily baulderdash, but because when things don't work out the "right" way and the cancer progresses despite our best medical and psychological efforts, the patient often thinks it is something he or she did to cause it to recur or progress. what an awful feeling, to think it is your fault that the cancer did not respond or stay away. this isn't rain on a parade, folks, it is life and death. and unless the circumstances (dirty smokers especially included) make it so, no one should feel at fault for their own sickness, especially if they thought they were doing all they can. and even if they were doing all they can, but the doubt crept in here and there, it is human and the cancer isn't the product of that doubt.

if i were the doctor, i would be a champion of thinking positively. but i would always be aware of the worst-case scenario. none of my doctors has explicitly told me my worst-case scenario. i am a fully aware adult with a good education and keen research skills. i know my worst-case. i know they know i know. and i know they did their best so far to avoid it, and so did i. and i'm sure as hell not going to get there. but if things ever go some other way than up, i hope i can realize when i'm there that it isn't my fault for thinking of it and being scared. i just hope i'd know what to do.

now, i'm off to do my pre-bed yoga and to visualize the empty space inside my chest. just vital organs and nothing more. say what you want about the empty space in my head...