A Message from Someone in Cancer Care
Dear Loved One,
I don't know how to tell you this. But I have been diagnosed with cancer... Again. I know how deeply painful it is to hear. We have been down this road before. We thought it was over - the symptoms, the surgery, the chemotherapy, the worrying, and the denial.
And here we are again.
I need you to survive
One reason I am fighting through the most difficult aspects of treatment is because I love you. I don't want you to agonize about my condition. But I need you to thrive. I know it has been hard for you, as well.
You have watched me forge ahead through painful procedures and processes. If you could take them away, you would. If you could carry the entire load, you would by your strength and emotions. And I would spare you the worry if I could. But I can't.
Your presence gives me strength
I know that infinite and unconditional devotion is a lot to ask of you. Nevertheless, I am asking you to keep walking with me to wherever this journey leads. Know that I am on the road to recovery, and I need your support. I need your heart and voice to cheer me through this newest episode. Know that I am working harder than anyone to get a handle on this disease.
You have been so careful through it all. Careful to say what you think I should hear. Careful not to show your true feelings. The fear for my life. I know. I see. I see you. And I need you.
Your presence is comforting
I need your company. I crave it, even when I seem unengaged. It isn't you. It's me. It is the relentless onslaught of thoughts swirling in my head. I, too, have fears.
Some become worries. They all become constant ruminations that are often unmanageable. They may change from day to day. Perhaps moment to moment. They are entangled with the persistent, gnawing anxiety in my belly. Don't mind them, though. They are part of the process. The healing. The recovery.
It could be a long process. It may require much more than patience from us both.
Your presence is my lifeline
Patience implies suffering, sometimes long-suffering. But let us not dwell on suffering. We are more than survivors. We are more than thrivers. We are conquerors who excel beyond the circumstances of experience, even of this illness.
Whatever the destination of our journey. No matter the outcome of my recovery, we are more than survivors. We are more than thrivers. We are conquerors rising above our fears of the unknown. Surmounting every obstacle with our will to heal. With the will to live. No matter how it ends.
Keep holding me tight
Since two or more are better than one, together we will walk this strenuous path. Keep coming. Keep calling. Keep talking. Keep praying. Keep asking if I am okay.
Keep holding me tight, dear loved one.
Do friends and family ask about your bladder cancer?