My Two Cents

Cancer, Round 1

I promised you a look at the strange things that go on in my mind. Brace yourself! This can be a scary place.

CANCER, ROUND 1 – 1997

Found a lump, went to the doctor, had a mammogram, visited another doctor in Pittsburgh (2 hours away), back to Pittsburgh for a surgical biopsy, back for another visit, Cancer diagnosis, lumpectomy, then 9 weeks of daily radiation treatments. The whole 3-4 months was a blur of exhaustion and fear.

Every time I looked at my kids, I was terrified that I would die and they would be split up forever. Danielle was safely into her own adult life, but she wasn’t in a position to take custody of Jess and Rick. Jess is from my first marriage, Rick from my second. They would be torn apart and I wouldn’t be there to comfort or protect them. Just remembering that time takes my breath away and makes my whole body shake.

The ordeal changed us. Worry and fear had driven the laughter from our lives.

Through those months, Jess and I were frantically busy. I was either working, running off for treatments, or sleeping. Jess was going to school, working part-time, and trying to keep the house together and all of us fed and in clean clothes.

Rick, 11, became withdrawn. He went quiet, concentrating on his video games, TV shows, and martial arts classes. He didn’t want to bother Jess or I, so he tried to become invisible. He started sleepwalking, and quietly cried himself to sleep at night.

Jess, 17, took over being head of household. She skipped a lot of school (which I didn’t find out until years later) and ran with her friends during the day. It was easy. She told her teachers she had to take me to treatments, and they would give her homework assignments and extra days to get them done. They were all very understanding.

Once school let out, she came home to feed Rick, make sure I got home from treatments, went to work as a waitress, brought home food for me, cleaned the house, did laundry, etc. If she went out on weekends, she took Rick with her. Several times she did drive me to treatments, because I got to the place where I was too exhausted to make the trip myself. She was strong and tough, and didn’t want to scare Rick or I into thinking she wasn’t able to handle it. She started having headaches, and quietly cried herself to sleep at night.

I was consumed with staying alive. I got up every morning, went to work until 2, drove an hour to the hospital, had a radiation treatment, drove an hour home, went to sleep on the recliner. Some nights, I slept in the chair because I was too tired to climb the stairs to my bedroom.

I was so exhausted I felt drugged all the time. Toward the end of my treatments, I would pull off the road on the way home and nap, because I couldn’t keep my eyes open to drive home. That’s when I started looking for people to drive me, so I could sleep on the ride home. I didn’t want the kids to know how scared I was, for fear it would scare them. I realize now that part of the exhaustion was from the treatments, but part of it was depression. I quietly cried myself to sleep at night.

How much easier things would have been if we had talked! But we created our roles and played them out. We were all tough, and we could handle anything…or kill ourselves trying.

One night toward the end of my treatments, Rick couldn’t take anymore. He got out of bed and crossed the hall to my room. Jess heard him, thought he was sleepwalking, and got up to catch him and steer him back to bed. She joined him at my door. I was crying into my pillow and didn’t hear either of them. Hand in hand, they came in and crawled into bed with me. The three of us didn’t talk, but huddled up and cried together. The isolation was over. We fell asleep together, and that was probably the best night’s sleep any of us had had for months.

Hmmm…apparently I’m writing a memoir here. Tune in next time for the aftermath of Round 1.

Labels: breast cancer, depression, family, fear

posted by Audrey Shaffer @ 10:15 PM