The past two weeks I had some interesting conversations about endometrial cancer and my journey. I just wanted to write about them primarily because I am still processing those conversations.
A woman had her hysterectomy 45 years ago. I sat down with her over a delicious lunch and we talked about our surgical experience. She said she suspected that she had cancer in her uterus or something because her doctor said that she had abnormal growth that should have not been inside "down there". He did not discuss details other than that she needed a hysterectomy. Her husband, on the other hand, had colon cancer. Cancer was a word that was used comfortably when it came to other parts of the body. When cancer affects private parts, people do not discuss it, period. Times have changed, indeed. However, I still meet people who are surprised by how 'brave' I am to openly discuss the cancer that impacted my reproductive system and private parts. I do it for the sake of spreading awareness. The other day, I met an eastern European woman who said she had stage 1 cancer "down there". I was thrilled to meet a young woman who dealt with something like I did. I asked more questions. She brushed away my questions and said, "It's been taken care of." I wanted to ask how. She wouldn't disclose. I told her I had cancer and had surgery too. She still wouldn't discuss further. I think this type of cancer continues to be taboo for many.
A man posted in a Facebook group that I am part of, saying that his wife was diagnosed with endometrial cancer. He asked what they can expect going forward. Mike piped in. Yay, Mike.
"Be incredibly supportive and sensitive to the turmoil-ish feelings that your wife is about to endure. This IS happening to her.
Her confusion, anger, depression, and whatever other feelings she may endure... is valid.
Be prepared to make oncologist visits a part of your life routine.
Most of all... listen and love her. Her life just turned upside down. Yours too.
Sending you both our best during your new journey."
Reading this from Mike's perspective was touching. It's like Mike's telling him to be a team player rather than watching his wife from the sideline deal with the whole thing. At the same time, I am saddened by the stark reality that oncologist visits have become part of my life routine, namely... my new normal. The other day, a friend asked me, "How is your new normal?" I responded, "I am still figuring that out."
The new routine was precisely the reason why the director of the Annapolis Wellness House said I should come and participate in their activities. Annapolis Wellness House is a godsend gem. Our landlady, upon learning about my cancer, recommended that I check this place out. It's a gorgeous 1870's house on a horse ranch. They offer a place for cancer patients, cancer survivors, and family to sit, read, and converse with others. They offer free yoga, Pilates, crafts classes and many more. I hesitated to go because my ride with the cancer was a brief one-- hormone therapy did not work. Now... surgery. And I am cancer-free for now. I told her I did not know if I deserved to go. She said that if I have to see an oncologist for the rest of my life, then I qualify. The center's philosophy is that cancer patients become survivors the day they are diagnosed. I kept on beating the bush. She said to come when I was ready. I finally went last week with Mike supporting me. We loved the place and the people.
Mike and I talked on a walk together yesterday... he said that it was really nice to be able to talk about us and our life together again because we had been dealing with this cancer for a few months. Yep. Cancer can suck a lot of your time and attention. Thank you, Mike... for being such a supportive partner the past few months. I look forward to just living our lives. Onward.
No comments:
Post a Comment