Tag Archives: homeopathy

Terminal Cancer, Day by Day

Why?

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People react in all different ways when they learn about Brock’s cancer. My two least favourite responses are “has he tried [some random, slightly homeopathic suggestion]?”, and the folks who start to brainstorm why he’s been stricken.

Possible causes of cancer (according to these armchair physicians) include: too much red meat, exposure to cell phones or cordless phones or smart TVs or Smart Metres, or (the most offensive and hurtful so far) some hidden, negative core of feeling deep inside him.

I don’t understand the people who bother to ask “why?”. My sweetie and I joke about the why — too many Subway teriyaki chicken sandwiches, perhaps? The fact is: there is no known reason why my very healthy, fit, non-smoking husband, who has never been exposed to a significant dose of chemicals, would get cancer, much less a very aggressive and sudden form.

Maybe the “why”-askers have a need to assess and ameliorate their own risk. “He has a cordless phone and ate red meat once a week, so I should revert to a landline and only ever eat chicken, and then I will live forever.”

Maybe they need to believe, at some level, that Brock deserved to get cancer, as a consequence for his actions or decisions or innate evilness, and therefore life is fair.

But life isn’t fair.

My favourite response to get, by the way, is: “This is horrible news. I am very sorry for your family and what you’re going through. If there’s anything I can do to help, please tell me.” And then maybe a hug or a kind touch, for as long as I need it.

Terminal Cancer, Day by Day

Grieving in Public

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Sometimes when I talk to friends/family/strangers about the cancer I confuse them, because I’m not wailing and crying on them. Some people are uncomfortable around crying people (maybe most of us are) and so perhaps this is a relief, that they don’t have to deal with me sobbing, but I often sense that they’re confused: why aren’t I crying? How can I smile and make cancer jokes and get my grocery shopping done?

It’s a funny thing, to feel pressured to grieve in public. Sometimes I let the crying come, depending on the person. There are wonderful, sympathetic huggers in my life. But most of the time I suck it in, focus instead on relaying the updates that Brock would be comfortable sharing: I don’t mention the diarrhea, but headaches are okay.

I’m careful not to be too specific about our treatment plan (pills), because we are surrounded by well-meaning hippies and if I open that door then there will an onslaught of homeopathic advice. I know people have loving intentions, and they want to be helpful, but those suggestions enrage me, and suddenly I’m holding back mean words instead of tears.

(Brief pause here to watch a favourite Mitchell and Webb clip …)

Ha.

From a practical perspective (and we’re very practical people), if I cried on every single person I ran into who asked about the cancer or Brock, then I’d be crying quite a lot and wouldn’t get many of my daily tasks accomplished. I like it that our community cares about us, and I like it when people ask how Brock’s doing. I am trying to figure out a response that doesn’t confuse the nice people who check in with us.