If you’re anything like me, you probably like to think you have more control over your life than you do.

Then reality smacks you in the face when you get a pesky reminder that you’re not really in control of any of it.

This getting cancer thing has been one of those reminders for me. Cancer rocks your world. I always imagined how difficult it would be, but you never quite “get it” until you actually get it. Experiencing life’s most serious challenges always provides that smack in the face. In August when I was first diagnosed, all I felt was shock, despair, and depression. I had to learn that I’m not really in control, and cancer didn’t care how well I took care of myself to keep it away.

I felt like I lost my whole self to cancer for a few months. There was nothing else– just me and my cancer.

It got worse when I found out I needed chemotherapy. I was terrified of it. All I wanted was to have this part behind me. The only way I knew how to do that was to put my head down and grit my way through the next four months. It felt like a matter of survival.

All I could think of was getting through to the end.

So I became obsessed with “the end”: December 27th. That was the date of my last chemo. I thought I had to stop everything in my life until December 27th. That was the magic number.

Let me make it clear and tell you once more that my life wouldn’t be okay until December 27th.

The end became even more important once I started chemo. It made me so sick at first that I really didn’t think I could do it. Luckily, we learned new ways to better manage the side effects for the last few rounds. It was by no means fun, but it became more tolerable.

As I started to feel better I realized that I could live more in the now instead of focus solely on the end.

I began to see that I didn’t have to completely put my life on hold until December 27th. I could simply take the days I needed to recover, and then do my best to enjoy my life the other days.

This created a huge mental and emotional shift for me. Even though a sadness always set in again on the pre- and post-chemo days, I stopped counting down every day until the 27th. I started to feel more at ease, and I saw that I could create some normalcy for myself during the days that I felt well.

Then I discovered that my final chemo was not scheduled for December 27th but instead December 28th.

Although I mostly kept calm, it felt catastrophic.

How could they do this to me? Didn’t they know that my only form of survival for the past four months was knowing that I could count on December 27th? Didn’t they know that it had been supporting me through this terrible time in my life?

For months, the countdown was the only coping mechanism I had. I idealized the 27th. Everything would be okay when I reached this date. Having to wait one extra day took that all away.

I had been so attached to this one date, this one concept that changing it on me felt unbearable. At first I didn’t know how to cope with this betrayal, and I spent all night tossing and turning and ruminating over how I would solve this. I created scenarios wondering how they could do this to me and how I could convince them to fix this mistake.

Surely it was a mistake.

We’re all wondering, “how could one day matter so much?”

It’s not really about one day. It’s about attachments and control. It’s about what we cling to when we need help and we need hope.

That is what December 27th gave to me.

Sometimes anchoring to something like this can be a good tool. It helped me get through a hard time the best I knew how. But what happens when your “best” coping mechanism gets taken away from you?

We have to find ways to adapt.

The biggest challenge with change is resistance to it. When I thought I could convince the nurses to give me the date I rightfully earned, I worried more. I felt more stressed and more angry.

As soon as I could, I asked them to change it; and because of Christmas, they couldn’t.

It was disappointing, but once I realized there was nothing I could do about the date, I chose to accept it. That acceptance allowed me to move on. It allowed me to cope with the change itself. It allowed me to stop worrying and to let go of being angry about it. It freed me up to change my inner dialogue to tell myself why the 28th could actually be better.

How well we let go of control and adapt to change reduces our suffering.

It got me thinking about all the other attachments we create for ourselves in life. When I judge myself for making a big deal over one day, I think about how upset we all can get about one day. Take the example when we have a great trip planned and we miss the first day because we were stuck in the airport because of delays. Losing that one day of our precious vacation would upset most of us.

It also reminds me of my pilates instructor who had to cancel her Mexico trip because of a hurricane. She worked so hard building her own business that she hadn’t taken a vacation in years. When a storm forced her to cancel her long-awaited trip, she didn’t know how to adapt. Instead of being flexible and choosing a new, awesome vacation spot, she stayed home and sulked (her words, by the way.) She felt paralyzed by this change and didn’t even think about re-routing her trip.

What if we start thinking in longer terms versus just a single day? What if you thought you picked the right career and you find yourself unhappy and unfulfilled? How do you adapt to that realization? Maybe you sit and sulk your way through the years. Maybe your “December 27th” is paying off your student loans, or maybe it’s actually counting down the days until retirement.

Letting go of control helps us get unstuck.

Just as I got over losing my December 27th, we can all start by accepting what is. Once we accept why we have a problem or accepting a change we don’t like, we can at least address it.

We can become adaptable and let go of thinking we have control, freeing us up to get creative and take action.