My Moon is in Cancer

The problem is cancer. Stage three colon cancer and so instead of romantic dates and lunches and vacations we have surgery and doctors offices and learning about chemo. I am lover and caregiver, but I am also a writer and fierce about what is happening to him and to me and to us. I am writing this blog to tell my side of this story. I am not objective. I am not unbiased and at times I am not a very nice person. But then, cancer is not very nice either.

I am also writing this because I hope at least one person can have their sanity confirmed by this blog. Most of the official cancer resources have tried to be helpful but there have been so many gaps and so many platitudes and so very much condescension. I am also writing this because as Mark Twain said, “I don’t want to hear about the moon from a man who has not been there.” Loving a man with cancer is my moon. Take the next step with me.

Everything Works (plus recipe)

Yesterday I got my hair cut. I have gone to the same lovely spa and salon for many years. Jean, The owner, is French is wonderful at connecting with his customers. When we learned about John’s cancer and chemo I told Jean and asked if he could do something for John—thinking he’d need a much shorter hair to get ready for losing it. The day John came for his special spa haircut all the stylists and their assistants were checking him out. He is very handsome, but it turns out that they all wanted to watch because the gal cutting his hair was giving her first haircut! So there was plenty of audience to cheer her on and to cheer John up.

Because of that Regine, the woman who cuts my hair, knows the story and the situation. When I see her we always talk first about John—his hair, his chemo and how he feels. So yesterday as she’s running her hands thru my hair and we are talking about the color and whether I need highlights again—she is telling me, “You won’t believe this…” Her best friend has just started dating a man with Colon Cancer. Her friend is in her 50’s and the new man is in his 50’s and he has colon cancer and has just completed his chemo. He is happy and they are happy etc. etc.

Then Regine leans closer to me and says in a soft voice, “My friend says everything works.” Pause. Then “You know what I mean? Everything works.” I pause. And then I get it. Her friend told her that sexually—with the new boyfriend with cancer—“everything works.” I laugh. She adds quickly, “Not that it’s everything but it matters, no?”

Yes it matters, I’m glad too that “everything works”.

Recipe:

Regine suggested this recipe for cooking salmon. I made this last night and it too works supremely well:

Marinade salmon filets for one hour in a mixture of half maple syrup and half teriyaki sauce. Bake at 375 skin side up for ten minutes. Turn them over and pour remaining marinade on top. Bake five more minutes at 400. The maple will caramelize on the salmon. Serve with mashed potatoes and asparagus or broccoli.

I am Sick of Him

I sit on the floor in the restroom at the oncology center and cry silently. I feel my life slipping away. I write this in my journal:


I am sick of him.

I am sick of the New York Yankees.

I am sick of his music.

I am sick of the apples he likes.

I am sick of his schedule.

I am sick of the movies he wants to see.

I am sick of him being sick.

I am sick of him.