The 8 things breast cancer taught me about happiness

Last September, to my immense shock, I was diagnosed with a highly aggressive form of breast cancer. My right breast was riddled with 11cm of fast-growing tumours and the cancer had already infected the lymph nodes under my arm.

My first reactions were panic, terror and despair. I was convinced my cancer had metastasized to my liver, bones, lungs or brain, and that I would die, leaving my husband and teenage children behind.

For the worst two weeks of my life I waited for the results of tests while looking for signs that my cancer had spread. Miraculously, it had not. This meant I could be cured, and my doctors were optimistic.

My treatment has, so far, included eight cycles of chemotherapy with six different drugs, a double mastectomy and reconstruction with implants, removal of nine lymph nodes, injections of drugs to target any remaining cancer cells circulating in my body, plus 15 sessions of daily radiotherapy. I’m not done yet.

But, thanks to my amazing NHS medical team and the work of brilliant scientists, it has all proved astonishingly successful. By the time I had my mastectomies on March 9, there were no detectable, living cancer cells in my body. While this doesn’t mean my cancer can’t come back, it dramatically reduces the risk.

It’s been a bumpy ride. I’m physically scarred, almost a stone heavier thanks to pre-chemo steroids and, frankly, exhausted. But for all that other people insist that I must be “devastated” and “traumatised”, I’m not.

Neither do I feel damaged or broken. In fact, I’ve felt positively Pollyanna-ish pretty much from the day I discovered my cancer was treatable. I’m more optimistic, more patient, and in many ways my life is better than it was before I was diagnosed. The secret? I’ve learned a lot about what happiness is and how to bring more of it into my life.

I haven’t always succeeded in managing my emotions perfectly – there were a couple of spectacular meltdowns when I let myself get too stressed – but I’ve learned from them.

I don’t recommend developing a highly aggressive cancer to discover this benefit – and I need to point out that a sunny disposition doesn’t prevent cancer or make treatment more successful. But it does make my day-to-day life more enjoyable. These are the eight lessons of happiness that cancer has taught me. Some of them may work for you. And the good news is that you don’t have to have a life-threatening disease to try them.

I’ve learned what really makes me happy

You’d think that by the age of 58 I’d already know what made me feel good, wouldn’t you? After all, what kind of idiot gets to mid-life without knowing exactly what food, books, art, films and pastimes they really like? Well, me, for a start. To keep my demons at bay, I resolved to pay more attention to how I really felt during my daily activities. I found out that I often relied on habit, outdated ideas of myself, convenience, guilt or obligation to guide my daily choices.

Examples? I’d often make myself a green smoothie for breakfast because it was “healthy”. But did I enjoy it? No, not really. Good marmalade and butter on sourdough toast with a cup of very hot tea? That’s a completely different matter. Starting my day with this – to me – intensely pleasurable breakfast was an early and easy happiness win.

The key to learning what you enjoy – at any age – is to start truly paying attention to your experiences and how they make you feel.

These can be big things, for sure, like a once-in-a-lifetime holiday. But my experience suggests that it’s the culmination of small pleasures that most often add up to a happier life. If you’d asked me before all this started, I’d have said my favourite form of art was French impressionism. When I visited the Louvre as a teenager, these sun-blurred images blew me away. But during my treatment, I started a habit of visiting galleries with my teenage daughter. To my surprise, we’ve gained the most satisfaction from the medieval galleries, relishing the vividly painted, recognisably human characters.

Other peak joys include Fortnum’s perfume department, and walking my dog through the park and really paying attention to the change of seasons – I found I looked forward to wisteria blooming like a child looks forward to Christmas. I made appointments to listen to The Archers Omnibus and wore lipstick every day. When you try new things – or return to old pleasures – truly pay attention to how you feel.

I’ve curated – and prioritised – my social life

For 84 years, Harvard University in the US has been running its Study of Adult Development, looking for the clues to leading healthy and happy lives.

And what researchers found was that close relationships, more than money or fame, are what make people happy. They are better predictors of long and happy lives than class, IQ, genes or your cholesterol levels.

The first people I talked to about my diagnosis, after my husband, were my two oldest friends. Then I told a close group of friends on a WhatsApp group. I can honestly say that these friends – and others – have made everything a million times better. They have taken me for lunch and to the theatre, sent me flowers, vouchers for treats such as takeaways … And they have made me laugh every day. So, even when I’ve been tired or mired in treatment, I have tried to make time to see or speak to them, even if just for a snatched coffee or to exchange amusing texts about everything from our dogs to the Rooney/Vardy libel case.

Also, my kids have dazzled me with their ability to cope with my news. Teenagers get bad press, but they can be the best company. They are funny, passionate and often see the world in a refreshingly different way.

I haven’t always been around as much as I’d have liked, but cancer has given me a much greater appreciation for the people I love. I’m grateful for it.

I can push away unhelpful emotions

A stiff upper lip sounds dreadfully old-fashioned. So does a “keep calm and carry on” attitude. Repressing your feelings is considered terribly harmful. However, the same team at Harvard found that “self-regulation involves suppressing negative emotions such as self-hatred, refocusing on the positive aspects of yourself and reframing negative situations so that you see the opportunities in them”. I didn’t know this while going through treatment, but I instinctively found that I felt better when, instead of allowing myself to be helplessly overwhelmed by unhelpful feelings, I took an interested yet detached view of my emotions.

If I noticed I was becoming morbid or angry, I made a deliberate attempt to change course. Instead of thinking about, say, a one in 10 risk of dying, I’d focus on the nine out of 10 chance of living to a ripe old age. Another session in the chemo chair became another glorious opportunity to knock cancer on the head, plus a chance for a gossip with the woman in the next bay over a cup of tea.

It’s not always possible or healthy to avoid sadness or worry, but the more I kept a kindly but dispassionate eye on my emotions, and reframed my situation as positive, the less overwhelmed I felt and the faster these emotions dissipated.

Don’t let stress spill over

I’d always considered having a stressful life as part of my identity. “How are you?” people would ask. “Oh, you know, busy, busy!” Work deadlines, projects around the house and some tricky caring responsibilities all added up to my feeling tense a lot of the time. But when cancer arrived in my life, I knew I simply had to reduce my background stress otherwise I’d be pushed over the edge, mentally. I described it to friends as feeling like a glass that’s full of water to the very brim. Everything is fine until another drop hits the glass, and then there’s water everywhere. So, if I can’t immediately ditch some of the water by adding de-stressing activities, such as doing yoga, or meeting a friend, then I have to be careful to prevent the drip-drip of stress. In the end, managing stress is a bit like decluttering your underwear drawer.

I stopped worrying so much about what my house looked like, learned to say no without guilt, handed over the cooking to my lovely husband and deleted texts and emails that demanded too much information.

Tip: If you regularly accept invitations or agree to obligations to please others, yet find they leave you stressed, drained or resentful, it’s time to stop, or at least ration them. Cancer taught me to be selfish, and I’m a better person for it.

Plan for joy

Living in the present is great, but anticipation, in my experience, is even better. I’d often plan and book future treats while hooked up to the chemo drip. It might be an exhibition, a trip to The Nutcracker at Christmas, or a visit to see a friend’s new kitten. Not only was the thought of a series of future pleasures a joy, each one helped distract me both from the multitude of less enjoyable appointments filling my diary and from any doomy thoughts of five or 10-year survival statistics.

I’ve also tried to celebrate each good medical result and punctuate the end of a phase of treatment with something special. The end of radiotherapy last week was marked by a tapas lunch with my husband, a trip to the beach and booking lunch and shopping with a friend. I’m currently planning a spa trip to restore my battered body.

Mustn’t grumble

Complaining is a toxic habit. I never really noticed before I got cancer how much people grumble. A few drops of rain or a cold are treated like a catastrophe. You wait a few minutes for the waiter to bring you a menu? Disaster!

Social media intensifies this habit. I’ve even seen people moan about the inconvenience of decorating their second home. Gratitude gets a bad rap – and I can see why the commercialisation of gratitude via journals and apps puts people off.

But what about good old-fashioned counting your blessings? Every single morning, I wake up grateful to live in a country where I get state of the art cancer treatment. I am grateful for a safe home, for being alive, for sunshine and even for rain. Oh, and don’t sweat the small stuff. When you have cancer, you realise it’s nearly all small stuff.

Communicate more clearly

On a day out with my husband I often used to say things like “that pub looks nice” and be cross and miserable that he’d agree – yet drive straight past. Or I might ask if he was hoping to see a certain film, and be upset when he said no.

He did not realise what I really meant was “I’d very much like to stop and have lunch/a drink at that pub now” or “I’d really like to see this film with you tomorrow”. I’m not sure why I felt that it was better to be tentative and oblique rather than straightforward, but I can tell you that it isn’t. In fact, it can come over as manipulative. Having the confidence and optimism to say what you want doesn’t mean that other people will always agree to it, but it does make it more likely. Cancer tells you to live in the present and stop worrying so much about how other people might feel.

Upgrade your lifestyle

We all know what we should be doing to be healthier, don’t we? Move more, eat better and sleep well. How utterly dull! Except, when you actually do these things, not only are they not boring, but they make you feel amazing.

I’m not suggesting that a healthier lifestyle is a guarantee against cancer. In most cases, a nasty diagnosis like mine is simple bad luck. However, a growing body of evidence shows that exercise can help prevent cancer, reduce side effects from treatment and even stop it recurring. But perhaps even more importantly, if you want to be happier, then adopting a healthier way of life is an easy win.

Before I was diagnosed with cancer, I had fallen back in love with exercise. But after my diagnosis exercise became essential for managing my moods. At a time when every tiny twinge left me terrified that my cancer had spread, the predictable sensations of muscles flexing and stretching were wonderfully reassuring. I was proud of getting stronger despite my cancer and I’m convinced that I have struggled less with treatment because of my daily classes.

Prioritising sleep over Netflix meant I woke up with more energy and optimism. I paid attention to my gut health too, eating delicious vegetables, fruit, nuts, fish and extra virgin olive oil and guzzling kefir. That’s not to say that I am a puritan. I still drink wine and eat chips and chocolate, but I know when I live better, I feel better.