On day two of my retirement, I tearfully cancelled my flight to Philadelphia to spend three weeks with my new grandson. It was a sad but easy decision as soon as we got the bad news that my husband’s lung cancer has recurred and has spread to his lymph nodes. The doctors plan to treat the cancer aggressively meaning another possible surgery, followed by chemotherapy and radiation. His first appointment is this Tuesday, the same day of the scheduled flight.
I struggled to wrap my head around this huge change in mindset and plans. We never fully recovered from the recent cancer battle and we are about to embark on a more rigorous fight. I find that I process better when my hands are busy, so I spent the day returning my dining room to its pre-pandemic space–not the work space I used it for the last 15 months since COVID-19 sent us all home to work, but an actual dining room. I did a lot of gardening. I cleaned the guest room. And finally, I just sat in my backyard and starred at the flowers and trees, allowing my mind to just wander.
I admit that I am afraid. I also know that this time I must approach this battle differently if I want to maintain my own health while supporting and caring for my husband. I’m aware of an unhealthy pattern I’ve developed when I am in the midst of a cancer battle wherein I focus on the battle at hand and force my anxiety and fears aside. But I’ve learned the hard way that my body absorbs the anxiety and fear that my conscience mind refuses to entertain, resulting in health issues. I’ve traveled the cancer road first with my mother, who eventually died of breast cancer when I was 35. I traveled the cancer road when my husband survived colon cancer about 15 years ago. And then we thought he had defeated this past year’s bout of lung cancer, but it has recurred.
This time I will allow myself to feel the fear. This time I will nurture myself by nurturing my garden. This time I will exercise through it daily. This time I will not allow comfort food to be my primary source of comfort. I will lean more heavily on mediation, prayer, conversations with family and friends, music, and if necessary, I will engage the help of a therapist.
This isn’t how I planned to spend the first months of my retirement, but life is like that. So, when life changes, our best laid plans change, too. I covet the positive thoughts and prayers of my readers as we venture once again into battle against cancer.