New Normal: A Feature Story Trilogy

Marianne Chloe M. Secular

Life’s No Longer the Same

When we hear the term “New Normal,” most of us consider it as a label to describe the changes that the world is braving due to the COVID-19 pandemic, but in the oncology setting and for cancer patients like the 48 year-old mother Sheila Mae Secular, it also meant the changes that she has to go through as a result of cancer and its treatments.

In June 26, 2021, Sheila was clinically diagnosed with Cervical Cancer, a type of cancer that occurs in the cells of the cervix. When her physician uttered the words:

“You have cervical cancer”, her complexion immediately lost color; the sunshine from her face had been sucked out of it as the first thought that occurred to her was: “What about my kids?”

Physical and emotional pain, as well as activity constraints are just a few of the adjustments she has to make as her cancer defines her new normal, but those are the least of her concerns as she is more worried of how her children will process this situation and how she can continue to provide for them. It was a drastic change that she had no choice but to face. Life struck her with an upheaval she barely even expected, and it made her worry about the welfare of her children since majority of them are still in high school.

When she tried to ask for a second opinion, all three of her ob-gynes (obstetrician-gynecologist) had the same diagnosis. That’s when she finally accepted that she can no longer hope for a miracle that what she had been experiencing wasn’t a life-threatening illness like cancer. All she could do was take good care of her already vulnerable body, especially that COVID-19 could be further detrimental to her health.

It was challenging for Sheila to go to back and forth to the hospital whenever she has a check-up since there were a lot of COVID-19 health and safety protocols to follow. She had to take extra precautions because of her body’s fragile state. Aside from the hysteria she experienced due to cancer and the pandemic, costly medical expenses have also caused her frustration due to financial instability.

“I went through the stages of grief, and one time, while I was praying I asked God kung ngaa ako kag kung ano gid kadako sang sala ko para hatagan ako sang sakit nga amo sini ka hinali,” (I went through the stages of grief, and one time, while I was praying I asked God why did it have to be me and how severely did I sin for him to give me an illness this detrimental,”) said Sheila during an interview, her tears falling as she explained what she felt during times of difficulty.

That same year, before she found out she had cancer, she applied to various international health care organizations like the World Health Organization (WHO) and Hellen Keller Intl. When she went to the hospital for her regularly scheduled check-up, she received an email from one of the organizations she applied to, informing her that her application was accepted and she could start anytime.

As the days passed, all the organizations she applied to messaged her one by one, telling her that her application was accepted. She felt an ounce of joy by this news, but dismay consumed her more as her health was no longer in a condition where she could work for these great organizations due to her cancer. She felt regret, realizing that she should have taken good care of herself instead of neglecting her health.

“It’s true when people say health is wealth and prevention is better than cure. That is why every one of us has to take care of our well-being, may it be physical, mental or emotional,” shared Sheila. It was a piece of advice she failed to apply to herself, because as a health care worker, she was laser-focused on taking care of other people and helping them improve their health that she forgot to take good care of herself as well.

Change is inevitable; it’s a major part of our life we can’t fully control. But for Sheila, change doesn’t have to be a hindrance for our lives to go on. That is why we need to adapt, it may be difficult, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Sheila is striving to adjust to her new normal as she prepares herself for all the challenges she might encounter. For now, she could only hope she would be able to live long enough to witness her children grow, become successful and live a stable life.

Life is no longer the same for Sheila. Aside from the pandemic, being a cancer patient also had to become her new norm. Both of those tragic events deprived her of so many opportunities in life, but in the midst of this tragic event, she finds comfort in knowing that everything has a reason, and if her current situation is God’s will, she could only hope that what he has planned for her will successfully serve its purpose.

(August, 2021 – November, 2022)

A New Phase to Face

“Sakit gid ya. Indi ko na kaya, daw mapatay ko sa kasakit.” (It hurts. It hurts so much, I feel like I might die from the pain.)

Those words, no matter how many times I have heard them, they still never pass through my ears softly. The impact of the pain they cause is still as severe and excruciating as the first time I have heard them; it’s never healing nor is it numbing, it’s still a fresh wound.

Nothing beats louder in my head than the sound of my mother’s cries, pleading for the pain to stop as it drains the life out of her. It’s a constant, overwhelming, pulsating and deafening noise I could never silence. A sound that’s ironically playing through my mind like my favorite soundtrack on repeat, but unfortunately, I couldn’t put it on mute. The sound made my eyes bleed tears as though my ears were splintered by pieces of comfort could easily reduce the pain those brutal words inflicted, and the guilt that comes along with knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop something so detrimental from happening is worse.

It was excruciating for me to witness the suffering and hysteria my mama’s cancer had caused her. Her pleads for the pain to stop was a constant heartbreak for me. But instead of giving up, I was laser focused on taking good care of her. During the day, I would feed her, give her a bath, help her brush her teeth and remind her to take her medications at a certain time. During the night, I would stay up to watch over her in case she needs anything.

I wanted my mama to live longer. I wanted to spend more time with her. My mother’s health became my top priority among anything else, which meant I had to sacrifice passing modules on time.. Fortunately, my subject teachers were very understanding with our situation. I started spending as much time as I can with her while trying to keep up with my studies. It was extremely challenging but I was able to adapt to it.

We all have dealt with change at one point in our life. There is nothing permanent in life except change whether it is something as simple as visiting a new place or a major event like the pandemic. But whether these changes are good or bad, we eventually adapt or get through them if we have the determination to do so. As they saying goes, “When there’s a will, there’s a way.”

Aside from the pandemic, taking care of my mama who has cancer became my new normal; it was a new phase I had to face. It caused a drastic change in my life in many ways. It also made a significant impact to my growth because not only has it taught me to take care of myself, but it also taught me to not take anything for granted, especially the time we get to spend with our family or the people we love and care about.

(August, 2021 – November, 2022)

A Change to Embrace

“Please save her, I’m begging you,” I muttered in between tears and heavy breathing as I prayed to the Almighty after my mother was rushed to the hospital because she had a lot of difficulty breathing. The night she was admitted to the hospital, I got a message from my father saying that her lungs were filled with too much water and the doctors were having trouble getting it out. This happened due to her organs failing caused by her cervical cancer. And that night, I could only hope and pray for her safety.

It has been more than three years since we have been inconvenienced by COVID-19, a life-threatening virus that caused a worldwide pandemic and has altered the course of our lives. A lot of changes have surfaced that we had to embrace as we were all placed in an unfamiliar environment. A lot of events also happened that we needed to cope with, including the deaths of our loved that I could have spent more time with her, that I could have been more of the daughter she wanted me to be, that maybe I could have done something to prevent her death and prolong her life. I still wanted to have the mother who annoyed me every morning with her shrill voice; the mother who scolded me because I was too lazy to do household chores; especially the mother who never failed to show how proud she was of me. But unfortunately, it was too late.

While browsing over the photos for the wake, I realized how little time we had together. I regretted the times I didn’t document the important moments, the times I talked back and played deaf, the times I took her for granted. The photos showed the happy life of a good woman, the woman I will always remember.

The last day of the wake came and almost everyone expected me to break down. I shed a few tears, but that was it. I didn’t cry out loud, I didn’t even bargain silently with God. I just watched her disappear together with everything I believed in. I was too exhausted, too drained, to even say goodbye. No words, no matter how poignant or beautiful, could bring her back. I kept still, hoping that the tears and weeping around me were enough to drown the silence inside me.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling of seeing the remains of someone you love. Every emotion I tried to evoke couldn’t surface. The void seemed to swallow everything but the pain. Is there a word for feeling so much and nothing at all at the same time? Is there a word for the moment when you realized you had taken a huge leap of faith and landed on the dark cold ground and not the other side? Are there words for these moments, for those feelings? Well, if there are, then they are still not enough.

I turned my gaze to the mourners at my mother’s funeral and I couldn’t help but think about their lives after that moment: They would go home to their families and realize that nothing has changed. They would return to their daily routines, sympathizing with but not really giving much thought about the family who lost everything that day.

I’ve seen many movies featuring bereaved families. I’ve watched how the children grieved but managed to move on. But unlike movies, I couldn’t skip the time following her death. I couldn’t just say “10 years later” or even “six months later.” I had to live each passing day, unsure what tomorrow would bring. I knew she didn’t want me to suffer the loss of her, but knowing that she’s no longer around for birthdays, graduations or holidays was excruciating. It was truly heart-breaking to realize how much we have outlived her.

But here I am a year later. I’m not sure how I got here. I moved on without exactly knowing when and how. It’s like falling asleep: You close your eyes, feel time as it passes by you and you wait. Eventually, you doze off. That’s what happened. I just woke up one day and realized it doesn’t hurt like it used to. I don’t know what day or what month it was when I finally accepted that she was not coming back. There are days when I feel guilty for feeling okay, but despite everything I’m grateful because she held on and waited until I was strong enough, until I was ready to