When someone
has cancer,
the whole family
& everyone who
loves them does
too.
A good friend of Ryan's recently reached out to him asking if he had any advice to offer on his wife's recent recurrence with cancer. Ryan's answer to him brought me to tears and touched my heart in so many ways that I asked him if I could share it. Because I think of how hard this cancer journey has been for Ryan everyday and know that this man is my rock and that I would not be here today, without him. So take a second and read through this and have your heart touched and be reminded that we are all in this together.
Ryan writes....
First, that sucks.
That sucks for her. That sucks for you. That
sucks for your families. It just sucks. Anyone who says otherwise
is an asshole.
Second, you already know what she needs.
Your presence
Your patience, even when she is
cranky/bitchy/unreasonable/bat-shit-crazy
Your help in fighting the evil-soulless-mother-fuckers who
work at the insurance company
A hug at random times
Occasional love notes left in the bathroom that tell her
she’s sexy
For you to tell her that you are 100% confident that
everything will be fine, even when you aren’t sure and she knows you are lying
(especially if you aren’t sure and she knows that you are lying!)
To drive around together with the windows down singing at
the top of your lungs to obnoxious 90’s music. If you aren’t sure where
to start, I recommend “Baby Got Back” by Sir Mix-a-Lot.
Chocolate ice cream at midnight (the good shit that costs $8
for a small container)
To get angry at cancer. Buy matching “fuck cancer”
clothing (https://store.letsfcancer.com/)
And wear it around proudly. When strangers in public give you the
“knowing nod” give them the nod back. When strangers in public give you a
nasty look for wearing clothing with a naughty word on it, allow yourself to
think, “Fuck you for being more offended at cuss words than you are at human
suffering!” Feel a little self-righteous. You earned it.
Spontaneous date nights. Spend as much as you can.
If you can’t afford nice, still go on date-night, even if it is to the
Mexican joint on the corner that serves $1 draft beer and $3 heartburn
appetizers from 3-4:30pm on Mon-Thur.
To know that you will be by her side no matter what happens
(nausea, hair loss, surgeries, etc.). To know that there is not a single
possible scenario in the whole fucking universe where you aren’t right by her
side. She is going to need this frequently and at random moments and in
different ways (tell her verbally, write it down, learn fucking sign language
or hire a pilot to fly around with a banner in the sky if you have to).
Third, you already know what you need to do to make
sure you have the stamina to go the distance (because marathons are for
pussies).
Eat healthy (except the midnight ice cream) even when you
just want to eat a whole fucking funnel-cake by yourself because “What the fuck
does it matter anyways?”
Exercise even when it seems irrelevant
Get sleep, even when you have an endless list of things that
have to get done
Don’t overwork yourself, even if it is your coping mechanism
Fourth, find meaning.
Victor Frankl (psychologist who survived 4 concentration
camps and wrote “Man’s search for meaning”) said, “Suffering ceases to be
suffering at the moment it finds meaning. Such is the meaning of
sacrifice.”
It isn’t for me to find your meaning. You have to do
it on your own.
Maybe you feel closer to God/Allah/Krishna. Maybe you
look up into the night sky, see a hundred billion stars, and smile. Maybe
you watch a romantic comedy and say, “That’s my fucking life.” Maybe you
feel mortality in a way that few people our age do and you stand around with the
fucking tourists and gawk at the stupid cherry blossoms, because they are super
cliché, but they are actually pretty fucking beautiful. Maybe you feel
like a knight storming the fucking castle to rescue the beautiful
princess—which makes you feel like a bad-ass until you start to feel silly and
childish, but then you say to yourself, “If I want to feel like a fucking
knight on a white steed, I’m going to feel like a
fucking-dragon-slaying-damsel-rescuing knight!!!” Maybe you watch your wife sleep and time stops for an hour, leaving you grateful that you found each
other in this big crazy world.
You can’t really go looking for meanings (such is the nature
of meaning). You can only accept it, as the gift it is. Don’t fight
it. And never feel guilty for it. Just put out your hands and
accept the sunlight as it overflows off your hands.
But, a warning: Your wife has to find her own
meaning. Your meaning is yours alone…. And hers is only for her.
Don’t try to force yours upon her. And when she tries to share her
meaning, just smile and nod even if you don’t know what the fuck she’s talking
about.
Fifth, don’t forget to breathe.
I mean—LITERALLY—don’t forget to breathe.
Finally, know that I’m lobbing
cancer-busting-hand-grenade prayers your way.
I asked God to send down a legion of black-ops-archangels to
wage fucking jihad against those mutating cells. If you see 10-foot tall
glowing beings with wings (and bullet-proof vests) forming a perimeter around
your house, that was from me.
peace,
Ryan
To my amazing husband, I love you and thank you for always allowing me to find my way, in my own time, with you always by my side.
