On July the 3rd, I received an email from the University of Cumbria: “You are due to return from intercalation on the 15th of August 2023. I would be grateful if you could confirm by 17 July 2023 that you intend to return to your course,” it said.
I’d just received my 6th chemo treatment that day and felt too tired to reply. Besides, I didn’t know what to reply so I put the message aside.
*
In 2019, after a failed attempt to get into a PhD program at the University of Oulu, I registered for an MBA in international healthcare management, a degree program offered by the University of Cumbria in the UK and the Robert Kennedy College in Zurich. I don’t think I would ever have laid my eyes on a regular MBA program, but the healthcare management part had my interest.
I’d discovered during earlier studies that I like the process of reading, researching and writing especially during the dark and cold Finnish winters. Books, articles, laptop, coffee, the cat on the table and my academic life is perfectly set out.
My husband, a mathematical and natural science scientist working for the university, suggested self-study instead. “It’s just easier and less stressful,” he said. He had a point, but I like with any organised study program, you’re also forced to dive into topics that don’t have your immediate interest. I would never voluntarily read a book about financial management or sustainable leadership practices. In retrospect, both courses turned out to be very valuable. Ludicrously enough, I’m nowadays able to identify what hospitals (major contributors to GHG-greenhouse gases) can do to address, for instance, sustainable cancer care.
Moreover, I need interaction with other students, and I appreciate feedback and reassurance from supervisors.
Self-study would have been a lonely endeavour and it would probably have taken away my motivation at an early stage. I decided to pay the fee and submit the registration form.
*
Initially, I was committed to get my studies done within two years. But halfway I became lead organiser of TEDxOulu, another challenging and fun project which turned out more time-consuming than expected. It delayed my studies considerably, but luckily, I was studying for myself, not for an employer or for a career move. It suited me that I was able to spread out my studies over a period of five years.
My husband was right about the stress, though. I often found myself changing content, adding new literature or again checking with the lecturers if I had understood the assignment correctly. My insecurity follows me always and everywhere, but nevertheless, I seamlessly passed all courses. Last autumn I had started with setting out plans for my dissertation about the role of leadership in relation to social disconnection or loneliness in the workplace.
In January, the diagnosis of ovarian cancer fell.
*
I remember a discussion with my sister shortly after the diagnosis in which I revealed how much I regret that once you die, all your knowledge evaporates together with you. “Everything I’ve learned during the last years will be gone,” I complained, presuming that my life would end soon. “What’s the point of studying anyways?”
I’m a late bloomer and started studying again after our three boys had flown out. More focused and disciplined than in my younger years, I thoroughly enjoyed my studies. My second son, a business IT student, bragged about his old student mum. “When I tell my friends about you and your studies, I feel so proud of you,” he revealed to me. I felt flattered.
But now I realise that being an older student also has its disadvantages. You simply have less time to capitalise on your newly gained insights. I was already in my early fifties when I started researching loneliness because I felt lonely myself. After I’d completed my masters thesis about loneliness among immigrants, I decided to obtain a teaching degree and start my own business. Since then, I’ve taught healthcare workers and student teachers about the theory of loneliness. As I’ve noticed, life experience helps to explain knowledge in a compassionate way to my clients and students. I don’t think that I would have been ready to present my vulnerable self to a group of students when I was in my thirties. It’s more likely that at the time I would have been in denial about my loneliness altogether.
However, when I hear confident business colleagues talk about their services or products, I sometimes wish I had had a bit of their sturdiness. I’m observant, a careful thinker and sensitive about the opinion of others. “We all have our own truths,” is my truth doesn’t sound like a convincing die-hard entrepreneur, does it? I certainly know a lot about loneliness, social isolation and the need for social connection but I never feel I know enough. There are so many books that I still need to read. I don't think self-doubt is bad by definition, but I’m getting a sneaky feeling that I’m the kind of person that signs up for courses to build knowledge and entrepreneurial confidence.
But suddenly none of this felt relevant anymore. As a stage 4 cancer patient I couldn’t think of valid reasons why I should finish my studies.
*
My gloomy thoughts changed after my fifth chemo in July. “We decided that you will receive two more chemo treatments,” the nurse stated. The last one will be in August. “We will then continue with cancer medication for 15 months.”
At first, I didn’t give her words much thought. I would still need to go to the hospital for IV treatments and regular lab visits. The cancer medication, Bevacizumab, has side effects too. Also, from the biopsies taken during surgery I know there are still remnants of metastasis in my liver and deep into my diaphragm muscle. So far, my treatment has been successful but I’m far from recovered.
After a week or so the message of the nurse slowly sank in. Little by little, the fact that the chemos will come to an end made me start to gain perspective again. No chemos means more energy and more energy means more activities and more activities means back to “normal” although I realise very well that life will never be “normal” again. It gradually dawned on me that soon I would receive my last chemo. It felt as if the sky had become a bit brighter.
It was in this mindset that I read the email by the University of Cumbria again.
Will I feel energetic enough to write a masters thesis after my last chemo, I wondered. Is it a waste of time? Shouldn’t I avoid stress? The answer is yes but I’m also determined to bring some discipline back into my life, challenge my brain again and get some sense of control and achievement.
On the 16th of July I wrote to the coordinators that I will return to the program to finish my studies.
My aim is to make my thesis part of my healing process. Fingers crossed it will work out.
*
*Fast forward, on August 14 the slightly open door closed right into my face when a young doctor came to the ward to inform me that from September onward, I will receive three more chemo treatments.
I hope the university will be prepared to extend my leave of absence once more and give me the opportunity to finish my degree. Sometime in 2024 maybe.
