Jen's Diagnosis
When Jen got the diagnosis, it wasn't a case of maybe we got it early enough, maybe we can fix this. No. The gravity of her diagnosis was complete. Stage 4b. It would have taken the very definition of a miracle to stop the inevitable outcome. It was that day, June 1st 2012, that I knew. My wife, my love, my friend, would die in front of me, soon. She would pass and leave us forever. At that point, the world was broken, and me with it.
Looking back on it now I feel guilty. Did my unspoken negativity lead or aide her passing? Did my dark thoughts keep the miracle from happening?
The Oncology Team at Froedtert
I had some bloodwork done in March at Froedtert so I stopped in the cancer center to thank them. I wasn't sure how I was going to feel or react but I knew I had to thank them. Taking an extremely long route through the various wings of the hospital to get to the Cancer Center, there was a familiarity with the hallways and colors, but I was uneasy. Very, uneasy. I kept thinking that I needed to get back to Jen. As if she was sleeping up in her room and I had snuck out for a coffee but needed to be back before she woke up. I found myself trying to remember what labs or appointments Jen had on the schedule for the day. But that was followed, of course, by the stark realization that there were no appointments today, no tests to take. I sat down on one of the benches and just let that wash over me for a while.
After I composed myself I headed over to the Courage clinic and checked in to see if Dr. Santana was available. He was immediately, and we walked back into one of the conference rooms. I hadn't rehearsed what I was going to say, so I started with "Thank You". We talked back and fourth for a few minutes when his pager buzzed and he asked if he could step out for a second. He came back in with Nurse Kay and other members of the team. So I delivered the message to the whole team. I thanked them for putting up with me during the appointments and phone calls. "What you do is important. Your optimistic approach and enthusiasm is greatly appreciated by your patients. You must continue that way. I thank you and I know Jen Thanks you." Once again not a dry eye in the house, including mine.
Dr. Santana and Livestrong have stated the same thing. The term cancer survivor doesn't apply only to the people who have been diagnosed with it. It applies to the caregiver and those who carry on after the cancer claims a loved one.
Things I've learned:
The Good:
- I can mentally survive the death of my wife. Yes, this is still an ongoing process, but I didn't completely fall apart and become non-functional like I feared. They say the death of a spouse is one, if not the most, stressful event a person can go through. check. done.
- On the whole, I can handle the single parent logistics thing. It sucks most of the time, but I can handle.
- The Girls seem to be doing OK. They are not withdrawn, they're not morose, they're not violent or mean-spirited. In fact they've proven very resilient. If anything, this has made us a tighter crew.
- Parental decision to be made? It's mine, all mine! muuhahhaahaha!
- I've internalized the new role as my new calling. A shepard charged with protecting and leading the flock. While others gave up petty stuff for lent, I gave up myself and the plans Jen and I had.
- There are people out there who will do unimaginably generous things to help you out when you need it.
- Even after the toughest of heartbreaks, I can still be grateful for the good things in my life.
- I can bake (yes BAKE!)
- I can feel good after buying a car.
- I actually feel like I deserve a vacation, for once.
The Bad:
- There are some simple facts and dates that I repeatedly get wrong. To my great frustration and embarrassment. Regardless of how careful I am or how many times I proofread, it's as if there's something consistently rewriting bad data to my brain.
- Parental decision to be made? It's all mine to make regardless of how uncomfortable or ill prepared. Sometimes, I'm making it up as I go along.
- I can waffle on an easy decision at the most inopportune times. (seemingly, without rhyme or reason)
- I never know when a song, a sign, or something someone says, will start an uncontrollable chain reaction of thoughts that ends with me teary eyed and embarrassed that my emotions got away from me...again.
- My Short term memory is shot. Utterly useless. Unless I've written it down, I can't tell you anything we discussed this week. This makes work a VERY stressful place trying to keep all the bases covered when you can't remember.
- When I'm depressed I eat and drink... a lot.
- I'm in the worst physical shape I've been in 15 years (see above. correlation? nah.)
- Not that I ask for slack, but some folks just "get" my situation and understand the impact it may have. Others? They see this as something you take care of over the weekend and come back to work without any impact.
- I wake up every morning determined that "today's going to be different. I'm going to reengage, kick some ass, and deliver." And, invariably, I go to bed disappointed with the lack of progress and say to myself "tomorrow, I HAVE to make a change".
- I have a long list of creative ideas, but I never start any of them. It just seems like another task, regardless of how relaxing or fulfilling it might prove. So I never start.
- I'm paranoid of a lot of things, some valid, most not. (this is NOT new but the list has changed)
- When I was reading the "grief" and bereavement stuff while Jen was in the hospital, people talked about how grief affects every facet of your life. I thought "these people are just undisciplined unstructured folks who can't apply systems and logic to solve problems. If you put an emotionless process or system in place you can shelve the emotions and follow the plan you built". Now? I count myself amongst them. There's something about my mental state right now that makes everything difficult to think through to the end. Ever had one of those moments where you tripped and for five or six awkward steps you were trying to gain your balance and not fall flat on your face? That's my day, mentally.
- I have no tolerance for difficulty. If something takes effort, any effort, it seems like yet another insurmountable task requiring focus and energy. It will probably get dropped... quickly.
- When I'm rested I can walk through hell with a smile. But I can (and unfortunately, have) blown up over some very minor issues. All of these meltdowns came when I was tired or very sick or beyond frustrated with something else. Regardless, afterwards I feel like the worst parent on the face of the earth, undeserving of the immense Love I receive from my kids.
- Unless you're going to hire a maid (hmm.. that'd be nice), or the kids are going to do it, you're it... Lucky You
- It has changed from the "Mother - Daughter Talk" to the "Father - Daughter Talk" YEAH! SO looking forward to that in the near future. No subject can be unapproachable. As a single dad, you can't be squeamish. There is no boy stuff vs girl stuff, there's only stuff that has to be discussed.
- Vanilla cupcakes and chocolate cupcakes have different baking times... Someone should fix this.
