I am passionate, sometimes overly so. I get excited about things others don’t. According to my husband, this quality is something he loves about me. However, recently he has had to put me in my place more so than not. My husband is the opposite; he likes solidarity. I love people.
Since cancer has come into the picture my husband has become even more introverted and I in turn have become overly passionate; trying everything I can to keep him engaged in life. I am the type of person that believes the pitch of my voice is directly proportional to someone’s level of understanding. In other words, the louder I talk, the more you’re going to understand the point I’m trying to make. I am still trying to find a balance and yesterday it became very aware to me that that balance must be found soon.
For a while I have expected more out of my husband than he is capable of giving. Cancer and chemotherapy have stunted his intellect, energy level, and desire for communication. Ahh, the lovely side effects of Chemo Brain. His inability to connect has only caused me to yearn for it more. Yesterday, through a series of texts, I realized I lacked an understanding of the devastating effects of chemotherapy. As a result of his physical and emotional depletion, I assumed he didn’t love me or had no desire to build up our marriage. My frustration came out in a passionate rage. I raised my voice and felt as if I wanted to pound my desires into his head. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t understand. Why he stood silent. So I left.
He explained it like this, via text, after he had a chance to think things through:
“I just want to be and not think. I have heavy enough things on my mind constantly as it is…. I know that’s not fair to you and I’m sorry. I promise to work on it but I need you to understand that my brain isn’t really working at full capacity. Chemo brain is real. It sucks and I forget things and just want to do the easiest thing possible.”
Before this text I believed that if I forced him to be engaged in something: a family trip, a house project, or a bible study, that he wouldn’t have a chance to let go. Now I realize that allowing him some down time is exactly what he needs. This doesn’t mean he’s saying goodbye or giving up, it’s just what he needs to recoup what the drugs are draining out of him.
All this reveals the need for a delicate balance between the terrible effects of chemotherapy and maintaining life. How do I allow him the time to heal without feeling like we’re missing out? I would venture to say it all comes down to satisfaction. Being satisfied by the little things. Sitting on the couch together, watching the kids jump on the trampoline, or enjoying our favorite meals. Isn’t it the little things that count? Yeah, I think that’s right. So, here’s to finding joy in the little things!
7 thoughts on “Chemotherapy and Life”
clavo011
Stumbled on your blog, and am quite glad i did. What a beautiful post…All the best to you and your family. My mother underwent radiotherapy a few years ago when i was still in middle school, and i recognize her in your husband’s wish. Maybe the downtime they need is a way for them to recharge in order to live the small joys of life in the best way that they can:).
mommyrenewed
Thank you so much. I know so many have been through similar situations but everyone’s journey is unique to them. And you’re right, that down time is exactly what is needed. I don’t do that very well but I am trying
Zen and Genki
Yes, cheers to down time! For you and for him
Just “being” can be done together, which is wonderful. 
Ryan Johnson
I am so glad I visited your site. I didn’t put it in my blog, but my dad actually hiked the GC with cancer. He felt a lump in his neck a week before the hike, and it got bigger over the next few weeks. After our Grand Canyon adventure he went home and got it checked out. What followed was a whirlwind of surgery and chemo for the next three months. Our running joke was that he hiked the GC with cancer, and that you can’t find that shirt in the gift store. : )
I printed out a picture of him in the canyon with a little quote: “We shall draw from the heart of suffering itself the means of inspiration and survival.” ~Winston Churchill
My family has been dealt a serious blow by cancer in the last year: my little sister (16) had a synovial sarcoma (she’s in remission), my dad had throat cancer (in remission), and now both of my grandmothers have cancer. I wish I was brave enough to blog about it, but it feels to heavy sometimes to talk about. I wanted to encourage you and your husband: I don’t know what step you’re in on your journey, but I’ll be praying for your whole family! As a photographer, I process things visually, and cancer makes it hard to do that. Keep fighting. Keep writing. Keep talking about your experiences with others.
I had to work in Haiti for a few weeks and after my deployment the non-profit I worked for put me through mandatory trauma counseling. They said the best thing to do was to talk IN LENGTH about our experiences to others. I’ve suggested that my mom and dad do the same thing after their experience with cancer. I’d recommend the same to anyone dealing with loved ones who are going through cancer treatment. I think blogging is AN EXCELLENT IDEA! I’ll be sure to subscribe to your blog.
mommyrenewed
Ryan, thank you so much for your comment and what an amazing connection that your father had cancer when you hiked the GC. It also sounds like you are all too familiar with the effects of chemo and the cancer “lifestyle”. It sounds like you and your family have handled it all very well. My husband also feels humor is a great stress reliever!
Thank you also for your encouragement. Blogging has become an outlet for me; especially when it’s difficult to share my feelings with another human face-to-face. I’m embarrassed to say that this blog has been hidden from friends and family as I just wasn’t ready to share such deep thoughts.
Anyways, I look forward to following your blog in the future and I will also be praying for you and your family. God bless, Alysha
Miss Molly
I came to your blog via the link when you visited my blog… my husband was diagnosed with Leukemia when I was 26 and he was 30. NO ONE should have to go through this – Cancer. It really does stink. I resonated with your post because I remember “chemo brain” very clearly.
I wish I could say that it completely resolves, but for most there is a lingering/residual side effect. Your husband will be changed forever by this experience.
There was not a lot of support for young couples 20 years ago when we were dealing with his illnes and treatments. Fortunately today there are more resources.
I found this one recently – you may find it helpful. http://www.youngcancerspouses.com/index.html
Here’s to a smooth journey. I hope that your experience is smoother than ours and has a better result. The only thing that I can say at this point is that patience is essential.
Your lives will not be the same and “normal” is a relative term. The best thing that I ever did was to seek assistance via counseling right from the beginning. Family and friends are wonderful but they are not impartial. A good “third party”, outside person to listen and understand what you are dealing with is really important.
Peaceful and healing vibes to you and your family. Remember to take care of you too.
mommyrenewed
Molly, thank you for your comment. I had read something on your blog abot you being a caregiver and it sounds like we have a lot in common. It’s strange how cancer suddenly makes you begin to contemplate what you have and have not accomplished in life.
I also want to thank you for the website. I will definitely check it out. And as for seeking out someone to talk to, that is my next step. My husband has recently started seeking counseling and so far it’s been a great experience.
Good luck to you in the future. It sounds like you are on the right track and are very driven. I look forward to reading more about your adventures in the future.
Thank you,
Alysha