The joy of cancer: a physician discovers firsthand how happiness helps fight a deadly disease.

Doctors are not supposed to get sick, but we do, and I did. While treating patients and patients' families' problems, doing research on the psychological effects of cancer on both physicians and patients, and lecturing on the subject of cancer far and wide, I was chasing the disease as rapidly as I could.

My previous work had familiarized me with the psychological problems cancer patients exhibit and the healthy or pathological defenses they develop. I discovered the importance of fostering the will to live and a determination to fight the disease, all the while maintaining a realistic quality of life.

To achieve this, there are four steps to follow:

STEP 1: Curse it. It's absolutely normal and healthy to be angry about the situation. Anyone afflicted by cancer--any cancer of any grade of severity--is going to be in a rage about it, whether he or she is aware of this or not. Anger and rage are energy and, as such, must be discharged lest they become destructive to others or to oneself, creating such secondary maladies as depression, withdrawal, emotional paralysis, or even suicide.

STEP 2: Bear it. Face the truth, no matter how grim it appears. This requires ruthless avoidance of all denial, wishful thinking, "woe is me" attitude (feeling or playing the victim of an unjust destiny), or blame of oneself for "having brought the disease upon myself." It's paramount that negative thinking be avoided. To the physical cancer, negativity adds an emotional malignancy and must not be tolerated.

While we have no control over the thoughts and emotions that may arise, we certainly can learn to deal with any thought or emotion, no matter how negative, frightening, or socially unacceptable. Obsessing about "unacceptable" thoughts or emotions or giving in to guilt feelings about them will only feed the negativity--perpetuating it.

Denying negative thoughts or emotions is no better. It will only drive them underground, where they'll fester, thrive, and create havoc. When they arise--and they do in all humans--let them be. If acknowledged and accepted, they can be overcome by focusing on an entirely different topic, or on some absorbing, demanding physical activity.

No worrying either. That's a lose-lose proposition. No obsessing about worst-case scenarios that may never happen. Instead, this energy should be focused on coping with the increased physical and emotional demands--even more so if the dreaded situation occurs.

One aspect of facing reality is being fully aware of the limitations of your energy, of the overwhelming fatigue that often accompanies cancer's attack. Everything not crucial to physical or emotional survival must be eliminated or postponed without giving in to total passivity.

For several months every weekday of my life consisted of essentially two things: going to the hospital for radiation therapy and treatment of its side effects, and keeping my usual schedule with my patients. At no stage of my treatment could I bring myself to miss a single day or a single session, or allow myself to function in any way below my usual standard.

STEP 3: Combat it. Having faced and accepted your condition and its implications, you have to set out to optimize your chance of recovery--physically and emotionally. Ferret out the best possible medical help rather than going with what's readily available, convenient, or suggested by well-meaning relatives, friends, or many commercial sites on the Internet.

The treatment of choice for my cancer recurrence was high-intensity radiation therapy. I found myself locked in a hermetically sealed room, deprived of any control over the proceedings, while overhead a huge heavy machine hung down very close to my body, shooting powerful radiation into it. Despite all the anxiety-creating aspects of the situation, I knew I must not give in to terror or conjure up devastatingly horrible images. Instead, I knew I needed to relax and concentrate on mentally visualizing the powerful healing rays destroying the tumor, vaporizing it bit by bit. Doing so generated healing energy.

Step 4: Laugh at it. My work with cancer patients taught me the therapeutic importance of laughter. A good giggle makes patients feel better, not only emotionally but also physically. It temporarily makes their pains, even severe cancer pains, disappear.

From a purely physiological standpoint laughter creates increased relaxation and oxygenation. Endorphins, the body's homegrown "narcotics," go to work. The body's immune system is stimulated as well. Laughter brings about well-being by combating destructive stress, depression, rage, and insomnia. It provides an overall liberating effect. Distraction from oneself, from one's physical and other concerns, plays a beneficial role too.

It's very helpful to your doctor and his/her staff to actually enjoy having you around. With humor serving as motivation, the treating personnel will go out of their way to be helpful and caring, thus creating a physically and emotionally therapeutic environment. Treatment, even a very trying or painful one, becomes a much more effective and tolerable experience. Making the hospital personnel laugh as often as possible--making fun of your own disabilities--gets you treated joyfully rather than according to an impersonal routine.

I laughed a lot at home, in my office, as well as at the hospital. I woke up every day to affectionate messages and hilarious e-mails. Then it was off to the hospital for radiation therapy or for treatment of its rather severe side effects. (At one point radiation therapy made me hardly able to walk and unable to sit.)

When physically able, I went from the hospital straight back to my office for my work: intensive, stimulating psychotherapy sessions. These were frequently punctuated by laughter, provoked by witty patients or by my own joking. When the therapy/analysis became so intensely painful as to come to a standstill, and I could think of nothing better, I'd deliver an atrocious pun to make my patients laugh--not so much at the pun, but at me--allowing the session to resume. There can be difficult moments at any time, even after you believe you're out of the woods. Two months after completion of my treatment, when no sign whatsoever of my cancer could be found by any available means, I happily relaxed my guard, only to be assaulted by two consecutive nights of constant, horrendous nightmares dealing mainly with death. Negativity, so long banished from my conscious existence, seemed to have wanted to take its revenge, attempting to get at me via my subconscious mind. But I refused to give negativity any attention. I let it wash over me, as a good swimmer would a wave, and then it subsided by itself. No more nightmares, no lasting effect on the quality of my life.

Sense of Joy

Except to my patients and those in my building, I'd made no secret of my illness and of its treatment, stating it matter-of-factly, not complaining, not asking for help or emotional support. Asking for little, I got a lot. Comfort repeatedly came even from unexpected sources, including people not even close to me. Offers of help arrived, seemingly out of nowhere. People offered major assistance, such as the possibility of my staying with them, or their being "on call" for me at any hour of the day or night. I was surrounded by warmth and caring in an almost surreal way, which in turn fed my emotional strength. A joyful, beneficial circle was thus created.

Contact with other people or favorite pets; work; sports; music; writing; walking; going to lectures, ball games; reading humorous books; and viewing cartoons, funny movies, or videos are all part of the fight. Any bit of beauty and joy that's easily accessible can lift the spirit, be it a flower, a lively color, a lovely sound, a smiling face, a stimlating idea, or even the full moon.

Potent Transforming Power

While Christians understand that religion is a potent power in their lives, even agnostics--those who are ignorant of God or unable or unwilling to generate faith in a divine power--can transform the ordeal of cancer into a truly enriching, joyful experience. Depression, anxiety, and emotional devastation are not compulsory byproducts of cancer or its recurrence. Contrary to usual expectations, it's entirely possible to live through the travails of the illness and its treatment while maintaining equanimity, a quality of life, and the ability to feel joy and impart it to others.

Being positive worked for me. It's working for countless others. And it will work for you.

A fully involved physician and teacher, Judith Bronner-Huszar is the author of numerous magazine and newspaper articles, in addition to professional publications. This 75-year-old physician, pioneer, international lecturer, consultant, and leader remains a remarkable twenty-first-century renaissance woman.