If we were having coffee today I’d apologize for my recent absence. We’ve had a lot going on these past few weeks and it was difficult to find the time to sit down and share a little of what was going on.
What’s the deal? The BIG “C” is what we’ve been dealing with.
My darling wife was diagnosed with breast cancer and we’ve been completely absorbed with a wild mix of office visits, biopsies, blood draws, mammograms (and more mammograms + ultrasound + more X-Rays), bad news, and finally surgery.
Worry is the worst of it. We worried about the diagnosis, about the prospect of surgery and its many possible complications, and we worry about the reality of a lifetime of changes. Worry alone is enough to wear anyone out.
She had a double mastectomy almost two weeks ago. Big reality check: It basically involves not one but two amputations.
Let that sink in for a minute. Amputations.
Let that sink in for a minute. Amputations.
It has been both physically and psychologically taxing for her. She feels she has lost part of what makes her a woman. Think about it. We live in a society that is obsessed with breasts and here she is losing hers in her own private war on cancer. Me? I am just busy trying to be there for her while at the same time trying to keep the animals fed and the house in some vague resemblance of order. I also help her keep track of her meds and monitor her symptoms, and of course, I have to manage her drainage tubes.
I try to reassure her that, in my mind, really, what makes her a woman is HER. She’s still there completely, along with all of her love, her intelligence, and especially that feisty survivor attitude. To me, THAT is what makes her a woman, not those appendages. She’s my other half and she always will be. Sure, I’m a man. I love breasts … especially hers. But I’ve psyched myself to hate the cancer that was in them. For me, it was a no-brainer. I’ve still got HER and that is all that matters to me. I am inspired by her inner strength.
I’d long heard the term “breast cancer survivor”… but now I have a much better understanding of what that means. I’ve seen these first phases of it first hand. We were told that the second she was diagnosed she joined the ranks of survivors. I also know there is a vast sisterhood out there of her fellow survivors. It is astounding to learn how many lives have been touched by breast cancer. Survivors are everywhere. My hat is off to all of you. Every single one of you deserves everyone’s total respect: this is a sisterhood that needs to be heard. As I sat in the waiting room at the Duke University Medical Center Breast Clinic during her breast biopsies I realized this affects young and old, all races, all sizes, all religions, rich, poor … it can affect anyone, every day, every month, every year.
I also understand now that “breast cancer” is not a singular entity. That is a highly generic term. I’ve learned that every single patient has their own version of the disease, with its unique currents and whirlpools in the stream of life. Specific treatments of even similar ‘types’ of cancer cells can take many twists and turns. She’s still in the early stages of treatment. The pathology of her cancer cells shows a certain promise of optimism for a long-term cure but the jury is definitely still out and we are sitting in a darkened waiting room of an uncertain future. It will likely be weeks before we know the plot of the next chapters of her story.
I told her last night she is a Warrior Woman in her new lifelong battle with cancer. Her scars are battle scars. Together we are going to beat this and kick this cancer’s ass.
So, dear coffee friends, that is the reason for my absence the last couple of weeks. Please donate to valid breast cancer research charities, like The Breast Cancer Research Foundation. I like them because a very high percentage of the money they receive goes to research.
Please reblog this or tweet and retweet links to this post. Please share your own stories in the comments. We have got to win this fight.