The fear
NET cancer haunts my life.
I realized that over the last two days. I spent last week visiting friends. When I was younger I called their home “The House of Healing.” I met them when I was broken, mentally and emotionally. Eventually, I was broken physically as well. My early 20s were not kind to me. My late 50s were even more unkind. Jane’s slow decline chewed a hole in my soul.
So I spent last week healing. My friends let me talk. They reminded me I was human and helped me begin to come to terms with what happened two years ago. By the end of the visit I felt like I could breathe again–that though the work before me is heavy, it is work I can handle.
The return
Putting the yoke back on my shoulders, though, is difficult. I spent a week not writing and not constantly thinking about the needs of others. I put NET cancer on the shelf for a time. I focussed on my self. It was a good thing–the right thing–to do for those few days. I realized just how close I was to breaking down–how much pressure I had put on myself–how much I had hurt myself. I worry that getting back in the traces will put me right back where I was.
…(we do) a better job preparing women to become widows
than men to become widowers.
Part of the problem grew out of guilt. In the back of my mind has been the constant feeling that I let Jane down–that her death was because I had failed as a caregiver and a husband–that even at the end I made too many poor decisions that only extended her suffering. The logical part of my mind knows better, but the emotional mind is not controlled by rational thought.
The expectations issue
One friend reminded me that our culture does a better job preparing women to become widows than men to become widowers. In general, women outlive the men in their lives. They expect to find themselves alone. That was our expectation, too. My family’s history of heart disease and my own ongoing wrestling match with cholesterol underlined that multiple times. I was the one taking serious medications, not Jane. We expected our roles to be the opposite of what they turned out to be.
The story of her life–and of its end–fuels me.
But NET cancer is insidious. It is hard to diagnose. It gets little funding. The research is years behind that of other cancers. For 30 years it gnawed on her innards undetected. And when it was finally discovered there was little anyone could do but ease her way to death.
Not that we didn’t try to fight it. We did. We threw everything the medical establishment could dream up at it–and some things they had not thought to try until Jane arrived. But it was not enough.
A pleasant dream
I dreamed of Jane last week and again this morning. We walked through a birch forest together. We did not say much. We did not need to. Just being together was enough. There was a deep peacefulness to it . For the first time in a long time there was no terror in it–or longing. We were content.
Putting the yoke back on my shoulders, though, is difficult.
In this world, I am not content. NET cancer is a nasty foe. Jane and I said we would beat this thing–if not for her, then for others. We both believed that the good of the many outweighs the good of the few–or the one. The story of her life–and of its end–fuels me.
Together, we battled NET cancer. In the end, together, we will defeat NET cancer.
Marathon Walk Update
My hat, bib and t-shirt for the Marathon Walk arrived in today’s mail. I am #146. I have no idea how numbers are assigned.
Some time last week my two Pacesetter Stars arrived. I have earned a third star, unofficially, and hope that by September 9 I will have qualified for the fourth one. That, however, will require that I earn as much between now and then as I have raised to this point. My goal for this week is to get past the $6000 mark, which means getting at least another $900 between now and Friday.
If you have not yet made a donation, now would be a good time. With your help we can make NET cancer history. All funds I raise go to fight NET cancer.
