05/02/2026
When catastrophes hit you, it’s difficult to stay positive. One of the hardest, but most effective ways to do that is to accept that things have changed.
ACCEPT YOUR SITUATION
This is the toughest of all things to do. I get it. You wonder why this awful thing has happened to you. Was it something you did? Could you have avoided it? You’re angry. You’re frightened. All you want to do is cry. You aren’t sure how you can go on. How will your family cope?
This is an intensely personal story of how I coped when I realised I had leukaemia. I hadn’t even had a diagnosis yet. I’d had a series of infections, which my doctor wouldn’t take seriously. But after seeing a different doctor, I’d had blood tests taken, and at 9.30 that night I got a call from her telling me I needed to see a haematologist and asking whether I had a preference. I said I didn’t know any, so was happy for her to choose one.
In Australia, doctors rarely call you after hours unless it’s serious. And I knew my immune system wasn’t working properly. She confirmed that my white blood count was ‘extremely low’. Actually, it was non-existent. I was stunned. I just knew it was leukaemia.
Getting ready for bed, I didn’t tell my husband of my fears. I thought he’d think I was being over-dramatic. I tried to pretend everything was all right. But inside, I was churning.
Initially, I went through all of those emotions I outlined above. I had my funeral planned and mentally drafted a farewell letter to my husband. How would he manage without me? We’d only been married 19 months. How could I tell him I might die? I imagined what chemo would be like and the horrors that awaited me. It was totally terrifying.
For 3 hours, I cried until my pillow was sopping wet. At 2 am, I realised I was due at work the following morning and would need to get up in 4 hours. I needed some sleep.
Then, I realised that if I had leukaemia, no amount of crying, thinking how unfair it was, worrying or misery was going to make it go away. I didn’t want to be unhappy. It was what it was (or wasn’t). I’d be much better off putting my energy into coping strategies. Take one day at a time. Whatever life flung at me, if I could cope with what happened that day, I’d be all right.
I’m not a Buddhist, but their attitude to life intrigues me. Their philosophy is that change is a constant part of life, and resisting that change is the source of much suffering. They advocate embracing the present moment, even when it’s difficult.
I’m not suggesting you passively accept things you can change. If you can take a course of action to avoid a bad thing happening to you, of course you should do that. But if change is inevitable, better to accept it and work on coping with it.
There will be grief, of course. That is a natural reaction to losing anything precious, whether it be your health, a job, or a loved one. And it’s important not to bypass it. Grief allows you to honour the value of what you’ve lost, gives you a chance to adjust to the change and create a new ‘normal’, and it allows you to process all the emotions that come with loss. But you can grieve whilst still accepting the fact that things have changed.
The next morning at work, the phone rang for me at 9.02 am. It was the haematologist, and she wanted to see me just after lunch that day. So, I knew that my diagnosis was right: it was leukaemia. The uncertainty was over.
Uncertainty is the worst part. When you don’t know what is going to happen, that is a source of fear and anxiety. The truth is, though, that reality is rarely as scary as you think it will be. Which is when the advice to take one day at a time is helpful. If you can cope with that day, you’re doing fine. Just rinse and repeat every day.
When catastrophes hit you, it’s difficult to stay positive. One of the hardest, but most effective ways to do that is to accept that things have changed.
