The smell is one of the most vivid things I remember about chemo. Not the smell of the hospital, but the smell of the chemo once it hits your veins, flowing through your body and wafting up to your nose. When you sit in the chair in the infusion wing, that’s one of the first things that hits you once they push the chemo through the IV. Not to mention the nausea, fatigue and loss of appetite that hits pretty soon after. It’s been almost two years since I’ve had to sit in the infusion room, but it still feels like yesterday. Cancer is something that sticks with you, even when it’s gone. Even when you’re in remission, it still can come back to haunt you.
For Hattie Thomasson, sophomore accounting major, chemo is her current reality. Back in January, Thomasson was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins lymphoma and has taken time this semester to focus on treatment and healing rather than school and studying.
She and I were introduced to one another through the kind-hearted effort of both our academic advisors due to our mutual diagnoses, and we started messaging on Instagram, sharing our stories and getting to know one another.
What I truly learned was that her cancer journey is so different than mine was, which was not at all what I expected. Her journey is a different diagnosis, different chemo, different length of treatment, different treatment plan, different mindset and different emotional impact. I thought I would be able to teach her so much. It turns out, she would be the one to teach me a few things.
Thomasson knows the power that comes through connecting with someone with a similar story. Whether it’s her friend who has spina bifida or another cancer survivor on Instagram, Thomasson knows the connections and empathy that her soul needs. Thomasson’s relationship with her friend with spina bifida has blossomed since her cancer diagnosis.
“It has been really great getting to talk to her because she has completely different yet similar experiences where she’s been in hospitals, and she knows what it’s like to have to miss out and not get to do everything,” said Thomasson. “She’s been super supportive, and she’s really great to talk to.”
While their medical history may be different, the emotional impact is still the same. They both still miss out on hanging out with friends and have to prioritize their health above all, which is an experience that few have at such a young age.
When Thomasson sits in the hospital during infusion, she keeps her mind occupied through Netflix or TikTok and does her best to make light of the situation, while her friends keep her laughing from afar, through the blessing of technology. Having this mindset and support makes a world of difference in situations like these, and this makes dealing with the harder parts a little more bearable.
With chemo draining her energy, Thomasson hasn’t been able to read during treatment like she would prefer to. At times like this, however, Thomasson has been able to find hope in her circumstances.
“I don’t understand how people who have no faith could go through this,” said Thomasson, repeating something her mother said during the diagnosis process. “The outlook on it is so different when you have a relationship with God.”
Thomasson, as a person of faith, has been able to lean on the Lord throughout this situation, even amidst the whirlwind that this pandemic has been. Since Thomasson is in active treatment, her immune system leaves her at a higher risk, and she is more susceptible to any type of infection. Thomasson reflected that it’s been a rollercoaster of emotions dealing with the extra precautions that she must take. In some sense though, she was already prepared for this outbreak.
“As far as quarantining, I was already doing that before, so it’s kind of not as big of a deal,” said Thomasson.
Social isolation is a part of dealing with cancer; you avoid large crowds and stay away from sick people that could infect you. In some sense, the general population is getting a taste of what life in treatment is like for people who have been there.
For Thomasson, thankfully this chapter is coming to a close very soon, with her last chemo scheduled for Thursday, April 30.
Watching her go through this and hearing what it has been like has been vastly different from my own cancer journey. I can’t imagine being in active treatment at a time like this, yet Thomasson seems so cool and collected.
These days, people keep talking about living a “new normal,” which is a phrase commonly used in the cancer community. Your life changes forever once you have that diagnosis, and you’re marked for life, even if cancer never rears its ugly head again. You still have scans and checkups years down the road, and you become very familiar with your oncologist.
Watching Thomasson live her new normal, I could tell you all of the stereotypical words I could use to describe her: brave, fearless, strong. But Thomasson is more than that. She is a beacon of hope. She keeps her eyes on the Lord when things seem hopeless and keeps living life, even with the smell of chemo wafting up to her nose in the hospital.
I can still smell the chemo. I can still feel the needle in my port, and I can still feel my hair falling out in clumps. I’m still healing from my own cancer journey, and seeing Thomasson live her journey is helping me do just that: heal. I have been amazed at her faith and her perseverance, at a time in this journey that I was burnt out and afraid. And Thomasson, instead of looking to the past, has set her eyes on the future.
Photo submitted by Hattie Thomasson
What a heartfelt message of faith, friendship, and hope for the future! May you both continue on life’s journey never forgetting how God has used you for His glory.