From the first moment my wife discovered
she had breast cancer, there was a deafening silence from the men I know. Even
ones whose wives, mothers or girlfriends had breast cancer seemed to have
received a gag order from some Central Cancer Command and did little more than
mumble about the experience. Not one to shut up for any known reason, I started
this blog…That was four years ago – as time passed, people searching for
answers stumbled across my blog and checked out what I had to say. The
following entry appeared in August of 2012.
The world of
breast cancer continues to grow smaller and smaller.
At a wedding we
attended a few weeks ago held on Spirit Mountain in Duluth, a former student of
mine wh0 has become a friend came up to us as we were leaving for the three
hour drive home. He and I embraced as I got teary eyed again, then he embraced
my wife and whispered in her ear. Then he got back to the groom business of
greeting everyone else.
As we walked to
the car, my wife said, “He whispered, ‘Keep on fighting’.”
A few days
later, my wife asked me to ask him what he meant.
His reply: “My
grandmother fought it for 15 years, in the end it was too much, but she never
stopped fighting!!! Those 15 years, though hard fought, allowed her so many
joys! [My new wife] also wishs to express her regards. All things are
possible!”
Different story, shrinking world: two nights ago, we went
to a dinner theater in celebration of 25 years of marriage. My wife booked us a
“pot luck” table – which means that there were six seats forming one table, so
that we would be sitting with four others we’d never met before.
Ours were the center seats, across from each other.
Shortly the others arrived and there were introductions all around and we began
to chit chat pleasantly. Dinner ended, the show began then paused for a 20
minute Dessert Intermission. Chatting some more, the woman next to my wife
asked about the layered athletic bandages on her arm. My wife explained they
were for lymphedema treatment due to breast cancer.
The woman began an animated monologue explaining that she
was a massage therapist and frequently worked with breast cancer survivors
experiencing lymphedema.
The disease is everywhere. It seems that “everyone knows
someone” who is being treated for or who has survived breast cancer. It makes
for a small community; it makes for sympathy and strength all around.
It’s a GOOD thing that has happened despite the horror
that brought it about, and so I rejoice that my wife continues to be a survivor
with a powerful word!
