We seek out medical help when we are sick, expecting to get better. There is a pill, a "procedure" (always loved that word) or an operation that will fix you. You will go home an take the pills or wake up from the surgeons meticulous work and the thing that has been trying to kill you goes away and you feel better. Cancer usually doesn't go quite that way. Which I think, by now, we all understand pretty well. However, it is one thing to understand and quite another to experience it - either as a "Cancer Patient" or a "Caregiver". Either of those roles give you some status. The patient has cancer - the most dreaded illness. A good friend of mine calls it her ultimate excuse. Aside form all the medical shit you have to go through every day - all you have to say is, "Well, I have cancer..." and poof, all your adult responsibilities are blown away. Caregivers have status too. We take care of all those responsibilities that have been blown in our direction. We go into high gear - a special opportunity for us "A" types. We can plan, and organize and multi-task our little butts off. We drive to treatment while we cook and clean and do laundry simultaneously all day, every day. We have calendars and pill boxes and binders. Oh yeah - "The Treatment Plan". I don't think this element is common knowledge, but as soon as you get your "diagnosis" you are handed a binder containing The Treatment Plan. This Plan is handed down by the Tumor Board - the all knowing and ultimate organizing organization of any Cancer Center worth it's salt. In it you will find all the details of how your life will proceed over the next 7 to 12 weeks. There is no discussion. There is no consultation with you concerning your current plans or commitments. Those matter no more. All that matters is the "Treatment Plan.". There will be follow-up phone calls reminding you of the details of The Plan. There will be knowing looks if you are unable to follow this closely knit and often time challenging Plan; i.e. 8:45 MRI, 10:00 Radiation, 10:30 Fluids, 11:30 Doc, 12:30 PT.... Excuse me, but I didn't see lunch in there anywhere. Did you forget, she has CANCER. Eating a nutritious lunch might be a good idea. And can we talk for a minute about STRESS MANAGEMENT!!!!!
And don't get me started on the Ensure Pushers. You know that stuff that was developed by NASA back in the 60's along with "Tang", the sickening sweet orange powder containing the daily requirement of vitamins and minerals that you mixed with water and drank? You would think that the Nutritionist would be a little more up to date with her dietary recommendations. But no, we are still supposed to give the Cancer Patient the drink that consists mostly of sugar and water. A bit insulting to the Caregiver who has just spend the last two days conjuring up the most nutritiously dense broth in the history of all broths.
You may be thinking, "Wow, all this doesn't sound to Hopeful to me. Sounds more like a rant. Where is the Hope?" Oh, it is still there. Hope is the raft that keeps you from drowning in the rushing of this crazy river of cancer and its treatment. It is the blow-up yellow duck floaty that keeps your head above water and reminds you that even though docs and Nutritionists have lots of knowledge and experience, they don't know everything. I know my girl. I have been with her for 16 years and should this Treatment Plan work, I will be with her for many more years. I know how to care for her, feed her, comfort her and Love her. That is my Treatment Plan. And, by the way, it appears to be working.
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