Impotent.

September 15, 2009 at 8:45 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 34 Comments

I was going to tell you about our vacation last week. How well O did with his grandparents. How rested and awesome I feel.

But I just got an email this morning with an update.

My girlfriend S is dying.

Her cancer has spread. Not just the breast. It’s moved to her liver. And changed – not the same cancer as the tumor in her breast.

The doctors have told her that it’s “chronic” now and likely incurable. That no matter what course of treatment she does, the cancer will be there, in her body.

The goal now is to prolong her life as much as possible with other courses of treatment. Hormone therapy to shrink the tumors and keep them from recurring.

To keep the cancer at bay as long as possible.

They’re not talking about survival rates anymore. Now it’s survival TIME.

I don’t know what to do. How to process. How to help her. What to say. What to think. What to do.

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  1. I have been reading your blog for some time now, but I thought I’d share some thoughts on your post.

    Recently, a friend (and co-worker) passed away from a similar progression of breast cancer. She was only 36 years old and ironically, her birthday is tomorrow. She lived each day to the fullest and those around her covered her with love, prayers, happy thoughts, laughs, and lasting memories. Do any and everything she needs and wants. Embrace each up and down she has and soak in all of the memories you can. Pray for a cure, pray that she has wisdom to choose the methods of treatment and pain management that are right for her in her situation. Love her like there’s no tomorrow.

  2. Aww, shit, Serenity. I’m so sorry.

  3. I’m so sorry that you have found yourself in this situation. It is truly an awful place to be.
    I have a SIL who is going through the same thing. While she remains upbeat and positive, it has to be gut-wrenching – knowing the inevitable outcome. And it is just as gut-wrenching to be watching her go through it.
    I found that I didn’t know what to say or do in the beginning as well. I looked at her and all I could see was what the disease was doing to her, her family, to me. It honestly took awhile to come to terms with it. I think it will take you awhile too.
    I’m sure your girlfriend will put on a brave face and tell you that she is being positive. Be positive with her, even if you don’t really feel it. If you see her often, let her be with you without feeling like she HAS to talk about what is going on. Silence can be just as comforting sometimes. Cry with her sometimes and be strong for her at other times. Let her know that whatever she is feeling from day to day is ok, whether it be anger, sadness, resignation, hope. Hug her if she wants to be hugged. Help her be as independent as she possibly be – this disease is incredibly crippling and suddenly finding yourself reliant on others can be disastrous for self-esteem and self-image and ego. If she has a family, kids/partner, help to find some support groups so that the kids can not only find support from other people going through the same thing, but also so they can take a time-out from the constant knowledge of what is the reality of their lives. In Australia there are programs/support groups for kids of parents with cancer that take them on outings/holidays for some fun. I’m sure there would be something similar in the US.
    Tell her you’re sorry. She’ll hear this a lot, but it will actually mean something coming from someone who loves her than from someone who is a complete stranger.
    Go with the flow. Laugh when she laughs. If she makes a joke about something to do with the cancer, don’t be shocked. She will only be doing what she knows to cope with everything.
    I hope this helps. And I hope you don’t feel like I’m being presumptious. But I felt like I had to share with you what has helped me and my family cope with an extremely similar situation.

  4. Oh, I’m so sorry to hear this news about your friend. It really is a lot to process. I’m thinking of your friend.

  5. I am so sorry to hear this. I guess you both need some time to process this. And then I think Samatha had good advice.

  6. Samantha could not have said it any better.

    Hugs,
    D

  7. I don’t know what to say either. But, for me, going through IF – it was better for someone to say, “I don’t know what to say but I LOVE YOU!” than for them to say something asinine. Just be her friend.

  8. Be honest — say, “I wish there were something I could say or do, but I don’t know what to say, and there’s nothing I can think of to do.” Something along those lines. Be open to go where she leads. Ask her if there is anything you can do.

    I’m so sorry for you and for her.

  9. Oh no Serenity, this is so tragic. I am so sorry. I am sending many many HUGS. Just shower your friend with love and be there for her!

  10. If you don’t know what to say – just BE there. I think that has to be the most important thing. So sorry you are going through this!

  11. So sorry

  12. Oh S. I am so, so, sorry. That’s awful. Awful.

    What’s so great about YOU being in her life-is that you ‘get it.’ I once nannied for an eight month old-so that she could be
    in the house as her mother died from cancer. (I know-so.sad).

    What I learned from her–is that people stop calling. They quit sending cards. Life long friends. Relatives. Peers. They’d rather look the other way than watch their friend die. Or say something ‘wrong.’ So, you know what you need to do? Be there. Which is exactly what you’d do without my assvice. You may want to google some “what to say/what not to say” when someone is dying of cancer- I remember my mom’s friend-the lady I nannied for….would always get “wow, but you look so healthy…….” She didn’t really care though–she was so happy to flippin have people talk to her.

    One of my mom’s warmest memories was helping her dying friend clean out her closet and pick out her funeral outfit. They laughed and cried and laughed and cried. But for one saturday afternoon-my mom’s friend wasn’t alone.

    Maybe you could encourage your other friends to ‘abide with her’ as we say in the IF world?

    No matter what-I am so, so sorry. I just had a friend die of cancer-and honestly, we weren’t that close-but it was incredibly upsetting. It still hurts.

    Now that I think about it–we actually got closer when she found out she was dying-b/c I learned so much from my nanning-I’d just call her and ask her if she wanted to talk-or I would leave a v/m saying “You may or may not want to talk–either one is fine with me–but if you do….call me-and if you don’t -don’t. I’ll still keep calling just in case.” People have done that with me-here lately-and it means so much-b/c I don’t have to feel bad if I can’t get back to them.

    It’s weird-I don’t think I realized how sad it’d make me to go through that with a not-so-close friend–but it is. I almost don’t want to tell you that–but you need to know-right?

    Big hugs buddy.

  13. I think christina really nailed it with the fact that people bail and stop calling. If you can be the one to suck it up and do whatever she needs (which includes being there), that’s all you can realy do, and more than a lot of people will do. It just f*g sucks.

  14. I read Samantha’s comment, started crying and thought..yep that’s what you do, you love her, you’re there no matter how much it stinks and you let Serenity that you’re there for HER through it, you can help S and we can help YOU.

    I’m soooooo sorry! I’m just so sorry.
    more HUGS than I can possibly send.
    Kir

  15. I’m just so sorry … for her, for you, for her family. That is just devastating. I think the others are right — just be the same great friend you’ve always been to her. Maybe offer to drop off a meal or something, so she knows you mean it when you say you’d like to help however you can.

    My thoughts are with you all.

  16. The few weeks I spent this summer waiting to hear if I had a terminal illness, and wondering if I would live to see my son grow up, were the hardest of my life. I cannot describe the anguish I felt just contemplating it. The worst things people said to me minimized what I was feeling and denied the real possibility of a serious illness. My heart goes out to your friend.

    I remember when Emilie Lemmons was diagnosed, someone paid for a portrait session of the family while she was still fairly well. When a coworkers husband recently went to hospice, we sent her notes on a regular basis, and stopped by with meals. She told me that all the visits really held her up during those awful times.

  17. i’m so sorry to hear this, S. just love love love on her. lavish her with your love.

  18. I have no words……there are NO words….you are all in my prayers.;I hope no one minds but I will put s on pur prayer chain at church…..hugs

  19. I am so sorry for your friend and for you.
    When my BIL was dying I got this book and it was fantastic http://www.amazon.co.uk/What-Can-Help-Practical-Frontline/dp/1904977391
    It had lots of the ideas talked about above and more. What he appreciated whilst he was still well enough was doing the stuff he loved – eating out, listening to music – with his friends as if nothing was going on and they were on some mysterious extended holiday. What my sister appreciated was help with the kids, food – but she also said everyone brought mammoth dishes of things which got wasted, lifts to the hospital, help paying for cleaners, people who could put my parents up when they came to stay. The other thing they both liked is people saying I will do X rather than what can I do – as the 2nd version was easier to refuse out of politeness when really deep down they knew they needed the help but did not want to impose.
    Also your friend’s partner will need help when she is gone and will want to talk about her way after most people will be thinking why dont they just get on with thier lives already.

  20. Oh I am so sorry to hear this 😦 I wish you peace and strength through this tough time.

  21. When I hear of stories like this, my heart breaks for the kids that are going to grow up without their parent. Is there something you can help her do for her kids? Create memory books or scrapbooks of sorts for each of her children?

    I am sorry your friend is going through this. It just isn’t fair.

  22. How terrible. I’m so sorry.

  23. Oh Serenity, I am so so sorry.

  24. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry is never enough, but I don’t know what else there is.

  25. I’m sorry.

  26. I just found your blog, but I am so sorry. My mother-in-law had the same thing happen – breast cancer moved to her bones. They treated it with hormones and chemo, and she survived another year. That time with her was precious, but still too short.

    I think the best thing you can do is let your friend know you love her and are there if she needs to talk, needs a hug, needs a meal, needs a laugh… And if you pray, PRAY A LOT!

  27. I’m sorry.

  28. Cristina Apron Strings hit the nail on the head. My best friend Patty died of breast cancer 8 years ago at age 34. During the last year of her life a few of her lifelong friends just disappeared – or they’d send flowers instead of calling or visiting. That broke Patty’s heart. Fortunately most of us were there for her – some brought meals, I came over and helped her 1-2 days per week while her husband was at work. The important thing is to be there for your friend and if she wants to talk, let her talk, if she doesn’t want to talk – be there with her silently. My friend refused to talk about death, or how long she had, etc. Other people want to talk about it – everyone is different. Call your friend, send cards, visit her. She may want to write her memoirs, or have a family portait.

    The other important thing is that you get support as well. In order for you to be strong for her, you need to have someone support you as you grieve her illness. I would cry and vent to my mom and to a couple of friends, but it gave me the strength to continue being there for my friend. Hugs darling – this is a difficult journey, but even so there will be beautiful moments. Cherish them and walk with your friend on this journey.

  29. I am so very sorry for the difficult time you are enduring right now. Cancer is a heartless disease without compromise or compassion, and I am so sorry that someone so important to you is going through this, and that you are experiencing this loss. I pray that this time is as gentle for both of you as possible.

  30. This is my first visit to your blog (I found you through LFCA), but I will be praying for you and your friend. It is so hard to lose someone and especially hard when losing them to cancer. My thoughts are with you both!

  31. Oh, I am so sorry. I can’t even imagine. Life is so brutal sometimes.

  32. Oh, shit. I am so very sorry. This sucks. Just sucks.

    I just read through the comments, and so many seem to have great practical advise. I just want to second the part where you line up support for yourself, so that you have an outlet and can be there for your friend in the way that lets you look back on this time later and know that you did what she needed, and what you needed too. Again, I am so sorry.

  33. This just totally breaks my heart. I don’t know how to even begin to wrap my head around this if it was me. Those children…yes, it aches.

  34. I am soo very sorry to hear about your friend….life is incredibly precious…


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