Back again….

Back again….

All was quite on the cancer front for five years, but Kim was feeling achy all the time and a series of tests confirmed that the cancer had returned to her bones , her liver and the lungs. That was tough news. We cried again. We were terribly sad.
What could I do?

Make every day memorable. It doesn’t have to be something big. Sometimes a kitchen dance or an afternoon hug was the most cherished moment. I must admit I was very lucky as a caregiver. I cared for someone who had an amazing amount of grace, determination and willingness to move forward. She knew at this point that the disease would not go away, but her ability to set and attain goals was a life force that positively affected many of the people around her, especially me.
We went through our moments known as the “conspiracy of silence;” where you don’t talk about things because they make you feel uncomfortable. We had to adapt the way we “loved” each other because intimacy changed. Despite such a life-altering illness, our profound respect for each other gave us the ability to move forward together.

The cancer moved to the brain and the doctors told Kim she could not drive. She felt robbed of her independence and it shook her to the core.
What could I do?

I did what I could to reinforce her sense of independence. We organized trips when she was well enough, and shuffled chemo treatments to accommodate them.

Yes, I was playing a support role and I knew my leading lady was counting on me. She didn’t have to tell me.