cancer – day 61
It’s interesting, I find myself behaving a little differently in this than in any other relationship I’ve ever had. Not really acting differently, so much as, well, reacting a little less to things that normally bother me in a relationship. I’m starting to think the difference is in part because of the known or expected duration we’ve already committed to my living here for cancer treatment. And in the interest of not making the next several months an unbearably messy living situation, I think twice (usually) before reacting to something, or I give the benefit of the doubt more, wait things out more, try to be more patient and let things settle into their rhythm before figuring out whether or not I can dance to that rhythm or if I really do need a slightly different tempo or beat. The old me would have been shaping things along the way, molding. Not that one way is necessarily better than another (my former approach certainly did a lot for my career), but this definitely feels different, it’s kind of an assumed in-it-for-the-long-haul commitment. And I started wondering . . . back when people made marriages work for a lifetime, did they have more of this attitude I’m experiencing now?
Sometimes I think of my life as what it is at this moment, essentially an extended-but-can-still-be-considered-temporary living arrangement, and what it will be when I can “go home” after all the cancer treatments are over. Other times, I feel like we’re assuming or treating this as more indefinite, to whatever point in the future it reaches. But, for example, before I bought the aquarium, I first measured where it would go in my house in Volcanoville, and I also made sure it would fit in my “office” at Mark’s (which is really where I bought it for, initially) so I can hear the waterfall sound while I’m working during treatment. But it was important to me to be sure where the aquarium would go, to make sure it would fit back at my own house, which is typical of my old way of not letting myself depend on anyone too much or count on anyone or anything as unending. A woman of the new millennium? Independent, self-sufficient . . . tenacious . . .
We were talking last weekend about relationships (I think it was about marriage or life-long relationships in particular) and how individuals change and grow over time. If you’re looking at your marriage and trying to force your spouse to stay the same person they were five or ten years ago when you married them, I wonder how happy your spouse can be with that, when they’ve matured and grown as a person over that time but you expect them to still be who they were ten years ago. We agreed that long-term relationships can only work long term if you allow each other to change and grow, to still be individuals. I also think we should be supportive of and appreciate that change and growth in each other too. Maybe then people wouldn’t say they’ve “outgrown” each other, and loving someone could actually span a lifetime because you love who they become for what they are rather than for what you wanted them to be that they’re not.
In general I don’t think we as people appreciate each other enough. Sure, people appreciate when you do what they want, but that’s not really appreciation now, is it? One of the things I’ve tried to put a lot of emphasis on in the last few years especially is to try to appreciate people for who they are rather than thinking they should be something they’re not. You know, like whenever you think a thought that starts with “if only . . .” I try to stop myself right there and remember what it is that is appreciable in this person, and not focus on what’s missing or lacking. I guess there could be a fine line between letting someone be who they are and letting them be something they shouldn’t, like if you were in an abusive relationship or something. Or being starved emotionally because you never tell the person that you desperately need to be held at night, or be thanked for doing something for them, or whatever. At some point I guess we have to realize then that the person they really are isn’t good for us or isn’t right for us. OK, so maybe I’ve got it backwards. Maybe the fact that we change and grow is exactly why we can’t be with the same person long term, because we change in such a way that the person is no longer good for us. Or they change in such a way that we’re no longer good for them. Hmmm, that wouldn’t explain my parents though. Or Mark’s.
Which sort of brings me back around to the original thought. It’s hard to describe. I’m not trying harder in this relationship exactly, but in a way I am. I’m trying to be more . . . pliable, more flexible, more accepting. Even without chemo, we know the radiation treatment will mean two months of “cancer girl.” And I know I’m a handful, Mark’s a hero and a saint in all this cancer stuff.
Like Monday, when I got the two phone calls back to back about the biological history of some breast cancer (and skin cancer, actually), and that the oncotype test won’t be ready for another two weeks, so we still won’t know if that reliability score puts me in the clear to not have chemo. Mark was busy, on the phone, with work, and I didn’t want to interrupt him, but I couldn’t keep it in and I blogged that note on Monday and wrote something on my facebook, then put myself back to work on the MBBC report, because there was no alternative. The report had to get done, Mark couldn’t get away at the moment, and I honestly didn’t want to talk about it anyway. If my Mom had spontaneously called at that moment, I wouldn’t have answered the phone. I was in a kind of state of shock, and the only thing to do at that point was get back to work. A few minutes after Mark got off the phone though, maybe half an hour later, he came over and hugged me from behind my chair, just that comforting hug that I’m not alone in this thing. Which of course put me over the edge and the tears came. He didn’t say anything, just held me like that until I calmed down again, petted my arms reassuringly, and then he kissed me on the head and went back over to his office. We didn’t actually talk for quite a while after that, but in the early evening I turned to face him from my office and when he looked over I said “you know, I’m really glad I was here today. I’m glad that I wasn’t home alone today.” He nodded in understanding.
And now we have another two weeks of me being on edge and getting more anxious with each passing day, waiting for the day we find out about the oncotype reliance score thing, and chemo. There’s no reason it should keep getting more burdensome, but I guess at the same time, why wouldn’t it? At any rate, that’s what’s going on. Mark still has a cold, and I’m so on edge I can hardly stand myself sometimes. I don’t sleep at night. I don’t sleep during the day. I can’t fall asleep. I can’t nap. I start to feel like I’m assuming I won’t have to do chemo, other times I find myself assuming I won’t, but I know that I can’t plan either way, I have to just let it happen as it happens.
Talk about a life test! I’ve been through some very difficult times, but this one definitely has some special trials for me. Life still has an awful lot to teach me, that’s for sure.