I've not written much, if anything, about my wife's battle with breast cancer. It's a raw, painful, and unpleasant subject. I should have kept a journal during the time she faced that horrific battle against cancer. She dealt with a total mastectomy of her right breast, followed by a torturous course of horribly debilitating chemotherapy. She came out of it fine. She survived. I survived. I would not have survived a different outcome.
Before she began the chemotherapy, she told me she had decided not to go through it. Hearing her say that...remembering her say it...was like a knife slicing through my heart. I felt like I had died and the pain had just gotten worse. Thankfully, she changed her mind. She went through one of the darkest periods of her life, dealing with a progressively horrific experience, and came through it victorious, successful, having beat the cancer. But it was a godawful time. I can't help becoming quite emotional at the thought of it.
One day, I shall write about my perspective of dealing with my wife's illness. It was so damn hard, in some respects. In other respects, though, it was not a challenge...I just felt like I have to do what I have to do to help her get through it. I was probably not the best person to help her deal with it. That will haunt me forever. I was not as unconditionally supportive as I should have been. I let my own pettiness get in the way of being selfless.
It's still too hard to write much about that time. But I am so fortunate to still have my wife with me. Our love has continued to grow through the tough times. She deserves better than I gave her during that tough time, though. I don't quite know how to deal with that fact.
One day I will write more about how I felt and how I observed my very strong wife deal with something that I probably would have been unable to face with such courage. And now, she faces something else, her mother's mortality, and I don't quite know how to deal with it. She had a different perspective than I. The bottom line is this: her experience, her emotions are the things she needs to deal with, not my interpretation of what is appropriate.
My wife rarely reads my blog. She may never even happen upon this page. I'm not writing this for her. I'm writing it for me, to help me understand and deal with things that are just damn tough for me to deal with.
1 comment:
(Just reading this over after writing it, it probably sounds a little disjointed -and it's long - but I'll post it anyhow - what the heck).
Dealing with someone else's serious illness is a very difficult thing and, to tell the truth, I think it really screws with your head . My dad was diagnosed with kidney cancer in autumn 1998. I ran his little manufacturing business to help keep things going while he had surgery. Unfortunately, kidney cancer usually has a pretty crappy prognosis. My dad was actually pretty good for awhile, but the cancer had spread and by Feb. 99, it flared up quickly and he died March 17. I was his principal caregiver for the last couple of months as he wanted to remain at home until death. Kidney cancer is considered one of the worst cancers as far as care, so it was pretty stressful. My dad's doctors thought it would be too much for me to handle (it really was), but I told them I had dealt with keeping a huge herd of goats for years and I could probably take dealing with just about anything the illness could toss at us. I could, but it was pretty tough. His death was not particularly good. I guess I won't ever really forget it. However, I'm glad I was able to hold it all together for him. Btw, interesting anecdote -- he tried doing chemo close to the end and that sucked bigtime. His hair started falling out like mad... but after he died, a lot of *my* hair fell out by the handful for several weeks. Anyhow, after he died, I felt very weird -- shell-shocked -- and like I had been left behind. Apparently, this is a common feeling for primary caregivers -- rather like being in the trenches together and carrying your buddy back from enemy lines, only to find that he's died. I think that shows what an impact illness and death can have on somone who is close.
Skipping ahead to something somehow related... This year, I had to have surgery for what was suspected to be cancer. After the surgery, when I woke up, my husband was standing next to the bed and burst out crying. I said, "What? What's wrong? Did they find cancer?" He started crying even worse and wouldn't answer me. Of course, I suspected the worst. He finally got a grip on himself and I discovered that he just went to pieces from the stress and the sight of me after surgery. He's a pretty rock solid kind of guy, so it was revealing to see just how difficult a time he had dealing with my illness and the surgery. He didn't do nearly as well as I thought he would. Fortunately, I didn't have cancer, so he (and I) didn't have to deal with anything more than recovering from surgery.
Anyhow, I have come to look at illnesses as experiences that we just don't have a how-to manual telling us how to deal with situations as they come up. We end up having to make it up as we go along. I learned that caring for my dad. We had to take each day as it came -- sort of like being in a boat that came up against bigger and bigger waves, with the odd quiet rest in between. That was the only way I could find to cope...with his illness and then with my own. Luckily, I have a close friend who has had to deal with many life-threatening illnesses and he has taught me a lot about coping... but it's stuff we tend to push away from us and not want to think about unless we actually have to. I guess someone needs to do a "dealing with life-threatening illness for dummies" book. Probably sell zillions of copies.
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