Cancer Patients Helping Cancer Patients

I know this may sound odd, but one of the things that has me a little down lately is a get well card I received yesterday.  Not the card itself, the card was very touching and nice.  What has kind of gotten me down is how cancer patients go through their battles.

One of the people I worked with, when I had a job, started her own cancer fight before I left, a fight much, much tougher than mine.  I had the best intentions of sending her a card.  I bought it, thought about what I wanted to say, then I was laid off, and alas, her address is sitting in my work e-mail (which I don't have access to) and I never sent it.  (That makes me part of the problem that I will talk about later.)  I haven't made it a big point to tell people that I used to work with that I'm battling cancer, because I don't want a pity party.  I told some close friends from work, and I know it has gotten spread around my former office, which I am fine with.  I would be even more fine if they took up a big collection and bought me an American made Paul Reed Smith with double cutaway and twenty-four frets (it can even be a used one).  So, I wasn't surprised that this person in her own cancer fight found out that I was in a fight of my own.  What surprised me is in the middle of her cancer fight, she took the time to get me a card, go through some channels to get my address, and send it to me.  I certainly do have people that support me and have sent touching cards, e-mails, and other shows of support.  Heck, if you are reading this right now you are helping me whether you realize it or not.  But this person's card touched me for two reasons.

As a cancer patient, you get so caught up in and focused on treatment and getting well.  Your life revolves around doctors' appointments and treatment plans.  I had one of the biggest events of my life just happen to me (which I will blog about later) and when we were pinpointing the timing, we said, "It was between my diagnosis and my surgery."  Then we go to the calendar to look up the dates.  Today we went to the theater and my wife said, "Oh, that movie opens chemo day".  She said it as smoothly as she would have said "Saturday" or "Labor Day".  Which for some reason makes me wonder, if you can't wear white after Labor Day, what can't you wear after Chemo Day?  Or maybe it's the other way around, after Chemo Day you wear hats and wigs.  Sorry, the affects of the insomnia have been making my thoughts wander.  The point I was getting at, the cancer takes front and center and you forget other things, other events, other people, even other aspects of your own life.  My birthday is not too far down the road, and my father asked me what I wanted.  I was at a loss of what to say, I had been so focused on beating this, I hadn't thought about birthdays.  I bet it took me a good twenty seconds before I was able to give him a list of what I wanted, an American made PRS guitar.  Because of this trance that cancer patients get thrown into, it was really touching that another person, currently focused on her own fight, thought about me.

Don't get me wrong, I get tons of support from others in the cancer community.  I would go as far as to say, I don't know if I could do it without them.  But most of them are survivors, or veterans (people that have been battling it for ten years or more), or unfortunately widows.  They certainly know their stuff, but they all have had time to get over the initial shock of the diagnosis that we all go through.  All of us with recent diagnoses tend to get in the information gathering mode, scouring the internet, reading tons of books and brochures, talking to every doctor, oncologist, nurse, and veterinarian that will listen to you, and listening to those that have already been through this.  Even if it is sometimes the guy that goes into great depth to tell you that despite what your doctor tells you, you should still be scared to death because he read on-line that all cancers like to hide like little snipers in bones and blood and your appendix (even if it has been removed) just waiting to jump out and give you more cancer when you least expect it.  Us newly diagnosed are usually too busy crapping our pants from fright to spend a lot of time reaching out to support others, especially if we talked to the cancer sniper guy.

The card cheered me up immensely.  Then, as they day went on, it saddened me.  Not the card or who it came from, it's much deeper than that.  The cards and e-mails have definitely slowed down (again, present company excepted, several people will e-mail me after they have read something on my blog).  I know from my own fight, yes the surgery was a big deal, but certainly not what I consider my toughest fight.  I am fretting much more about the chemo than I ever did for the operation.  The list of chemo side effects they are required to read to you sounds like they are reading the entire Physician's Desk Reference, even the parts about the parts you don't have.  I haven't heard that many side-effects since the last time I saw an erectile dysfunction drug commercial.  As you gear up for the toughest parts of your fight, the support trails off.  It's not like having a baby, or a gallbladder removed, or getting married, where there is intense pain at the beginning and then the healing starts (except for getting married, where you never heal, you just accept your fate).  Cancer treatment is constant ups and downs, physically and mentally.  No, I am not begging for cards, I am just talking about the reality for cancer patients.  Sometimes when we are ready to face our biggest battles, we have the least support in our network.  And knowing several cancer survivors, I will admit to being part of the problem sometimes.

As I go through this I am making my own vow, that from now on when someone I know gets diagnosed with cancer, I will make an effort to not just send them a card, but send them several cards and e-mails.  Because now I know, even though other people may have forgotten that you are still in the fight in your life, you are still in the fight, be it alone, or with family, or with friends, or with every friend on Facebook, even the ones you aren't sure who they are or how they got on your Friend's List.  When dealing with cancer, the more support the better.  And if anyone is taking notes, an American made PRS would sure give me a lot of support...