There are a lot of things one goes through being diagnosed with cancer. Disbelief, pain, shock, pain and a lot of worry.
So a good stable marriage should be able to cope. And yet, which seems like a moment in time, everything you thought was perfect has been picked up, bended and spilled out in some unrecognisable mess.
We are only in the initial weeks of knowing, and as of yet my husband has not made a decision on the course of treatment. And when you hear the words you can survive this, you think yes, we can do this. It isn’t until you realise with prostate cancer, survival has a different meaning. And your husband doesn't think survival is quite as ‘good’ as it seems.
To support someone with cancer is extremely emotional. You hurt for them, you hurt for yourself. Will they survive, won’t they. And never will I say any one cancer doesn't come with a whole world of turmoil or is worse than another. Because wow it can turn your world upside down.
However, I can only talk about what is becoming a reality to me. Now I love my husband. He is not perfect and nor am I. He is not quite PC, he doesn’t talk about emotions, and he thinks a sense of humour is about winding people up. Forgive him or not he is mine, by choice, by marriage and love.
But being 49 and there is no reason he shall not see many more birthdays, it is the decisions you have to make, the risks and complications you may endure. You see, men are rather attached to their penises. Although I see us as (even though he doesn’t like the term) ‘best friends’ I haven’t quite got the relationship he has with his true friend! And as soon as you talk about certain treatments with certain complications it is like opening Pandora ’s Box.
Now I have had the need to talk, share my fears, my tears and pain. I know it is not my genitals we are talking about, and ultimately he is going thought some kind of emotional crap at the moment I cannot possible understand. But if he cries, I cry. I see the pain and I hurt, and I am helpless and as frightened as him.
So the reason for me to share, he will not talk, to friends, family, strangers, or even me. Slowly he is opening up. But as soon as I say the wrong thing, the door is closed, bolted and barricaded. I think it might even be chained!
‘Why would I want another person knowing I have cancer, what possible benefit or support can anyone offer? All you do is worry them, then on top of an emotional roller coaster you are going through, you have the added worry that your mum is upset, your dad is devastated, your friends feel sorry for you and strangers whisper.’
And my heart goes out to this train of thought. Maybe men are proud, embarrassed or ashamed, so many words to describe how one is feeling, yet none of which really explain how to deal with this awful, sad, disease.
I have talked to friends. Not all, some I only just met and don’t know john, it is easier that way. But a couple really close friends. They have been a pillar of support and strength. I have broken, got up dusted myself off, used humour and broken again. But we will get through this even if we drag each other kicking and screaming.
I may not be a perfect partner, I may not say the right thing at the right time, like ‘isn’t it a lovely spring day, first day we have felt the warmth of the sun?’ Didn’t quite get the round of applause I was hoping for as I tried to find something nice to say about that day.
But I will support, I will listen, I will cry, and although he is beside himself I talk to people, I need too, because there are days the sun doesn’t rise, there is no light and I feel like I am screaming inside. And if I feel like this, only God knows what he is feeling.
So, we will find, or he will find the right treatment, we will get through this, it may be painful both emotionally and via any treatments, he/we may encounter physical problems, we may shout at each other, we may laugh and hug a lot, but together we will beat cancer.
Tx
