“With wisdom let your mind full of love pervade one-quarter of the world, and so too the second, third and fourth quarter. Fill the whole wide world, above, below, around, pervade the world with love-filled thought, free from any ill will, love abounding, sublime, beyond measure.” –The Digha Nikaya, Buddhist scripture
“Of all of the fires, love is the only inexhaustible one.” –Pablo Nerudo, poet
Last month I took my final dose of chemotherapy in the grueling regimen for Acute Lymphoblastic Lymphoma I have been taking since December 2013. Days before a PET CT had confirmed there was no evidence of cancer in my body. And a few weeks later I stood in front of the ocean and took this photo.
I was in Hawaii for my brother’s wedding—a celebration I was thrilled to share with him, and a symbolic moment for me. It was the first vacation I had taken since becoming sick, the anticipation becoming a focal point over the last few months. I was going to finish chemo and make my flight to Hawaii as if my soul depended on it.
When all this started, almost three years ago, I wrote a post titled, Love Is… (Holy Shit, I Have Cancer). To my surprise it was widely shared on Facebook and the Huffington Post. I never set out to become a “cancer blogger,” and in fact had shied away from writing about such personal things in public forums, but suddenly there were people curious about me and invested in my story. I wanted to keep writing. But how to continue the narrative, as it was happening, with no idea how it would unfold?
And so I have thought about what I would say here—at the end—for so long, turning over words and lines in my head. How would I write a finale to this story? How could I sum everything up in a meaningful way, while not painting meaning onto an experience that, if I’m being honest, was lonely, chaotic, random, and neither romantic nor sentimental?
I do not believe everything happens for a reason (a platitude, in my opinion, too easily offered to those struck inexplicably and unfairly by life’s cruelties)—but I believe we can find meaning in the things that happen. In the middle of the nightmare I clutched desperately onto one hope; the hope that at the end there would be some goodness that made the whole mess worthwhile—a light only this path could have carried me to.
When I was first diagnosed I had been in a long-term (nearly five year) relationship, which unraveled shortly after. And although I was confident it was the right decision, and more preoccupied with the immediate concern of surviving, the anguish sunk my heart into my chest as if the space around it had been eroding for years. The loneliness grew into a consuming void.
About a year later, I saw a psychic. I was tormented by the idea I would be infertile from the chemotherapy, and so I asked her if I would have any children. She said yes—one boy and one girl. I asked her about the man I would marry. What would he look like? What would he be like? How would I know it was him?
She told me he would not be older than me like I had imagined, but would be my age or younger. She told me he would be strong and smart and sensitive and kind, but so unassuming I could overlook him. She told me to pay attention carefully.
Since then I have turned these thoughts over and over again in my mind, each turn further refining the image of this man from a shadow into a clear vision. So when we met earlier this year, it did not feel like the first time we had crossed paths. It was as if I recognized him—as if we already knew each other. He was the one I had seen in my dreams.
I had been dating for six or so months prior, with variable success. On those early dates I would hold back until halfway through, when I would anxiously and apologetically reveal I was a cancer survivor. “I’m still on chemo, but don’t worry, I’m in remission and everything is fine,” I would say, dismissively.
I was truly surprised no one seemed to care or hold it against me. The reactions ranged from, “Oh, interesting” to “Oh, do you mind if I ask how it happened?” to “Oh, my cat had leukemia so I know what that’s like” (really).
I became more confident revealing my story, and soon decided to state it overtly in my dating profile: “I’m a cancer survivor, with the renewed appreciation for life and awesome short hair to prove it.” Some men even contacted me explicitly because of my short hair, and when I joked it had grown out a bit since I had taken my photos, they would say, not kidding as much as you’d think, “Well, that’s what scissors are for.”
But still, while a potential date might appreciate my super stylish short hair, I assumed when he got to know me the jig would be up. I would subtly dissuade any man from getting close to me; if describing my cancer-related physical and emotional instability was not sufficient to send him on his way, I would emphasize other red flags. “I have a lot of baggage” I’d say. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want to date me.” I felt sure no one could really love me after everything I had been through. And if he did, it would be despite my history, and certainly not in any way because of it.
When I met this man, though, I felt understood in a way I didn’t know was possible. On our first date we sat across each other over nachos, and he asked me, eager and curious, about the experience—not so much the specifics of what had happened, but what it had meant to me.
(He later admitted that after that first evening he went home and told his brother, “Yeah, she’s super smart and beautiful, but even more I really like that she had cancer.” He said he admired how I seemed wise from the experience and talked about it thoughtfully. He said, “I don’t know how to explain it… but the cancer thing is really fucking sexy.”)
On our second date we sat next to each other over drinks. Midway through the evening, he paused. “Do you know what I really like about you?” he said. I thought he might mention one of the superficial qualities others sometimes compliment me on, but that I don’t value too much in myself. But instead he pointed out something most people rarely notice, and fewer have admired me for. He said, “I really dig that you’re an introvert.”
On our third date we lay on the grass at Will Rogers State Park, looking up at the sky. It started as a midday picnic but ended late into the night. We ate Tender Greens and drank wine and played guitar. And as we became closer, I shared with him the rest of me—all of the pain, all of the ugly parts—but it did not dissuade him. It made him love me even more.
After not much longer we were sitting on the couch and he looked me in the eyes. “I am going to marry you,” he said. It was more statement than question. He said, “I know what I know.” It was the first breath of air as I lifted myself to the surface of the ocean. It was the light only this path could have carried me to.
—
Someone recently asked me if, in retrospect, there is something I would have told myself at the beginning to help me get through it. I shook my head; there was no possible way I could have understood how bad things were going to get—nor should I have had to.
I would have said, though, do not try to hedge against the suffering because there is no point—this will be a horror that can not be fought, and must simply be endured—although enduring it will not be simple, nor static. I would have said the pain will make you utterly unrecognizable to yourself, and it will be so terrifying, and so beyond anything you have ever experienced, that it will astound you it can be survived. But it can be survived, and you will survive it.
Most importantly, I would have given myself the reassurance others desperately wanted to give me, and I desperately wanted to give myself, but that none of us knew was true until now. I would have said, It will end. I would have said, You will live, and the happiest moments in your life will be not before cancer, but after.
So, now, what could I tell you about love?
I would say love is my past, and it is my story, and my story can not be taken from me. I would say I hope love is my future, although no future is guaranteed.
And I would say love is my present, and while the present is brief, it is what holds my heart up the strongest. Love is here, right now.
And I was put here for love, and I survived this for love, and I will live this day fully, for love.
Dear Elana,
I have waited with many quiet prayers for you and a complete recovery since you began your days with cancer, with the horrible treatments, the worst side effects and the widespread effect on your entire life at the time and for all these years. It is with great joy I have now read of your days recently with a dream of travel, a dream of seeing your brother marry and the miracle of love in all it’s magical surprises finding you with another who loves you for you. It’s so long since December 2013, when I read your first blog entry and now have no idea how I ‘met’ you online. I wrote to you then, sent you a personal card to your parent’s address when you had to leave your own home and began a more than challenging few years. My sorrow over the renewal of chemotherapy, your wondering if it was going to work and whether this last round of chemo was going to be worth the lost of your health again. Turns out without your knowing, the love of your life when you have emerged from a darkness was waiting. Even he didn’t know he was waiting. Yet here you are in the photograph with a great love and with the heart willing to accept the love. I am so very happy for you and ‘him.’ As a former nurse, former cancer patient myself (41 years this year a survivor) I do know of the symbolism of feeling your body is once again healthy, free of ‘the enemy.’ Your sense of gratitude of arriving at the place you are in today will remain with you as you go forward in your life’s journey. This part of the path, you’ll not be alone. There will be a hand in yours. My heartfelt blessings to you and your new, wonderful loving man. I’ll keep you in my heart and mind as I have done since you first began your ‘fight’ against such an enemy. Guess what? You won and won so well. Hugs and love to you. xx
Elena, I have followed your story since meeting you at WDS years ago. There have been tears of sadness after reading of your travails and how profoundly you word them. This time, there were tears again… of joy. I am so moved by your story and how it will help others. You are a role model, and I thank you for sharing your life from a point of truth, brilliance, and grace. I am very happy for you.
So very very happy for you Elana. Thank you for sharing. The courage you showed ; the endurance of mind and soul while I’ll was a lesson to be learned. You both make a beautiful couple. Muchas felicidades ahora y siempre.
Adriana
You go girl!! Love present is love forever.
Truly beautiful. And I am one of those people that felt honored to be let into your journey through your blog series and the time between the blogs I would often find myself waiting in anticipation for the next….hoping you were finding your way towards some kind of shoreline.
Much love. Congrats on ending chemo. Rock on Elena. Rock on.
You look serene at last… You almost made me cry, because I believe this is a kind of conclusion we all need to see.
Now may be the time to change the picture of you that is on this blog! Give us the new Elena to see!
Have a long, healthy and happy life with your family!
As I am French, if you think a French version of your cancer guide could help others, I could translate it. Just tell me if you are interested !
ô Elana
i’am happy for you
Sara
Wow, just wow. You exude hope under so many circumstances. I just want to thank you so very much for sharing your life! I’m excited for your present and future!
Dear Elana,
Your post made me cry. I had been quite worried because of your “silence” these last months. My partner unfortunately did not survive cancer and passed away in January. So reading that you finally got rid of this awful sickness and that you not only survived, but recovered totally and now are starting a brand new life and a brand new love, makes me truly happy for you.
I have been following up on all your posts throughout this terrible moments in your life and sometimes I sent you messages, trying to encourage you. I am now so truly happy to receive such good news!
I wish you all the best for the future. You certainly deserve it so much! Be happy, love, dance, and I wish you also 2 beautiful children, boy and girl, as planned !
I also hope you will go on writing as you do it so beautifully and so encouragingly.
Over these last years, you have been for me and still are a light on the path, helping me to go through my own life and I thank you very sincerely for this.
All my best to you and congratulations on your new life.
Helene
Dear Elana,
Your beautiful post made me cry. I had been quite worried because of your “silence” these last months. My partner unfortunately did not survive cancer and passed away in January. So reading that you finally got rid of this awful sickness and that you not only survived, but recovered totally and now are starting a brand new life and a brand new love, makes me truly happy for you.
I have been following up on all your posts throughout this terrible moments in your life and sometimes I sent you messages, trying to encourage you. I am now so truly happy to receive such good news!
I wish you all the best for the future. You certainly deserve it so much! Be happy, love, dance, and I wish you also 2 beautiful children, boy and girl, as planned !
I also hope you will go on writing as you do it so beautifully and so encouragingly.
Over these last years, you have been for me and still are a light on the path, helping me to go through my own life and I thank you very sincerely for this.
All my best to you and congratulations on your new life.
Helene
My heart is over whelmed with joy for you when you first started your journey with cancer my husband was going through chemo I wept when I read your words as my husband never revealed his thoughts . He would say to me I do not want any ribbons or balloons bought in my name. He now is per scan clear and says often his cancer was a reset for his life.
You have always been in my thoughts and I thank you for sharing your story
Dearest Elana – what a gift to see you healthy in mind, body and spirit. And what a gift you have been and continue to be to me. Our cancer journeys overlapped, and while my treatment was relatively short, my emotional healing is taking longer. I’ve been crippled by betrayal and been living too long under its shadow. Recent events that remind me of who I really am are helping tremendously as I claw my way back to the light. And here you are, radiating light out to the world. God bless you. Thank you.
… But if I could only spell my name right. 😉
Dear Elena,
After your long silence that worried me, I eagerly read your email. Thank-you for sharing. I wish you and yours a long, happy life together. I am relieved and so happy for you!
Elena, I am so thrilled for you. I am glad too that you went to a psychic and got the good news that there would be a great light after so much darkness. Long before I became a cancer patient, I too was told by more than one psychic that I would indeed become a mother. A girl and boy just like you. A girl followed by a baby boy through adoption came as if dropped by heaven. Now I’m living very well with what is called terminal cancer. Because of my children, I am mother to a kitten, my last child for sure, but a reason to live joyfully and with hope that I will be able to mother her, Violet, for a long time to come. I an a statistical outlier. Today, I am meeting with the head of volunteer services because I want to give back to the hospital where within its walls I have found a home of sorts, a great doctor and other personnel whom I’ve come to care about. I wish you love and the joy of those two babies who are waiting for just the right time to make you a mother.
Awe so happy you have found a sense of peace, love and are finished with chemo. Blessings your way !
This post put me in an awesome mood this morning Elana! I am sincerely so happy for you and I thank you for all the hope and faith that you have given your readers by sharing this very personal story. God Bless you. Silvana
Hi Elana, I have been keeping up with your blog and I was so happy to see this last entry. You deserve every second! Sending much love and happiness to you from PA.
Tracy
I am in tears. Tears of joy, tears of love for you and for surviving all you have endured. Tears for someone I have never met but for someone who I have loved and admired from afar for pushing through, for never stopping even when you wanted to give up. I hope you turn your blog into a book for others. A book that will give hope to others who are beginning the journey or who are suffering through the journey or who can celebrate with you at the end of their journey. Much love, peace, happiness – and a little boy and a little girl – to you.
Wishing you a happy, healthy wonderful life Elana. You look radiant in your picture. Thank you of sharing your story; the good, the bad, the ugly, and the heartfelt moments.
So happy for you! It has been truly inspiring reading your story. Thank you. Kelly
Elana, Love IS the Present. What a blessing. Thank you for the inspiration you have given all of us through this long journey. Revel in this and the blessed moments ahead.
Your post makes my heart sing. Congratulations on completing treatment, but more importantly congratulations on living and letting love set the tone for your life.
God Bless you and those you love.
I have followed you from the beginning of your journey and I am more than thrilled to read this final (?) installment. You look so happy together, and you make a perfect couple. May God grant the two of you a long and happy life.
Congrats on finishing your treatments! May you have a long life filled with happiness.
I cannot write much…..I am crying tears of Joy for you and for
the many surviving cancer including my 40 year old son.
Blessings to you, Elana.
I’ve followed your story since December 2013, and can’t tell you how much joy this post has given me. Your ability to so publicly share your very private and personal experience of cancer was remarkable, and I think all of us who have read your words feel as though it was a privilege to go through some small part of it with you. You were able to share your humanity with us, and I know that it drew me in in a very real way. All of us are deserving of love, but it is particularly moving to see someone who has triumphed over darkness find it in spades. May you relish each and every moment of it.
What a beautiful story!!! So happy for you. I’ve been reading your blogs since your diagnosis. My 11 year old was diagnosed with liver cancer shortly before I read your first blog about cancer. He’s also in remission and try to instill this kind of hope and love in him every day. You’re an amazing woman and I’m so happy you found an amazing man.
Hello Elena. I began subscribing to Zen Psychiatry in December of 2013. Reading your post today filled my heart with joy and peace and excitement. I think of you and your journey often. Your newsletter helped me through some of the most difficult times during my divorce and the years of getting used to living only half time with my son who was only 13 at the time. Your perspective helped pull me from sinking into despair to grounding, fighting for myself, using my mind to its fullest capacity, and compassion. Thank you. This spring I met a wonderful man through the endorsement of a mutual dear friend. Our relationship is all that I had thought a relationship should be. I had given up looking for that, and he showed up. After all of the challenge and practice and lessons of the past 3 years, my life is unfolding in the most amazing ways. I wish you and your love much happiness, peace, contentment, adventure, and so much love. Thank you for sharing your journey with me.
I’ve read each of your posts. I’ve cried with you. I’ve worried about you. I am a two-time survivor (thyroid and melanoma) and I was always hopeful and anxious to read your next post. Seeing you so in love and happy fills my heart more than I can say.
Thank you for letting us share this joy!
Here’s to a lifetime of love and laughter–hugs!
Such joy! Congratulations! Thank you for saying that not all things happen for a reason but we can learn from all things that happen. I thought I was the only one with that view.
Please continue with the posts of the future…your husband and your little boy and girl!
What a ride! So happy for you!
So happy for you and the love of your life. I have followed you since the beginning of your posts and was getting concerned with the lapse in your communication. Being an Oncology Nurse for greater than 20 years I witness the highest of highs and the deepest of lows with my precious clients. Blessings to you and an awesome new beginning.
Oh Elana! I am so happy for you. Just the other day I sent you a message wondering about how you were. I’ve been subscribed to zenpsychiatry since before your illness. I am so so so delighted that you gave this news to us today. My wish for you is a deep satisfying happiness to come along with your love, and a few children as well. I hope to continue hearing from you through this blog.
All my best to you,
Suzanne
Good morning, Elana!
You look so healthy and pretty, my dear. Best wishes with your new beau. I hope you get back to your medical career soon. Your future patients can learn from you!
Joy to you,
Melanie
I loved every word of this post. It makes my heart happy to know you are finally on the other side of this horrible disease and are happy and content. You deserve every second of happiness and love. Please keep posting so we know you are doing great!!
We are way overjoyed for you and yours, Elna. It’s clear that you know exactly how this goes on and gets better and better. Only your journey could have brought you to this clarity, wisdom and energy to live on in (pretty much) all knowing. Or at least all you need to know. Thank you so much,
v
Oh, I can’t even explain what I am feeling for you. Utter joy might be the best description. I have followed your blog from the beginning and thought you have been so brave to share the things you have shared.
I wish you so much joy and happiness.
Dear Dr. Miller,
This particular email from you brought tears to my eyes…I feel as if I have shared my own journey with you. So often , I would read your emails and feel so totally drained and pained for you. Of course, I was only an observer but you swept us up on this voyage that you have taken in these past years and it is so totally amazing that you have come out the other end. And yes, sometimes I have heard people say that they see their cancer as a blessing. Maybe in some small way you can see that it brought you to this place in life that you would not have been to otherwise….although an easier trip would have been nicer! LOL
I do hope I will hear from you in the future. Want to hear how things go….marriage, kids????? What about your school and career. Know that was put on hold a bit.
I wish you just wonderful things in this New Year for you!!!
I’ve followed your story since the beginning, as I was diagnosed with lymphoma around the same time. I, too, was worried about the lack of recent posts, but I’m thrilled to read that you got the happy ending everyone deserves. All the best to you as you prepare to walk off into the sunrise and live your life.
Dear Elana,
One of the hardest things to do is to face adversity with grace. You are an inspiration. I hope you live a long mostly happy life, and that cancer is in your rear view mirror! Thank you for sharing your hopes and struggles, your joy and pain,
Dear Elana,
It feels like you’ve come full circle, although not without going through hell and back. That picture says it all – you look radiant, happy, and something else. Wisdom, probably. The knowledge that there’s only today and nothing else is guaranteed. Make the lost of it you beautiful creature. You surely deserve it.
Fondly,
Barb in Minnesota
What a great start for a new chapter! 🙂
I am so happy for you. You really are an inspiration! Thank you so much for taking us with you on your journey. I’m sending you lots of love from Germany!
Great news. So ecstatically happy for you! Enjoy.
Hi Elana,
I am so, so happy for you! You deserve great happiness and relief from the pain you’ve been through in the past three years. It’s amazing to see you so peaceful with your man. Thank you for sharing your story with all of us!
I am not battling cancer, but you’ve given me hope that I can overcome challenges that I have seen as too big for me. You’ve given me hope and inspiration. Thank you!
Be well. You are truly amazing.
Love,
Marieta
Elana,
I am overjoyed to read this post and to see that through all the pain, frustration and anguish this dreadful disease put you through you overcame. You have always been in my thoughts and prayers since I read your first post. My heart is full of joy for you for finding love and most especially for your body being cancer free.
Take care and know that you are always thought of.
XxX.
Elana
I wish you continued love and health. Thank you for sharing all of it!!!
Waited to read this latest post ’til I knew I’d have the time to thoroughly consider every statement and thought and paragraph. So happy and relieved that your chemo regimen is over – you’ve emerged, as many of us survivors do, stronger and deeper from the journey. Blessings to you, now and for the future. 🙂
As a fellow cancer survivor, I am inspired by your story and so glad you are gifted to tell your story to others about how your unique love may have been kindled on the basis of your cancer experience. It may not be a “why” but it is meaningful.
I was sharing with someone today how I still hold your webinar from (?2) years ago – hoping you will consider holding more of those, and returned to your blog to see this post. My accolades all sound trite in comparison to your words. So I will just say – congratulations on finishing chemo, and may joy find you daily –
Such a beautiful story and you’re so eloquent with words. Have you ever thought of writing a book? 🙂
Your post made me cry. I’m so grateful that you are willing to put yourself out there the way that you do. I get a different perspective on my own journey AND I get to delight in the highs of yours and empathise with the lows, especially with having experienced commonalities in both. One of the things that has always impacted me in my life is people and their stories. Yours isn’t just a story. It’s a lesson in life. A reminder that it can be messy and a testament that overcoming the shit is part of the journey.
Cheryl
YES!!!!!
Thank you for everything – for the whole story. I have followed you for a while. And I am so happy for you. LOVE – yes!!!!!
Beautiful…
“Love and self are one, the discovery of either is the realization of both”
Wow, Elana, you are such an inspiration, and I’m so happy to hear that you’ve found love in your life. Thank you for putting your voice out into the world and for giving hope to so many. I still remember reading your first post getting cancer, and to see where you are, now, is incredible. Thank you, again.
Elana, this is so beautiful. Hope to hear from you soon. My sister is also in remission from stage 4, and life is different but so precious. Wishing you well.
Big Warm {{{Hugs}}} now go enjoy your lovely Life * you deserve it * <3
Just re-read your last writing above. I’d commented first after reading it on October 5th. I was just thinking of you wondering how you are doing. Noticed you are not on Twitter now and I am assuming you are busy with your life as a cancer-free survivor. I hope you are well and looking forward to a wonderful Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter for many years to come. Not sure if you’ll be reading this or not. But if you do, you can send me a little email or comment on Twitter, as would love to know all is going superbly for you and your lovely man. Namasté
I read your story with broken heart, years ago, and when this latest episode showed up in my newsfeed I eagerly opened the post wanting desperately to see love for you- because it’s hopefulness I have for us all on treacherous paths. What an amazingly beautiful story of ethereal connection. My heart is full for you. And your love.
I am truly happy for you. To have found a great love during these times is very special. You have suffered greatly but you have been given the gift of love. You were taken care of my parents and now a loving husband. There are many cancer patients that do not have this support system. My heart goes out to each and every one of them. None of us know what life has to bring but you are right with love the ordinary becomes extraordinary. I wish you the best