Meet Dr. Lisa Cherry: Multiple Myeloma Fighter and Trauma Expert

We spoke with Dr. Lisa Cherry, a multiple myeloma fighter who has dedicated over 30 years to Education and Children’s Services. Currently, she operates her own consulting practice to advise organizations on how to be more trauma-informed.

What is your cancer story?

I have a type of blood cancer called Multiple Myeloma. I started noticing a difference in how I was responding to things in September 2023. The first indication for me was not my physical health but my mental health, which was very interesting. Over the course of a few weeks, I had felt very anxious and had some panic attacks. I also felt bone pain, which worsened over time until I ended up in the hospital. 

The hospital had no idea what was going on.

They asked me to go to my GP after I’d taken some antibiotics. Within 48 hours, I had a blood test. My doctor called me and said, “I’m going to be making an urgent referral to hematology.” Whoa. 

Over the next few weeks, my medical team investigated things further. At the end of November 2023, I officially received the diagnosis of multiple myeloma. I had 16 weeks of chemotherapy between December and May. I then had my stem cells harvested, which are sat in the freezer in preparation for a stem cell transplant. I had my stems returned to my body on 19th July 2024, and I am now in ‘complete remission,’

Multiple Myeloma is not curable.

I 100% live with knowing that I will relapse. I have a rare cancer diagnosis, and the biggest difference this causes for me is that there’s no tumor to remove. The cancer is in my blood. Untreated, there’s also a lot of pain. In the first six weeks, the bone pain was pain I’d never experienced before. I had a friend going through breast cancer treatment at the same time, and she never had pain. I couldn’t walk or anything. Luckily, the chemotherapy got me to a place of partial remission, so the pain dramatically decreased. Nevertheless, I’m now learning that the myeloma could have also given me arthritic pain. It’s really the gift that keeps on giving.

I’m grateful to have a true desire to be alive.

I try to stay away from toxic positivity, but I aim to look for the bright side of everything. I have always lived in an optimistic bubble that everything’s going to be OK! Taking each step as it comes goes a long way. When I first had a diagnosis, I was really sad. I thought, “If this is my life, I don’t want to have it.” Coming out on the other side of those feelings has been wonderful. 

For the first few weeks after someone says to you, “You’ve got incurable cancer” the first thing that springs to mind is that you’re going to die. Your first thought is not, “Oh, there are so many wonderful treatments for this type of cancer now!” Christmas was coming, and I was constantly thinking, “I’m never going to have a Christmas again.” Everything was so overwhelming. The pain I was experiencing was horrible as well. All I could think about was, “This is it for me.” So to come out on the other side of that and mentally bounce back to my positive love life kind of personality has been fantastic. Nobody wants to sit in that dark space for so long.

Before cancer, I was living my best life.

I was traveling all over the world as the director of my own company. I run this organization and have all these amazing people around me. I was having a great time, going to the gym four times a week. I was really healthy, fit, and strong. To suddenly not have that was such a shock. I’m still adjusting to my new life. Any time I get used to one thing with cancer, I have something else to deal with. You have to have an extremely flexible mindset with cancer.

It’s also good to talk about how you were before cancer. People still think, “Oh, cancer only happens to people who aren’t healthy.” That couldn’t be further from the truth. You can be in the peak health of your life, and cancer will still affect you. It has no rhyme or reason. Of course, there are things that can increase your chances of getting cancer. But you can still never have done any of these things or done them in such a small way that it shouldn’t have affected your life, and you still get cancer. It doesn’t matter. I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, I don’t eat rubbish food. I’m really health-conscious. And cancer still came and knocked at the door. 

Some cancers are very much increased by lifestyle choices, and some cancers are not. I am under absolutely no doubt in my mind that stress activated my cancerous cells. I’ve had periods in my life which have been intensely stressful. I’ve had trauma, constant working for years, raised children on my own, and lived in a constant state of anxiousness and worry. It was too much. So many of us throughout the world live like that. No human is supposed to live like that. My key message to everybody is to say no more. Say you’re not living like that anymore, and somehow stop, even if you have to isolate yourself more to do so.

How did your experience in the trauma-informed space affect your cancer journey?

I am the director of an organization called Trauma Informed Consultancy Services. We offer training, consultancy, research, keynote speeches, and supervision that are linked to supporting organizations in becoming more trauma-informed.

A lot of my work is managing the organization, but I also run a lot of training sessions myself. This month, I’ve been speaking at conferences about belonging. I’m very keen on thinking about belonging as an antidote to trauma, which I’ve discovered through my research. So I continue to focus on that.

Before getting into this work, I spent 20 years in social work and education. I’ve been doing this work for about 15 years now.

My trauma-informed community gave me so much generosity. That community spans across the world. I have clients in multiple countries. Every day, I receive gifts, cards, and supportive messages from people. I realized that I’m not very good at receiving, and actually had to learn how to receive gifts from people.

My work in this space also helped me to understand what was going on in my body.

I was in shock and was feeling very traumatized because of what was happening to my body, which was processing information that was overwhelming my system. Luckily, I have a network of relationships to help buffer that experience. It’s very easy to be overwhelmed by a cancer diagnosis, particularly if you don’t understand what’s happening in your body. You don’t understand that you’re in shock, that you’ve experienced something quite traumatic. 

The medical model doesn’t seem to understand a cancer diagnosis's psychological impact. The model is good at doing the medical stuff but not so good at thinking about how to handle the psychological impact of the medical stuff. The medical model doesn’t know how to start helping a person heal from that.

I’m very much focused on the medical stuff, and when I’ve had all the medical input, then I can focus on the healing side of things. That’s where my own personal and professional knowledge has helped me understand my cancer journey so far.

Do you have any advice for those working in the medical community on how to be more trauma-informed?

I have been blown away by the oncology teams and nurses. They are amazing. Some of them have no idea what “trauma-informed” means, but they are very trauma-informed through their work. They do the things that make a difference. They will refer to you by name, make sure they maintain eye contact, make sure their body language is warm, and explain things regularly so you know what’s going on and what they’re going to do. They cultivate psychological safety. This makes all the difference.

Some things they could work on are the following. When you go to appointments, you’re constantly asked for your name and date of birth, and sometimes they ask very loudly. If you’re a private person, you don’t want to always shout your name and date of birth. 

I had one bad experience with a nurse who was not particularly nice to my son. Everywhere he sat in the room, they would tell him, “That’s for patients. That’s for patients.” I was in pain and upset. Here’s this man who is watching the strongest woman he’s ever known crying in pain. I felt like he wasn’t looked after. Make sure the people who love the people you are caring for are also looked after. They need to be able to cope with the situation and be able to support their sick loved one. 

Hospitals are very clinical environments and are not particularly warm and cozy. My stem cell transplant resulted in a long stay and I struggled to feel safe in there, even taking in my own cushions, blankets, and my own food.

At the end of the day, the most important element of trauma-informed practice is cultivating an environment of safety. If we can get that right, a lot of other stuff will follow.

Mental Health and Cancer: Let’s Talk About It

It’s really important to be compassionate with yourself. The cancer diagnosis and treatment bring challenges such as anxiety. I certainly experienced a couple of panic attacks. We have a very dichotomous model of understanding health. We speak about mental and physical health, the mind and the body, as if they are separate. It’s absolutely nonsense. We just have health and need to think holistically about how everything impacts the entire body. 

I was very lucky because I know myself very well. My mental health was the first indicator that something was wrong with me. Six weeks after my diagnosis, I was in a lot of pain, and my mental health was very poor. Night and day blurred into once. I constantly tried to listen to healing music, words of affirmation, and anything that could help me get through this really difficult time.

It’s important for people to understand that mental health and physical health are not separate.

If your physical health is not good, that will impact your mental health, and vice versa. It’s all health because it’s all in one body.

Why did you choose to start sharing your cancer journey?

I’m very much in favor of reducing stigma. It struck me quickly that there is a stigma around poor health, especially around cancer. There’s this assumption that you’ve done something wrong, you didn’t take care of yourself enough, or you’re not healthy enough.

There’s a lot of victim blaming with cancer. 

It was natural for me to talk about my cancer experience. I hope that sharing my story will help people feel more comfortable. I’ve worked pretty much all the way through treatment. I’ve shown up to work being open and honest about why my cancer could be why I’m yawning, walking uncomfortably, or running out of energy quickly. Being open about these things serves to help and support others in the workplace who are dealing with other chronic health issues.

A Message for Others in the Cancer Community:

Cancer is an opportunity to reflect, regroup your life, and connect with yourself and others. If you see cancer as an opportunity to grow, to learn, to develop, and to get to know yourself more deeply, then you’re more likely to be able to find some peace with the diagnosis. It’s not the opportunity I would have personally chosen, but life’s not fair. Life gives you experiences for you to grow.

Photo courtesy of Unsplash.