It’s Cancer
Learning to sit with the unknown is a practice I have yet to master
“My dad passed away from cancer and it was so incredibly hard.” This was the response given to my husband and I at a recent party when he mentioned that he’s currently going through chemotherapy. Completely appalled at hearing this, I had to stop myself from literally stepping in between my husband and this man to create some sort of barrier of protection. But the words were already said. The unwelcome reminder of the worst possible outcome hung in the air, helplessly and regretfully. The recovery was quick and, of course, the desired intent was one of care but it was another example of things better left unsaid that my husband has had to contend with over the past year and half.
As it happens, Kurt takes these comments with a tremendous amount of grace. He rationalizes that he knows the statistics and understands that people are just sharing. I, as the comparative dramatic in the relationship, am the most freaked out by it. He is handling the reemergence of this cancer, which has now moved into early Stage 4, with a level of humor and mental fortitude that leaves me in awe. No one looking at him would know what he is going through. He doesn’t look like he has cancer, whatever that is supposed to mean. Hearing the word cancer still feels fresh and shocking, despite the time we’ve had to sit with it. He is scared. I am scared. He…
