Letter to my husband

How to be the partner of a cancer patient

My love,

We knew this was a possibility, but it still sucks that the biopsy is positive for cancer. I know you are sad and scared, but you want to be strong and supportive of me. I love you for all of it. When my parents faced my mother's recurrence, her oncologist told them that cancer breaks weak marriages and strengthens strong ones. I think we'll be okay.

We've always been good communicators, but with cancer, I know we both will want to protect each other from heartache. I'm not sure if that's the right thing to do, but I'm going to find a therapist to be my outlet, and we'll figure out what keeps us connected without causing each other pain.

You've never walked this path, and I know it's unfamiliar. I've walked it, but not as the patient. From my perspective, as a practiced cancer caregiver, you need someone with whom you can share all your feelings without worrying about burdening me. Unfortunately, we have a few friends who have the right experience you need. Please reach out and ask for the support you need. Or find a therapist!

I want to tell you everything I am feeling but don't want to upset or worry you. Like I told you at the start, I'm sure this diagnosis is not going to kill me. But I am scared about the side effects and how they will impact our lives and our children. And I know you need to travel for your job, but I don't want to lean on our daughter as a caretaker. I felt that my mother's chemo treatment significantly impacted my teenage years and catapulted me into adulthood ahead of my peers. I felt isolated, guilty about wanting to live my life, and responsible as a teenager. I want our daughter to know that we prefer she continues with her interests and activities without consideration of my treatment. I have you and many other adults who are willing to help out, so she should be a kid.

We will need very well-coordinated schedules with my treatment and your work travel. With advance notice, my family and friends are happy to stay with me during treatment and ensure that I am cared for while our daughter remains active in school and sports. We're fortunate that she's almost a licensed driver! Let's figure out a strategy to stay synchronized on the calendar. I suspect my calendar will be somewhat outside my control, and I know yours is similarly dynamic.

Photo by Behnam Norouzi on Unsplash

Cancer is, unfortunately, expensive. Thank you for ensuring we have good health insurance. For so many years while you were entrepreneurial, I bore that obligation with the expectation that my BRCA gene would misfire into cancer. Ironically, it finally did when you started carrying health insurance. Not only are there copays and out-of-network healthcare expenses, but my income will be impacted because I simply cannot work as much, if at all. Our fixed obligations don't change, and I realize this creates pressure for you and me. We have savings, and we can be budget-conscious. You recognize this will stress me out more than it stresses you out. Please remind me that we'll be okay financially and that this is a short-term problem. 

Your affection makes me feel loved and safe. I appreciate the hugs, kisses, and handholding. Please don't stop. If I don't want to be touched because I feel lousy, I will tell you. It doesn't mean I never want to be touched. It's temporary. More often than not, I will prefer your touch and support. Please don't feel rejected if I retreat into my shell - I need to do what I need during this treatment process. It's not about you.  

Our kids are likely nervous and feel very unsettled. Please help me keep them informed and encourage them to find people to support them. Hopefully, this will not disrupt their lives very much. I want to be honest with them about how everything is going without making them responsible for caring for me. I told them that being a spectator to their lives is a source of endless entertainment and joy for me. 

It's normal to worry and have a lot of questions. Please come with me to whatever appointments you want and ask whatever questions you have. Please read the materials they send me so you can be an informed partner on this journey. Sometimes chemo impacts short-term memory, so I may need you to be my memory. We should both take notes during conversations with my medical team to compare what we heard and share it with the family as needed. 

You know that I derive pleasure through my ability to handle things. Let me handle scheduling, asking for help, and updating as much as I can. I need you to fill in the blanks when I miss stuff or if I need help to do it. It will upset me if I cannot handle our lives as always, but my emotions are not directed at you. But don't baby me or suddenly try to take over things I always did - ask me if I'd like you to do something specific, and I'll let you know. I've also enlisted Jessica as my support quarterback with friends and family - please connect with her, and if you think something needs to change with our community, ask me, and then, if I'm not with it, ask her. 

My treatment and surgery forced me to see my body differently. My body feels different, too. I want to feel attractive and desirable, so I hope you'll still look at me as a sexy woman and not as a sick patient. We must explore intimacy anew, but I hope we can frame this as an opportunity to rediscover something after 25+ years. That said, I grieve what I have lost and will lose to ensure breast cancer doesn't kill me. Please work with me to make intimacy fun, tender, exciting, and more so that we both know that we will still enjoy being intimate with each other during and after cancer. 

This will be a short, albeit intense, interlude throughout our lives. I'm lucky to have a good partner in life and on this journey. So many people feel alone facing cancer, and even though I am the patient, I have you, and that gives me strength. Thank you. I love you.

Continue?