The C Word – The Toll of Cancer

These past few months have been sombering.  The shadows creep in and out day after day.  No matter what we try to do, clouds hover close by.  We are way past the bargaining stage of grief.  Long gone are the “if I survive this I will do xyz”.  We aren’t in denial of what is happening though we would love to be able to do this. 

Our initial shock of diagnosis has morphed into a weary sense of survival.  Of living in a moment in time.  Of trying to make the best of a bad situation.  Four years – four long years of battling this enemy.  We tire of the question “how are you?”.  The response will always depend on who we are talking to.  For some it is “fine”, for others it is “surviving”, and yet for others it may be “just so so” or “not great”.  A sympathetic pat on the shoulder, an empathetic hug, a loss for words. 

This past year has taken its’ toll on us physically and emotionally.  Unable to make plans and, if we take a risk to make a plan to do something in the back of our mind is “what if”.  What if George isn’t feeling well?  What if he ends up in the hospital?  What if, what if….?  Always a backup plan in the backs of our minds.  We sometimes have to respond with – “I won’t know until the actual day of the event… we are a definite maybe.” 

In the past few weeks George has had a couple of bouts of blockages – temporary but painful.  So far we have been able to manage them at home – rest, fluids, sleep and sometimes medication.  The mere fact that there have been two within a two week period is a bit disconcerting.  The mere fact that both occurred when there were celebrations planned made it worse.  The celebrations went on – but without George being able to participate in any real way.

I believe it is because of this and the fact that no holidays or celebrations went off without a hitch that I became a bit wary and weary of Christmas this year.  My heart doesn’t feel like celebrating too much.  I worry that it will be yet another holiday that is tempered by George not feeling well. 

George and I had a discussion about this.  Would it be possible to ask the family to make a change in how we celebrate?  Can we ask them to celebrate with us on a date other than December 25^th?  That way they have a better chance of having fun than if we did the same routine we’ve been doing for 15 years.  We need to do this.  We need to take the focus off of us and onto our children and grandchildren.

I sent a message to the three girls asking them to consider the plan of having our family celebration before the holiday and explained to them why.  There are other advantages to doing this – their kids can stay home and enjoy their new gifts without uprooting quickly after opening in order to go somewhere else.  They all responded that they could do this.  But for one it is not easy to digest. 

It’s not a decision that was made lightly.  But it is a decision that makes sense for where we are in this point in time.  George wants peace, quiet.  He has little energy these days and holidays can be especially hard on him.  If he’s not feeling well, he feels bad that he spoiled the day for others.  We need to take the emphasis off of the holiday. 

As parents, we know that change is inevitable.  Quite frankly, I am utterly amazed that we have had our children and grandchildren with us every Christmas up to this point.  Other families with the same type of logistics as us have already made adjustments to how they celebrate.  It is not uncommon for families to do their traditional activities on a day other than the actual holiday.  I so love that my children have been willing to do this even when it has not been easy to do so.  So asking them to change was difficult. 

Change is hard.  Accepting the fact that cancer changes things is hard.  Knowing that this could possibly the last Christmas with George is very hard.  If he is still around next year, his health will be incredibly compromised by cancer.  It is hard for us - - but harder yet for our children.  They aren’t here day in and day out as we watch what has happened to George.  They see it for bits and pieces of time when they come.  They have had more glimpses of it recently as they’ve been here when George was having some bad days. 

None of us like this.  None of us want it to be this way.  But as I told the girls, it is what it is.  We can hope and pray for a miracle – but we need to be prepared that the answer could be “no”.  We hate that word.  We’ve hated that word since we were young children.  God doesn’t always answer the way we want him to.  “Thy way” not “my way” says the Lords Prayer.  Our job during this time is to hang on to our faith – and hang on to the hope that God has a plan for us and that when it is time for any one of us to go, that God and Jesus are waiting for us.  We will be free from any earthly pains we may have. 

The toll of cancer.  It changes the way we think and move and breathe.  It affects our relationships.  It permeates every aspect of life and forever changes us.