After the diagnosis, I almost instinctively decided to share my illness with my family and friends. I contacted them via WhatsApp, email or Facebook Messenger, and usually went straight to the point: I've an unpleasant message to share. I've been diagnosed with…
Without exception, all addressees replied with one question: “How can we help?”
Initially, I didn't know what to answer. Overwhelmed with the situation, I couldn't oversee what kind of help I would possibly need. I wasn't used to asking for help; I was simply not raised that way. In our entrepreneurial family, “doing it yourself” had immense value. What's more, as a former nurse and a mother of three, it had been just natural for me to be the one to offer help. But since my burnout twelve years ago, I came to understand that helping others can also be a meritorious and convenient thing to do to avoid emotional struggles in one's own life. I learned that the obsessive need to help others with advice, tips or other information strengthens one's feeling of self-importance. I gradually matured into the idea that insecure personalities like me should be careful with “fixing others”. Altruistic Ata from the old days has finally learned to recognize her own subconscious needs first.
When it comes to accepting help from others, it has generally depended on how comfortable I have felt with the specific guidance, feedback, or support from others. Overall, I've always seen myself more as a learner or student – not as a teacher. I suppose in ordinary life it's all about finding a balance between giving and taking.
Initially, I didn't know what to answer. Overwhelmed with the situation, I couldn't oversee what kind of help I would possibly need. I wasn't used to asking for help; I was simply not raised that way. In our entrepreneurial family, “doing it yourself” had immense value. What's more, as a former nurse and a mother of three, it had been just natural for me to be the one to offer help. But since my burnout twelve years ago, I came to understand that helping others can also be a meritorious and convenient thing to do to avoid emotional struggles in one's own life. I learned that the obsessive need to help others with advice, tips or other information strengthens one's feeling of self-importance. I gradually matured into the idea that insecure personalities like me should be careful with “fixing others”. Altruistic Ata from the old days has finally learned to recognize her own subconscious needs first.
When it comes to accepting help from others, it has generally depended on how comfortable I have felt with the specific guidance, feedback, or support from others. Overall, I've always seen myself more as a learner or student – not as a teacher. I suppose in ordinary life it's all about finding a balance between giving and taking.
*
But the current situation is far from ordinary. I've been diagnosed with cancer, the chemo makes me feel worn out, and my family is miles away. I realise I'm no longer in the position to avoid either practical or emotional help.
When my friend Aline came to see me in the hospital and resolutely asked, “What needs to be done?” while taking a notebook and pen from her bag, I instantly felt someone was talking business. Vulnerable from my hospital bed – tied to an ascites drain and infusion tube – I realised I wouldn't get away with “thanks I'm fine”.
So, I tell Aline everything. I explain the complicated procedure to get extra time for my MBA studies, about giving up my role as lead organiser at TEDxOulu and the reactions from my colleagues at work. I mention how much I regret that I can't go to the gym any longer, that I arranged a cleaning company to keep the bathroom spick and span. I also reveal how much I wish to continue with my workshops and lectures about loneliness, run my business, meet with friends and at the same time continue my voluntary work for the Dutch association in Finland and Nuorten Ystävät. I then list my hobbies, reading, photography, hiking and the Mummonmökki renovation project I'd been occupied with since last September. Aline nodded, took notes and finally asked what exactly needed attention first.
Without thinking, I replied: “My voluntary work at Nuorten Ystävät.” “Routine is crucial,” I explained.
When my friend Aline came to see me in the hospital and resolutely asked, “What needs to be done?” while taking a notebook and pen from her bag, I instantly felt someone was talking business. Vulnerable from my hospital bed – tied to an ascites drain and infusion tube – I realised I wouldn't get away with “thanks I'm fine”.
So, I tell Aline everything. I explain the complicated procedure to get extra time for my MBA studies, about giving up my role as lead organiser at TEDxOulu and the reactions from my colleagues at work. I mention how much I regret that I can't go to the gym any longer, that I arranged a cleaning company to keep the bathroom spick and span. I also reveal how much I wish to continue with my workshops and lectures about loneliness, run my business, meet with friends and at the same time continue my voluntary work for the Dutch association in Finland and Nuorten Ystävät. I then list my hobbies, reading, photography, hiking and the Mummonmökki renovation project I'd been occupied with since last September. Aline nodded, took notes and finally asked what exactly needed attention first.
Without thinking, I replied: “My voluntary work at Nuorten Ystävät.” “Routine is crucial,” I explained.
*
Nuorten Ystävät is a private non-profit organisation that provides social and health services for youths and children. Every Friday since 2019, I have visited Pönkkä, the clubhouse in Oulu to meet with the most honest and sincere people in the world. I know this sounds over the top, but in my daily work for a business agency I meet with people who are naturally more calculating or insidious. Connecting with people who allow themselves to be vulnerable is way easier.
During my weekly visit, we play games, listen to music and practice languages. The group makes jokes about my Finnish, and I encourage them to use English, or sometimes even German. They teach me about Finnish history and tell me stories about the role their grandparents played during the Winter War. I bring in lyrics of English pop songs or tell them about the history of the low countries. Together, we create games, fantasise about starting a business and “solve” societal problems such as climate change or poverty.
Pönkkä has declared itself a diagnose free zone but sometimes the group members tell me about their burdens in life. I confess about mine and together we try to find solutions to tackle loneliness or stress.
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| Thoughtful gifts and a sweet card from "my" group. |
When I was in hospital, in the second week of January, I asked my sister, who was visiting me from the Netherlands, to substitute me. She's a gold and silversmith, and armed with some of my rings and bracelets she made her way to Pönkkä, where she told the group about her work. “They gave me such a warm welcome and had so many questions about carats and gemstones,” she told me afterwards. Pondering from my hospital bed I realised how seldom strangers visit the place.
*
Since our discussion, Aline coordinates my voluntary job at Nuorten Ystävat. Every week one of our mutual friends visits “my” group. The guests talk about journalism, food, drones or share anecdotes about their home countries such as Greece, Britain or Spain. This approach means that not only does the group get to know people from different nationalities with different professions and hobbies but also that my friends learn about the activities at Pönkkä and its affiliates. From the weekly summaries I receive via Whatsapp I feel my friends' enthusiasm. “They've asked for an extra 30 minutes as the one-hour sessions are too short,” Aline wrote in one of her Whatsapp messages.
When I asked the Pönkkä group what they thought of this 2023 surprise program, they let me know they were excited and astonished by the number of guests Aline had arranged for them.
Jari, one of the group members, added: “I had never really thought about the varied backgrounds and jobs the people living in Oulu have. I guess this spring has made Pönkkä feel more international.”
I hope they will take me back as a volunteer after my recovery.
