Many of us have heard of post-traumatic stress - but what about post-traumatic growth? Alice-May Purkiss explores her spiritual growth after she was diagnosed with and treated for breast cancer at 26.
It was a few years after my cancer treatment that I first heard the expression “post-traumatic growth” (PTG). Until then, I’d never acknowledged that my breast cancer diagnosis at 26 had been a traumatic experience for me.
Trauma was something that happened to other people. As far as I was concerned, post-traumatic stress disorder was something that war veterans or victims of violent crimes lived with. It didn’t apply to me as a young woman who had nightmares about cancer treatments and cried over surgical scenes on TV.
Over time, I came to accept that cancer was a trauma.
I began to realize that the experience of hearing the words, “You have cancer,” combined with the 30+ forms of treatment I had over the following three years, had left me traumatized.
Ironically, if the same experience applied to someone else, I’d be the first to say, “Well, of course you’re traumatized!”
Yet, it took me a long time to admit I’d been damaged by my experience with cancer.
It was my friend, Sophie, who first talked to me about post-traumatic growth.
Many of us are familiar with the condition post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). PTG, on the other hand, is a theory developed in the mid-90s. It suggests that individuals who’ve been through a traumatic event can often experience positive personal growth in the aftermath.
Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun, who developed the theory, went on to create the Post-Traumatic Growth Index (PTGI). The PTGI is a 21-item scale used to evaluate the personal growth that follows a stressful encounter. Items are grouped into five categories:
Participants are asked if their attitudes have changed toward things like their priorities in life, spirituality, and compassion levels.
I am the first to say there is too much pressure on those who have had a cancer diagnosis to be grateful all the time. We shouldn’t jump to the conclusion that growth happens after every trauma or that it happens to every person who experiences trauma. But I’ve seen how much I’ve changed and grown in the years since my diagnosis.
It sounds cliché to say it, but I am not the person I was before I was diagnosed.
Some of that may have to do with age – I’m in my thirties now, and I realize how young I was at 26. I still had lots to learn about being a human! I’m still young with lots to learn, but I do feel like cancer has allowed me to grow and expand in ways I never expected.
My priorities have shifted dramatically. I have always been very much of the “work to live” mentality, but that notion is now embedded into my DNA. I won’t work long hours anymore or get hung up on the idea of getting promoted.
That’s not to say there’s a fault in doing those things, but I’ve had suspicions that those things weren’t for me, which my brush with cancer confirmed. I’m not sure I will ever return to working a 40-hour week. Nor will I earn vast amounts of money (probably, as the two are likely related), but that’s okay. I’m happy to be where I am.
I’m also far more spiritual than I ever used to be. This certainly surprised the friends and family who’ve known me for a long time! I’m not going to church every week, but I have more certainty about where spirituality fits into my life. I believe in something bigger (whether that’s a God or a Creator or The Universe) in a way I never used to.
There are so many other places where I’ve seen growth, too. My belief in compassion as a base-level requirement for life has swollen hugely. My life has shifted onto an entirely new path. I never imagined I would become a trustee of a national charity, nor did I think I’d be creating artwork around my cancer experiences. Nowadays, these two things have an enormous, positive impact on my life.
I still struggle with my mental health post-cancer, but I still appreciate pretty much every day the sun rises. If something isn’t right, I’m more likely to change it than I ever would have been before my diagnosis.
And it’s not just me. I’ve heard these stories from so many in the wider cancer community. Sophie Sabbage, author of The Cancer Whisperer, says that getting a cancer diagnosis puts you on notice that you are not immortal.
I think that’s why many things in my life have changed. I have less time for nonsense than I used to.
Despite my own growth experience, I am always wary of being evangelical about it. I know many people are more than happy to put their experience of cancer in a box and carry on with their lives as they did before. That is okay. More than okay!
There is so much weight applied to cancer “survivors” to be a certain way and to live a particular life. In truth, there is no right or wrong way to live life with or beyond cancer.
Sometimes, I wonder if I would give back everything I’ve learned and undo all the growth, if I could also give back the experience of having a mastectomy. If I could wipe the memories of being carried to the toilet when the treatment side effects got too much. If I could erase all the crying and the heartbreak.
I don’t know what the answer is. There’s not much point in thinking about it for too long. What I do know is that there’s still so much more to learn. There’s still so much more growing to do, and I hope to be here to do it for a long time.
The information presented is solely for educational purposes, not as specific advice for the evaluation, management, or treatment of any condition.
The individual(s) who have written and created the content and whose images appear in this article have been paid by Teva Pharmaceuticals for their contributions. This content represents the opinions of the contributor and does not necessarily reflect those of Teva Pharmaceuticals. Similarly, Teva Pharmaceuticals does not review, control, influence, or endorse any content related to the contributor’s websites or social media networks. This content is intended for informational and educational purposes and should not be considered medical advice or recommendations. Consult a qualified medical professional for diagnosis and before beginning or changing any treatment regimen.
NPS-ALL-NP-01146 NOVEMBER 2023