Linda Legendre
Transforming her role as healer
Getting Started
I was told I would need to be out of work for at least six months. All by itself that is devastating news when one is single and self-supporting. I managed with help from my family and friends, and it was convenient that this particular treatment called for a pretty slimmed down social life. I didn't need new clothes and the food bill becomes very affordable when you don't eat much. As a very independent person, I found it difficult to ask people for help. I'm grateful that in most instances help was offered to me before I had to ask.
With the creative help of many people, I found that "renaming" some of the parts of this treatment was enormously beneficial. I started calling my time out of work a sabbatical and stopped calling the chemotherapy drugs poison. It was just another opportunity to learn how to love my enemies. The idea of using symbolism and metaphors to ease the tension became very appealing. My daughter had given me a pair of leopard stiletto shoes for Christmas as a joke, and she challenged me to find some place to wear them. One week later I was diagnosed with cancer and she created a new vision for the shoes. She suggested I have myself photographed during the stages of change that occur during this treatment and always have the shoes on in the photos. The shoes would represent the personal essence that is not lost despite the loss of hair and weight and the addition of a G-tube and port-a-cath. My friend and professional photographer, Steve, loved the idea of the project and agreed to do it for me. There entered some sense of lightness. I must admit there were many moments during this cancer treatment when laughter became the better option, even when things just weren't that funny.
Just before my daughter returned to Seattle she created a healing circle with my two sisters and a few close friends. They transformed my living room with flowers, and everyone read poems of hope and connection. It was a very moving experience. They helped me change my vision of crawling down into a black hole into one of traveling through a passageway, always being aware of the light at the end.
A trip to the Friends' Boutique on the 9th floor of Dana-Farber provided a few light moments for me. I thought most people would know I was wearing a wig, so I decided to go a little wild. I had long brown hair, so I got a short blonde Marilyn Monroe wig and reclaimed the Norwegian half of my heritage. Later, I picked out a long red-haired wig, and I still use them both when I feel like being unpredictable. I mastered the scarf tricks, too, with help from my daughter and, of course, the baseball cap was a great unisex solution to what happens to hair during chemotherapy.
Next page: Chemotherapy begins
