Moving Forward After Follicular Lymphoma With a New Companion

One of the supports that got me through treatment for follicular lymphoma (a form of blood cancer) was my dog. I was diagnosed in July 2020, smack in the middle of the pandemic, and suddenly, in addition to all the pandemic restrictions, I was receiving chemotherapy and immunotherapy that suppressed my immune system. I lived alone, and I saw very few people in person for the six months of treatment, and my dog was my primary source of companionship. She died a few years ago, of old age; it’s not every 70-pound dog who lives to 16, and I was grateful for every day I had with her. She got me through both a pandemic that physically isolated me from everyone around me, and simultaneously through cancer treatment that occurred during the pandemic, from July 2020 to December 2020. I don’t know what I would have done without her during that time; I had almost no in-person contact with anyone else, and I don’t know that I could have made it without her.

Life moves on, and there were things to do as I moved further from treatment. I took a trip to India with friends, something I had put off for years because I simply couldn’t leave my geriatric dog with a pet sitter for that long. I had my house renovated, a process that extended over a year beyond the contractor’s estimate — a long story that, like the renovation, isn’t really finished yet, and may not be for some time. But the house is livable, if not finished, even with much of my belongings still in the basement, waiting for me to move them upstairs, now that most of the living space is finished. And finally — finally — I reached a point where I was ready to adopt a new dog. A couple of weeks ago, I started looking through shelters, and I found a wonderful year-old terrier mix, who has been taking over my house ever since.

My shelter dog is wonderful. She’s brought love, light, and laughter. I tried putting her in a crate, and she broke out of it — a wonderful analogy for not accepting the common beliefs about cancer, or any other chronic illness. She chews up weird things; the evening she broke out of her crate, she destroyed a roll of toilet paper that she found on the bathroom counter; I came home to be greeted by a dog at my door (quite a shock, when I’d left her in a crate) and shredded toilet paper all over the house.

So many people with cancer — even cancer in remission — are afraid to live their lives, are afraid to make plans that involve the future, because the cancer might return. I get it. I have that same problem myself. But I’m tired of living in fear, and I’m tired of not making plans. I adopted a dog — and yes, I’ve made sure that if something happens to me, she’ll be taken care of, but at 59, single, with no kids, I will need to do that even without cancer — and I’m making plans for my future. It’s time to move on from that single focus. If the follicular lymphoma comes back — or if another cancer rears its ugly head — so be it. But I need to move on.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to subscribe to CURE®’s newsletters here.