WARNING: This post is about stuff people don't talk about. It contains scenes that could be offensive.
Mary and I haven't gotten out of the house together for 8 days. Mary's chemo regiment is high (strongest drugs and high dosage) and the effects are cumulative, so after round 4 a week ago last Thursday, we haven't been able to get out of the house together until yesterday. Our first trip out was to the plastic surgeon to start planning for breast reconstruction. It was exciting on a few levels. One, just to get out together. Two, the idea of moving to the forth phase of a five phase breast cancer experience.
I figure there are five phases to cancer:
Phase I - Holy shit, We have cancer: The news of this disease hits you between the eyes. It's a bombshell. You're stunned and confused and scared. You go from shock to what the f' do we do now!? Your mind races non-stop as you try to figure out and come to terms with your new reality.
Phase II - The Battle: Kill the cancer with chemotherapy. As of this post, that's the phase we're in. In this phase you have to mentally prepare yourself to fight for your life! It's us against it! You have to accept that it's gonna be tough. One of the things that gave me confidence that we could face this is that I know Mary is a strong and courageous warrior. And, I was determined to stand by her side and help her fight the fight in any way I could.
Phase III - Amputation: In a battle there are injuries. We learned early on in the battle that we're going to lose the breast.
Phase IV - Healing: Breast reconstruction is the first step in the process of getting back to normal. At least a "new normal." You're looking up and looking ahead and it feels so good!
Phase V - Live: Live life with profound appreciation of how precious it is. Live with the awareness that at any moment any one of us could have it all taken away. Live life with the recognition of what matters and what doesn't matter. We're lucky that Mary's breast cancer is hormone positive because that gives us drug options to keep the cancer from coming back!
One of the important common denominators that is helping us get through it all is humor. What's so funny about this? You'd be surprised! There's a lot of funny stuff! Seeing yourself or your wife bald can be funny. Wearing your wife's wig is funny. Watching a man draw on your wife's breast is funny. Heck, it looked like the surgeon drew eyes where here nipples are (there I said it). I'm sitting there in a room with another guy, and my wife's breasts are staring at me. Can't you see the funny in that?! Mary and I will be laughing about that experience for years to come.
I realize that it's weird and awkward to talk about this stuff. But it's real. Would you rather I talk about the economy? (Don't answer that.) Shit, Mary's last blog post was about the awful constipation she's experiencing from the chemo. Who talks about being constipated, let alone their wife's breast surgery? WE DO! We do because it's our life. If we were traveling across Europe, we'd talk about that. If we purchased a new pet we'd talk about that. But we're not doing that. What we're doing is surviving cancer!
There is as much to cry about as there is to laugh about in life. Frankly, I think either reaction is applicable to the same situation. I can cry about the doctors cutting away my wife's breasts and replacing them with a "facsimile" as he called it. Either reaction, seeing the humor and/or seeing the sad is OK!!
We are just trying to "keep it real." Keeping it real is our way of keeping it honest. It's our way of sharing our lives, which is also an invitation to our friends to share their lives with us!
