Bouncing Back Higher Than Ever

My memory is foggy as to exactly when I began to lose control of life. But I think it was September 2023, when my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. What first manifested as shortness of breath and mild discomfort quickly progressed to debilitating pain and sleepless nights. He and my mom had moved to Las Vegas, so visiting required planning, and at the time, I had no idea how serious his condition was. Externally, I may have seemed OK, but internally, I was slowly unraveling. I could only pretend everything was business as usual for so long, until it began affecting my physical and mental well-being.

Onward I pressed, sinking deeper into work. There were weeks I clocked more than 60 hours just to distract myself from thinking about Dad. Any form of happiness quickly dissipated. Writing ceased to have meaning. Burnout was imminent.

By December, I was emotionally drained and desperately needed to pause all social activity, which had been my only source of joy. I took a break from social media too. I felt defeated and numb as the days passed. I flew to Vegas to spend the holidays with my folks, but nothing could prepare me for the news I received as we left the airport. Dad’s cancer was Stage 4, and he had lost all independence. My mom, his full-time caregiver, was desperate for a break, and I had only planned a nine-day trip. Paralyzed as I wrestled with his mortality, the uncertainty of Dad’s situation had me considering a permanent move to Vegas.

After getting through the holidays, finding motivation to work was a struggle and I wasn’t accepting life as it was unfolding. Being so far away in Hawai‘i made it worse. So, in February, I cleared my schedule to return to Vegas. This time, I decided to be present. I was through spiraling.

By March, Dad’s health turned a corner. Doctors found a fluid buildup in his lungs that caused more pain than the cancer itself. After draining it a few times, he began to improve. This eased some of my anxiety, but I still felt helpless. I knew the best thing I could do was take care of myself.

Photo: Thomas Obungen

After I returned to Hawai‘i, I started decluttering my apartment, which allowed me emotional space to assess my life and how I wanted to move forward. Next was a long overdue checkup with my doctor, and it came as no surprise that I wasn’t doing well.

I began setting and enforcing boundaries. Learning how to effectively say “no” has been the greatest lesson of all. Seeking inspiration, I leaned into creative projects, signing up for classes, tours and workshops that allowed me to tap in to my left brain. Dad and I exchanged Lego sets for Christmas, and we swiftly fell down the rabbit hole of colorful bricks. He found catharsis with building and displaying finished sets. I felt accomplished focusing on one task for hours on end.

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I also returned to my pandemic hobby of taking long walks. In early 2021, I averaged 7 miles most days. Today, with a full work schedule, I’m closer to 5. I’m also spending less time staring at screens, and this, combined with more time outside, has done wonders for my mental clarity and waistline. My diet also flipped from an amalgamation of treats to whole vegetables, fruits and proteins. Still, I allow myself a fat bacon and egg sandwich in the morning and bowls of pasta here and there. I am a hedonist after all.

Meanwhile, Dad’s health is improving by the day. And on March 27, we learned he’s cancer-free. It’s a huge relief, especially for Mom. As for me, I’m still moving forward. I finally love myself for the person I’ve become and choices I’ve made. The lessons I learned were tough, but I’m thankful I arrived here, sooner than later.