We hope that the departed are in some place better.  We are left with our memories and our wondering of what might have been.  And we are left more sensitive and more fearful to what cancer means and we can get much more personally familiar with it.  Not necessarily what we want.

People support us, lift our spirits and help to define our own lives to some extent.  The death of someone who you know can force you to question your own immortality, which can be good or bad depending on the individual.

But friends and loved ones who die can also inspire us and their memories can comfort us.  The memories of my father do that for me.

Who do you remember and do you handle it?

Let’s talk……..

Posted by Doug

I mention this because it is very difficult to find people to talk about how you feel, how you can cope, or to talk through the difficult decision-making process around treatment. Some of us have “cancer buddies” or support groups or just plain good-old-friends who seem to understand. These confidants don’t have to be doctors or even know very much about cancer. All they really need is the capacity to listen and the ability to empathize. Most of the time, we just need to talk things out and it is the talking that is therapeutic. But talking to someone who isn’t listening, who isn’t opening their heart to yours, just doesn’t cut it.

The world needs more listeners, more empathizers, more people like Rob Buckman. If you have friends or loved ones who have cancer, please remember that all it takes is a willingness to listen and an open heart. Reach out to them. Be a true friend.

Rob tells me I’m handling things “perfectly”. Maybe I am (although there are times I wonder) but it made me feel good to hear him say it. He is a good listener and I am honored to call him my friend.

Posted by Doug

Well, that is not the case for people diagnosed with cancer. One of the most profound and disturbing impacts of having cancer is that we are forced to face our own mortality. And once you realize that you can die (possibly much sooner than you thought), you need to face the question of what to do with the time you have left. I’ve just started reading Randy Pausch’s The Last Lecture (having seen it on YouTube and on Oprah). Randy, in his late 40’s is dying of pancreatic cancer and chose to spend his last days spending as much time with his family as possible and in delivering his last lecture on realizing dreams. He has done an admirable job of leaving an incredible legacy for his young children and in teaching an important lesson to the rest of us. I must admit that I feel quite emotional reading his story because, while I’m not in the same boat (with months to live), I can certainly relate.

I find that each day is much more important to me now that I’m living with cancer. While I would prefer to have all my time available to spend with my family and doing the things that I love, I can’t really do that. I need to work because I have a responsibility to ensure my family (my wife especially) can live comfortably if I’m not around. But it also gives me a sense of dignity to be able to continue working and doing a good job. My dear wife thinks I am obsessive (like my mother) because I’m always doing something, but I just feel that things need to be done and I need to be doing them. Does that make sense? Who knows? It’s just the way I am and I know that I’m like that partially because I don’t want to leave things undone. But, if I’m honest with myself, it may be partly because I just don’t know what else to do.

What do you do with the rest of your life? Maybe it doesn’t really matter as long as you are doing something you find productive and comfortable. Maybe living in the moment is just living.

Posted by Doug

I don’t really need to talk about it all the time, because I know that they care, but I know that it is on everyone’s mind. They want to say something, but they don’t know what to say, so it goes unsaid.  And while we enjoy our time together, laughing and reminiscing, all that is unspoken hangs in the air.  My wife calls it the elephant in the room.

All we really need is for our loved ones to ask, “How are you doing?” That is enough to show their concern and interest and leaves it to us to decide what to say and how much to say.  We can dive right in if that’s what we feel we want or need, or we can keep it short and sweet.  That takes the pressure off of everyone.  It doesn’t require more than that.

We are all in this together and we need to be open and communicate.  It is always tough to know what to say, but all you really need to do is ask.

Posted by Doug

Now, getting this kind of news alone can really bum you out, but they suggested I come back in another 3 months because, in a small number of cases, the PSA can take longer to drop. You might think this is good, but it really isn’t because it can create another long, depressing period of uncertainty and, even worse, give false hope.  But this isn’t going to be the case with me because I have educated myself thoroughly and I know what the odds are. And I’ve had lots of time (since my recurrence 6 months ago) to think about all the possibilities and likelihoods and come to grips with it.

It sucks, but it is what it is and I have to get on with life. And that means living each day to its fullest and learning how to be more than this disease. There is no cure beyond the unsuccessful treatments that I have already tried (surgery & radiation) but there are things I can do to slow it down. That means that I can fight it knowing that each year I get increases the chance that something new will be developed to give me even more time.

This is a good place to be and I want to enjoy it for as long as I can.

Posted by Doug

I have been coping with the wait by working hard…..keeping busy, knowing that my subconscious mind was chewing on the “what if’s”. It’s been okay, really. Most of the shock of recurrence and the fear of the possibilities assaulted my peace and self-confidence when I was re-diagnosed. I haven’t really accepted it, but I have learned to live with it (I think). I’ll know better how I have really handled it after my appointment next week. But after doing all that I could to learn my options and take action, there really isn’t anything else I can do. It becomes all about coping and adapting…. learning to live with cancer. At times I feel it has made me stronger and at times I wonder if I am strong enough.

Wish me luck.

Posted by Doug

This blog strives to help people understand the emotional impact of cancer so that they can be supportive and give strength to their friends and loved ones with cancer. For cancer survivors and those with cancer, it can show that they are not alone and they can derive strength from others who have been in their shoes.

I believe that anyone faced with a life-threatening illness experiences many of the same emotional stresses but that over-reaching specter of cancer adds another dimension by enveloping everyone close to us with a shared fear. This is why knowledge and understanding are so important. The doctors can fight the physical disease but we ourselves must fight the emotional disease by being open about what we are feeling and by helping others understand.

Cancer is not always a death sentence. It can be if it isn’t treated, but more than half the people diagnosed and treated will survive, some with little or no residual effect (at least physically). Rob Buckman discusses this in his book, Cancer is a word, not a sentence, by clearly explaining the impacts and outcomes of the different cancers.  If we can better understand this and help others to understand, perhaps we can lessen the emotional stress and the pervasive feeling of gloom that prevents us from dealing with it in a more realistic way.

So read through all of the posts and comments on this site and visit the links we have posted, and follow the links on those sites.  Read the books that are recommended and lend them to your friends and family.  There are many of us out here who want to help.  Post your comments so we can all benefit from your experience and insight.

Let’s talk.

Posted by Doug

Dianne attended the visitation with several of the “girls” who had known this lady. She was sad at her passing, but it struck a much deeper cord because of her worry over my recurrence and what that could mean. It personalized it much more than her other friends realized and she came home under a dark cloud that held on for several days. I had thought of going with her that night, partly for support , but also as a sign of respect for the bravery of a fellow cancer patient, a short-term survivor but a survivor nonetheless. Dianne told me to stay home that night and I’m sorry to say that I am glad I did. Apparently, the family had chosen to have an open casket and the poor woman… well… she looked like she had died of cancer. It was an honorable thing for the family to do but it was harder for Dianne to see her that way because it vividly displayed the physical tole that cancer can have. And I’m sure that, in her mind’s eye, she could see me at some future date.

I’m glad I wasn’t there, and I’m sorry to say that. While I’m doing pretty well with my own situation, I think it would have brought back a lot of feelings that I have managed to get past. It might have scared me. As strong as I am, there is always fear and I don’t want to die before my time.

Rest in peace, Gail.

Posted by Doug

What is most telling, though, is that I felt the need to mask my identity. I am a professional with a job, a family to support and responsibilities. Coping with cancer on top of all of this is hard enough, but I was frankly worried about how a recurrence could impact my career now and in the future. It is unfortunately true that many people, upon hearing that you have cancer, automatically think of you as sick and dying. Yes, it can impact your work while you are being treated and while you are dealing with the emotional shock of a diagnosis but, for the vast majority of us, we can very quickly get back to work. We may have to do it part-time for awhile, particularly if our jobs are physical, but we can still work.

The cancer survivors that I know are some of the strongest people I have ever met. If you can handle a major life crisis like cancer and survive, I would argue that you can handle just about anything. That’s certainly how I feel about myself and how I think about anyone with cancer. I wish everyone thought that.

In my case, both with my initial diagnosis and also with my recent recurrence, I have been pleasantly surprised at the response. Telling people at work hasn’t hurt me at all and I am infinitely thankful for the support I have received. I wish everyone was so understanding.

I am a survivor and I am strong.

Posted by Doug

We got our older dog about three and a half years ago. At the time, about a year after my diagnosis and treatment, I felt that I needed a “therapy dog”. The idea was that a dog would give me something to focus on that was totally stress free.  And it worked!  Since my cancer, I have been working hard to live life to the fullest and, while it is a journey, I am making progress. But it does takes work and the stresses of day-to-day living, my career, and the always-there fear of recurrence can take their toll. Often, down-time is hard to find, especially for Type A personalities who always have to be doing something (like blogging). It’s a well-known phenomenon that pets have a calming effect on their owners so that alone is a good thing for stressed-out cancer survivors, but the other thing is that pets (if you love them) require a lot of attention and that takes your attention away from everything else.  Taking them for walks, feeding them, grooming them or just playing with them allows you to focus on nothing but them.  No matter what I’m doing, if it’s with a dog, I’m not thinking about work or cancer, or anything else.  I just feel good.  And if I’m feeling down, cuddling with my dog makes everything seem wonderful.

When I die, I want to come back as a dog in a loving home.

Posted by Doug (dedicated to Maggie)