In my previous post, I described how I managed a nonprofit through the Great Recession while also battling mantle cell lymphoma. After six rounds of chemo, I entered the bone marrow transplant unit at Massachusetts General Hospital and spent 30 days in isolation before returning home for another month of quarantine. Here’s what I learned about getting through those two months:
Dress for Success: I ran into one of my Mass General nurses from the bone marrow transplant unit on the subway a couple of months ago. We hadn’t seen each other in 10 years, so it was lovely to see her reaction to a patient who was so sick back then now living life and appreciating it. We laughed because I’m as bald now as I was then. She said that the thing she remembers about me to this day is how I was the only patient she ever had who didn’t stay in his pajamas or hospital Johnny all day. Every day, I got up and put on a fresh pair of clothes that always matched (my amazing wife brought me clean clothes every few days). I’ve been working from home full-time for the past four years, and I have persisted in this habit. I dress as if I were going to work, and I wear real pants, even though most of my Zoom meetings will never reveal that they match (quite nicely, if I do say so myself).
Make A Schedule: We’re all dealing with a lot of unstructured time right now as workplans get pushed off and meetings get cancelled. Every day at MGH, after I put on those snazzy clothes, I wrote out a schedule for the day, blocked out by the hour. I found that if I didn’t, time did two contradictory things, neither of which was helpful: it moved glacially and also slipped away from me. Before I started doing the schedule, I discovered that four hours went by that felt like eight, and I could not recall what I’d actually done or accomplished in that time.
Mix fun and work: That schedule wasn’t just about work. If you’re going to read a book, watch Netflix, walk the dog, or make a nice meal, block that time out too. It will help you think about how to balance the time you invest in your own care with the time you need to devote to your job and to those around you. By the way, it helps me to budget time that I allow for reading news and social media, which is often where I have found those four hours disappear without a trace.
One mile at a time to ride 100: Before I got cancer, I was a long-distance cyclist, competing in Century rides (100 mile races), which took me around four and a half to five hours to finish . A lesson you learn doing any long-distance events is that you have to live in the mile you’re riding. If you think to yourself, 5 miles down, 95 to go, you’ll slowly go insane. Live in the mile you’re riding right now and make it a good mile. Worry about the next mile when it comes.
Forgive yourself: You will end up breaking each and every one of these rules. You’ll have a bad mile. Recognize that falling down emotionally will be part of this ride. Pick yourself back up and ride the next mile better than the bad one you just had.
If you want more inspiration, you can see my Top 10 Good Things About BMT Isolation that I wrote 11 years ago now. All of those lessons still apply, and I’m grateful to still be here to appreciate them today. Wishing you strength and endurance.