A marriage takes a lot of work; so does keeping a day job (or going to school), maintaining a home, and raising children. When you have cancer, there are times when the fight for your life takes more work than all of the above combined.
Since my diagnosis, I have been reaching out to women with cancer, both in the real world and online. One of the things that has surprised me the most is the number of relationships that have dissolved post diagnosis. It’s not one or two, it’s a lot.
Cancer and Marriage
Cancer adds a lot of stress to a marriage.
Every story is different. In some cases it was the person with cancer who left; in others, it was the co-survivor (what we call the spouse or partner of the person with cancer). They are all wildly different stories, and come from people leading different lives: from all different parts of the world, rich, poor, educated, uneducated, religious, non-religious. It’s tempting to be judgmental, but only the people in that relationship truly know their story. Let’s not pass judgment.
I’ve only been married for 6 years. I’ve only been married once. I’m not a marriage counselor. I don’t profess to have any special knowledge that would help others prevent or reverse marriage trouble, but I’ve witnessed a few things, experienced a few things, and had a few thoughts.
National statistics tell us that roughly half of all marriages in this country end in divorce. Those statistics are silent on the issue of cancer. Every relationship has its issues, and cancer doesn’t make those issues go away. In fact, there are times when cancer amplifies them. Cancer has a way of amplifying everything.
The one thing that has helped me maintain my sanity and perspective throughout this cancer ordeal is membership in a support group. I belong to the Young Survival Coalition which provides support for young women with breast cancer.
Our discussions in group are confidential, but I can tell you that at times they deal with issues in our relationships. A phrase came out at one of the meetings, and we’ve all been loving it and using it since: “You don’t go to the hardware store to get bread.” That one little phrase has been of immense help to me.
I love my husband. He is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. But I don’t expect him to be my everything. I have other people in my life: my daughter, my family, my friends, my support group. They all fill different roles, and provide support in different ways. And when I don’t expect my husband to fill the role of one of my girl friends, we get along much better. One of my friends in the support group told me: “We’ll be your bakery.”
When I unload in the group about cancer (where it is expected and appropriate) instead of unloading on my husband, we get along much better. That’s not to say I don’t tell my husband everything. He pretty much hears it all, but it’s not all at once. It’s not a deluge of problems and issues that I dump in his lap the moment he walks in the door. It’s not a bitch and whine session. It’s not constant complaining. I’ve already gotten that out of my system – dumped on the support group that completely understands what I’m going through. I already got my bread, so when I tell my husband what’s going through my head, or through my body, I can say things without that whiny tone in my voice or unrealistic expectations.
Does this have anything at all to do with the relationships that broke up? Maybe. Maybe not. I have no idea. Every relationship is different. Every person is different. This is just what helped me. Having a support group helps me be a better partner in our relationship. Believe it or not, I think practicing jiu-jitsu helps my husband be a better partner in our relationship. I’m sure other people have completely different activities that help them approach their relationship with more patience, compassion, and understanding.
I wish love, patience, compassion, and understanding could make a marriage bulletproof.
A cancer diagnosis teaches you not to take things for granted: your life, your health, your breasts, your hair. I’m adding relationships to that list.
For a more encouraging look at marriage and cancer, read my post The Promise.
For the past five years in a row, I’ve found myself in a bit of a funk come mid-summer. It’s a bit childish, for sure; this funk is all about jealousy. I’m missing the BlogHer Conference. This time of year, every year, bloggers from the far corners of the planet converge on a selected city to meet each other in person, drink, discuss tricks of the trade, and show off their high priced footwear.
This year, right now, they are in New York City.
The city of dreams.
The city so nice they named it twice.
The Big Apple.
Right at the top of my list of places that I want to visit.
The tweets and blog posts are rolling in with updates on the shenanigans and tom-foolery, and I’m enjoying the opportunity to live vicariously – to a point. Part of me is still pouting.
There has always been a good reason why I couldn’t go: pregnancy, a new baby, cancer, and most significantly, no money.
This time of year has also become a time of resolve – of promises to self. One way or another I’ll go next year, I promise myself. If I put away $100 a month starting now… yeah, right. If I had a spare $100 a month, it would be making a very small dent in some Very Large Bills. Or buying a lot more shoes.
Each year I promise myself I’ll find a way, one way or another, to go next year. The truth is that I make a lot of promises to myself. Making use of that gym membership, walking every day, eating more vegetables, getting out of debt (snort), scrubbing the toilet more frequently… And I let myself off the hook for those promises quite easily.
Don’t make promises you can’t keep? Sure. Sounds good. So about eating more vegetables…
Instead of promising myself that I will go next year, this year I’m participating in the NoGo BlogHer blogparty and The Blog Hop.
When did you start blogging?
I’ve been blogging off and on since 2001, mostly off until the past 5 years.
Why did you start blogging?
A friend got me started. In those days it was called keeping an online journal, and mine was on livejournal. It was much more insular then, and the posts were privately shared with a small community of other writers. I started because I loved having people to read, and comment on, my writing.
What is one thing you are going to do this week that is WAY cooler than going to BlogHer?
Play tickle monster with my 16 month old daughter
Share a post that you think says a lot about you or is your favorite. Stuffed Bra
I recently heard a quote that really resonated with me:
Life is not waiting for the storm to pass, it’s learning to dance in the rain.
I love the way this is stated, and it’s one of those life lessons that I really want you to understand. Your life is never going to be perfect. There will always be something that is not quite right, sometimes worse than others. You can’t just tell yourself that “things will be better when…”, or I’ll get on with my life after….” Live Now – regardless of what’s going on in your life.
Besides, dancing in the rain can be a lot of fun.
Kissing in the rain is pretty awesome too – but, you’ll wait another 20 years to find that out. Right?
As I”m writing this letter I’m sitting in a big hospital recliner as the chemo drips into me. It’s not my favorite way to spend an afternoon, I’d rather not have to deal with this at all. But it’s not all that bad either. It’s nowhere near as bad as my imagination made it out to be back when I was diagnosed. It’s interesting how the imagination tends to run towards best case and worst case scenarios, and spends very little time in the middle ground where most of reality exists.
An imagination is a wonderful thing – and I hope you develop yours and put it to good use. It is also a power that can be abused; be sure to use this power for good and not evil. Let your imagination run free as you are generating new ideas, but when it comes time to applying these ideas to real world applications, then it’s time to do some research. And by research, I don’t mean disregard everything that doesn’t support your point of view. Seriously. If you come across evidence that disproves your theory, chase it down. Do not ignore it. It is so important to educate yourself on the whole issue; failing to do so will damage your credibility. And lets face it, there will be times in your life when your credibility is all you have to offer. Take good care of it.
/lecture
Sorry about that, sometimes I get on my soapbox and prattle on about things not one else really wants to discuss. But then that’s why I have a blog.
You had your first overnight stay away from us this month. Daddy and I went camping with friends and you stayed with Grandma for two nights. That must have been a lot of fun for you. I’m sure Grandma enjoyed it as well. Grandma is awesome and all, but still, three days and two nights away from you wasn’t easy. You, on the other hand, seemed to think it was pretty cool. Good for you.
I love that you are so adaptable. I keep hearing that kids need routine and they need things to be the same all the time, but that doesn’t seem to be the case with you, my little adventurous one. Adaptability is another one of those life skills that will take you places, and make your life a lot more interesting, fun, and easier too. The adaptability makes it easier for us to travel with you, which means more adventures for you, too.
We spent this past weekend in Bellingham, and we had a wonderful time. Your adaptability makes it so easy for us to travel with you. You love and adventure, and so do we.
You love to dance and you get to bouncing and swinging around whenever you hear music. Tonight you figured out that you could make yourself dizzy by spinning in circles. You spent the longest time spinning and giggling and falling down, then getting up and doing it over again.
You are learning so much every day and your vocabulary is just exploding. You can say all different parts of the body: Eye, nose, ear, toes, foot, belly. You know one and two. You are getting better about using the sign for thank you when we give you things. You love to give hugs and kisses, and you warn us that we are going to get a kiss by announcing it first. And you are so loving and sweet to your dolls and stuffed animals. You give them hugs and kisses, and rock them and sing and talk to them. You try to share your cookies and water with them too. You are becoming such a sweet little girl.
You bring so much joy to our lives. Being your mother makes me want to be a better person. You inspire me.
I just joined an online challenge called 21*5*800 hosted by Bindu Wiles. 21 days. 5 days of yoga per week. 800 words per day.
I am so excited about this challenge.
The group is actually on day 4 of the challenge and I just got started. I’m just going to start where the group is, then add a few extra days at the end, probably just picking up the prompts I dropped from the first few days.
I’ve already decided that I while I intend to write my 800 words every day, I probably won’t share all of it, although I may share a portion. I want to get into a daily writing, and yoga, practice. I want to be able to be honest in my writing, and I have learned that I have to be much too careful about what I publish in this format. That said, today’s topic is relevant: Fear.
Fear
Fear has become a big part of my life since my breast cancer diagnosis. Fear of death? Certainly. Fear of pain? Oh, yes. Fear of being a burden on my family? Absolutely. Fear of the effects of my cancer on my one year old daughter? Terrifying.
I have found that the yoga helps. I’ve learned to breathe through the movements: the tough stretches, holding a challenging pose. That practice transfers to the uncomfortable and painful procedures. A deep breath and long slow exhale as I endure the poking and prodding makes all the difference. The pain is still there, but it is a bit more manageable. Focusing on my breath takes my focus away from the pain.
Fear takes me out of the present and puts me into the future – a future that is unknowable, yet my imagination tries it’s best to find every worst case scenario. Pain forces me into right now – so does my yoga practice. When I’m in now, what might happen doesn’t matter. Every moment has an infinity of possible outcomes.
When I’m seized by anxiety or panic, the yogic breathing can settle me down. Cleansing breath: long, slow exhale opens up more space in the lungs for a deeper, fuller inhale. Raise the arms to expand the chest, then slowly lower them as I exhale. Before I know it, I’m focusing more on how my body feels and improving this critical function. The fear is still there, but it is a bit more manageable. Focusing on my breath takes my focus away from the fear.
That’s not to say that fear is unwarranted. I have an aggressive form of breast cancer that has spread to the lymph nodes, complicated by another rare form of cancer that has a pretty grim prognosis. This is not something I can ignore or wish away. I also cannot focus only on the present. I am submitting myself to these procedures and chemotherapy, sacrificing my comfort and well being in the present, because I fear what will happen if I don’t, and in hope of improving my well being in the future.
This is my 500th post in this blog. Who knew I had that much to say?
Still I sit here thinking about writing another post and I’m torn; I have so much to say, too much actually.
I wonder about over-sharing, about letting my battle with cancer consume my blog the way it has consumed my life.
I wonder about how this blog will change over the coming year.
I miss the frivolous, light-hearted posts I used to write; my monthly letters to my daughter have taken on a new significance in the past couple months.
I’ve been reading over some of my favorite posts, and in honor of my 500 posts, I thought I’d share a few of them here
20 Year High School Class Reunion
Contemplating my high school class reunion and how connecting with my old classmates on Facebook changed my attitude towards attending.
Pregnancy 101: How to Roll Over
Sometimes a pregnant woman in bed feels (and looks) like a beached whale. Sometimes she needs to roll over. Sometimes the results are disastrous.
I feel pretty
Self image is such a complicated issue for young women. I contemplate what makes me feel pretty, and how to help my daughter negotiate these issues as she grows up.
Influence
Do you pick up an accent when you visit the South? Is your mood affected by anyone else’s mood? What influences you? What influences you on a subconscious level? How do we teach our children to manage their influnces?
Pregnancy
Pregnancy isn’t all bloating, and waddling, and strange cravings. Pregnancy can make you feel Amazing.
Dear Baby Girl
A note to my daughter, written before she was born.
A Blessing
A stranger appears, blesses us, and vanishes. One of the coolest moments of my life.
What Fuels Your Vote?
Whenever you take sides on a political issue, how do you come to your decision? Once the decision is made, do you have peace in your heart, or fear?
One Year Later
My father taught us a lot about living, the most powerful lesson came to me at his funeral.
Patience
Sometimes getting the perfect shot can be frustrating and take quite a bit of patience.
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