My battle with cancer helped me forgive and find peace
Since March is kidney cancer awareness month, I asked the folks at Khaleej if I could put politics aside for once and talk about my own battle with renal cancer. They agreed and here I am recounting my experience which helped me rediscover myself and the world around me. Kidney cancer is one cancer that is hard to detect because the organs are deep inside the body. The symptoms appear ‘ordinary’ and normal — if blood in urine, extreme fatigue and chronic low back pain sound ordinary.
It was 2006, which I consider a turning point in my life. My mother was going to start dialysis; she was diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease and her kidneys were failing. I have always been close to my mom so my instinctive decision was to donate one of my kidneys. Back then, I was living in Paris after my studies and had just started a job.
My mom lived in Beirut. She initially rejected the idea of taking my kidney but I made an appointment at a Paris hospital. But it all ended badly.
So, there I was, sitting on a bench on a Thursday morning in October, crying my heart out. Earlier that day, a man in white articulated a two-syllable word that every person fears: “CANCER”, he said; “DEATH”, I thought.
I was just 26. It shattered me. The doctor told me that I couldn’t donate my kidney because there was a tumor in it. I went home devastated, knowing that I would have to wait one month for my biopsy appointment in order to find out if the 7cm tumor was benign or not.
The results came after 30 days and it was what I had feared: Renal Cell Carcinoma Fuhrman Grade 2. I thought to myself, “Christiane you have survived a war, you survived so many hard situations, you can deal with this”. But the fact was I was terrified and alone. My only pillars were my best friend Julie and my then boyfriend Francisco.
I decided not to tell my parents. What was the use of dropping such a bomb on them while they were far away and mom was going to start dialysis? My brother rushed to support me as the urologist’s decision was to remove my right kidney and clean the surrounding area. He was very caring and took really good care of me but ten days later, he had to go back to Lebanon and Julie and Francisco stepped in to help.
A month later, my scar got infected and needed an intervention; the surgery triggered major depression in me. I resented every needle, pill, doctor-chats; I just wanted to vanish. Francisco was supportive but my silence was unbearable to him. I would go for days without spilling a word. My depression lasted a year and I never spoke about it to anyone. I could not turn to God as I had abandoned him during my 10 years in Paris.
I felt completely alone. Inside me there was a huge void that I started to fill with comfort food. That year, I gained 25 kilos. The more I ate, the more I hated myself. I drifted away from Francisco and I felt sad and lonely.
Francisco and I finally broke up. It was a dark, very dark year. That triggered traumas and anxieties from being a war-child in Beirut in the eighties. I was later diagnosed with Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD)
Today, 13 years later, I realise that cancer was never a death sentence for me but rather a wake-up call. From wanting to save my mothers’ life by donating her my kidney, it was she who saved me. After I had become my own worst enemy, cancer led me to a place where I finally came to forgive and make peace with myself. I went into therapy and learned how to cope with stress and most importantly it helped me to let go of things I can’t control and just live in the present, in the moment.
I also realised that I am responsible of my own health. So I work out and try to lead a healthy life — taking care of my mental health as well. I eventually came to realise who I was. I returned to Lebanon after living abroad for 17 years.
I have now made peace with myself, my land, and everything that was keeping me stuck in my own prison.
Today, 13 years later, I realise that cancer was never a death sentence for me but rather a wake-up call. From wanting to save my mothers’ life by donating her my kidney, it was she who saved me