chapter 9: part 3

continued from chapter 9: part 2

If you feel stressed simply coping with your cancer, consider seeing a psychologist or psychiatrist or a well-recommended counselor. I learned of one psychologist in our city who worked almost exclusively with cancer patients; some of our support group members took this route and felt it helped them. Don’t load yourself with more than you can take. But if you feel your cancer is crushing your spirit, then find a professional counselor to help you work your way through.

Be clear about your goals. Your goal is to make each day count, to be able to reach out and accept help and any love coming your way and to be able to handle the rough moments we all have.

Take your problems one at a time. If something comes up, deal with it while it’s one problem and then move on. Obviously if something monumental comes along then make sure your partner is steadfastly beside you while you work your way through this.

Don’t be complacent about your good days. Use them well. Enjoy the day but remember clearly you are changing, casting out the outmoded habits that will not enhance your life. A relaxed and serene peace of mind is your aim. Save the worrying for what might be.

Practice your mental imagery, and if that sounds too much like work, then call it daydreaming. Imagine yourself feeling well, gaining success with treatment. Imagine your immune system devouring the cancer and spitting it out. Do what feels right to you.

Anticipate some things that might come up later. For instance, Hal and I took advantage of the recuperative time to work out a plan for when he might not be feeling good. This is where my obsession for planning proved itself. How would we deal with a lack of appetite when his weight might be decreasing rapidly? We agreed that nagging and fussing was not going to work. Instead, we would figure out on a daily basis, the minimum amount he would require for the day, and he would decide what he would consume and when. The deal was that he had to take the required food but he would choose when and I would attempt to make it as nutritious, and in case of nausea, as odorless as possible. This worked well for us.

If you’re on your own, next time you’re at the clinic, ask to see the nutritionist and get advice about handling loss of appetite if and when it happens. You may be advised to have some easily prepared foods on hand or tinned liquid nutrients that are palatable if chilled.

Ironically, while we were making these plans, it was Christmas time and Hal had regained his weight and more, and voluntarily put himself on a sensible eating program.

A good way to monitor your own emotional progress is by keeping a journal of your experiences in your life and dreams. You’ll see improvement as you re-read. Yes, I do know this is the third journal I’ve suggested but you won’t regret doing this. This is a rebuilding time. You are preparing yourself physically and mentally to be responsive to the doctors treatment. Check back a month or two and you’ll see on paper just how much you’ve grown and strengthened in your way of living.

Self- help groups sprouted like toadstools in the late sixties and early seventies and they have gained credibility with many doctors treating cancer patients. In Toronto, when we were learning the ropes, Alistair Cunningham, a professor of medical biophysics at the University of Toronto and former cancer patient, established the best-known groups. He ran the groups at the Cancer hospital where Hal went for his clinic visits. At first the groups were intended only for the person with cancer but the caregivers made it clear they were coming and staying, so they became part of the program.

The groups certainly had value for many of the patients attending; they had an opportunity to talk out their fears with their own small sub- group in the care of a trained leader. Each session lasted two hours a week for a period of six weeks, and you could move on to the intermediate and finally senior stage.

The sessions begin with a relaxation exercise, and I never ceased to marvel at the tightness I brought into the room and felt it melt away as the exercise progressed. Afterward, we broke into small permanent groups for an hour. The caregivers had their own group.

The caregivers benefited from the group as much or more than our husbands did; we gained a lot of strength from it and that indirectly helped the spouses.
We had questions we didn't want to ask in front of our spouses, about future obstacles we might face. Fortunately our group leaders were always generous with their time to take phone calls or meet privately for a few minutes after a session, to answer troubling questions.

To all caregivers reading this, if your partner isn’t interested in joining a self help group, find a group for you; you both need it but you in particular need a place to let loose. After all, your partner has more opportunity to express himself but you don’t.

My first and only surprise when we joined the group was the attending couples in bad marriages. Their incompatibility quickly became obvious. I wonder if one or both got anything from being there.

Here’s a note about helping your partner—if you are on heavy medication such as morphine, stop driving the car. Never once did a doctor mention this obvious fact and during support group sessions, we all discussed the close calls we’d had because our mates weren’t aware that their senses were dulled. Wives never seem able to tackle this one. Seek out a doctor, or in our case, a visiting nurse, who did lay down the law.

continued in chapter 9: part 4