This week I started watching the series Breaking Bad on Netflix. (So far, despite the violence, I have found it quite interesting.) In the episode I watched last night, the family is having a meeting to try to convince the main character to pursue radical, “live saving” medical treatment, which he is not inclined to do.
As I sat there watching, I found myself understanding both sides of the argument. I have been the person with cancer, and I have been the family of someone who decided not to pursue that “lifesaving” treatment. It was weird, because suddenly I was feeling the emotions from both sides… and that was quite contradictory.
Let me back up quite a bit to explain…
Well before Bruce and I ever left MI, he had watched both his mother and his sister go through the ravages of cancer treatments. It was heartbreaking to watch the tears form in his eyes whenever he spoke about it. I even remember one conversation where we both stated that we weren’t so sure either of us would do that… Was it worth it? … The life-style changes? The health issues that follow because of that “lifesaving” treatment? Was the goal to truly live your life or to simply breathe and survive?
(Here, I need to state that both of these women have left me in awe… Both underwent very radical treatments and have gone forward to live their lives with more gusto and fullness than I could ever imagine even on my healthiest of days.)
Now fast-forward to our move to Florida. Bruce had been laid-off for quite a while. Now, whether it was inactivity or the lack of a work distraction, he started noticing some health issues and made a doctor’s appointment. Since Bruce was not one to go to the doctor unless he absolutely had to, this caught my attention. I knew if he was that concerned about what he was feeling, I needed to be concerned too.
The day of his appointment came and went. A week or two later, he returned to discuss all the test results… This is where it got weird…
That evening at dinner, I asked Bruce how the appointment had gone. (Knowing how private Bruce was, I knew I needed to ask in an indirect way… Still, he had shared some of his concerns, so I felt it was okay to at least inquire.)
“Fine,” he said, never looking me in the eye. “She told me to just keep doing what I’m doing.”
“No way,” I responded, knowing that he was not the picture of healthy living at that time. “You’re lying.”
“No, I swear,” he answered, finally looking at me. “She told me to just keep doing what I’m doing.”
“So, everything is fine?”
“I guess so.”
For years, I have gone through this conversation in my head over and over. I will bet the conversation was more than likely one of… “If you aren’t going to do __________, then just keep doing what you’re doing.” I say this because so many things suddenly started happening.
For example, after more than a year of stalling, suddenly Bruce was on a mission to buy a house – someplace where “the mortgage could be managed easily on one salary”. (I can’t tell you how many times I heard that.) After we found that home, his next mission was to double his life insurance policy. There were also little hints, such as the sudden appearance of a stack of “important papers” on the kitchen counter by a man who believed in putting everything where it belonged – no stacks of papers anywhere.
But I never clued in…
Then, he died, and suddenly all these little things seemed liked clues that he knew what was coming. That new life insurance policy? … The new policy paperwork arrived for his final signature two days after he passed away. That stack of papers on the counter? … Every document I could possibly need after he died was in that stack… And list just seems to go on – so many things that suddenly made sense in the light of his death.
Much later, while packing away his things, I came across paperwork for some test on his heart… Tests dated five months prior to his death. Tests, that according to his doctor, he never completed… I couldn’t help but believe that he didn’t do them because he already knew what they would say… And it wasn’t good.
I won’t lie… I was angry… I was very angry. All I could think about was that I would do anything to be with Bruce… Why didn’t he? … It hurt so bad…
Now fast-forward about five years, and suddenly I am diagnosed with cancer… Suddenly, I am the one in the hot seat with choices to make. Initially, I decided I was not going to do the chemo/radiation thing. Then, after some research, I decided I was going to go full in – double mastectomy… take it all so I don’t have to ever worry about it again. Yet, after more research and more discussions with my healthcare team and my family, I decided to go less radical with a lumpectomy, then the chemo, radiation, and follow-up meds, as recommended.
The bottom-line, though, was… it was my choice. I did what I felt was right for me in that time and space. No, it was not anything I thought I would do years prior when Bruce and I had talked in our little MI kitchen. Nor was it what I thought I would do when first diagnosed. Instead, it was an evolution of thought that occurred over time and in the context of my life.
But it was my decision… my choice… And ever since that day, I have found myself with a very strong opinion about others (including the government) trying to make medical decisions for others. Our health is personal. Our lives are all different, with each having its own unique set of challenges and experiences.
Suddenly, I understood… Finally, I wasn’t so angry at Bruce anymore… He had made his decision. He felt that he was doing the right thing in that time and in that space… And while he chose not to share his burden with anyone, he was doing all he could to make the burden of his death a little bit easier for those of us left behind, (especially me).
As I watched the show last night and listened to each character speak about how they felt, I understood all of them… Every heartfelt statement made sense. Yet, my biggest support was for the main character, as he listened and weighed what each had to say before he explained his own thoughts and feelings on the matter.
In my heart, I was shouting, “Okay… y’all have had your say for him to consider. Now let it go… It is his choice, not yours. Like almost everything else our lives, accept that ultimately it is his choice, and learn to all be at peace with that.”
And that is where my heart is today… As I said, I lost that anger years ago when I suddenly found myself making decisions about “radical, lifesaving” healthcare. Granted, I made a different decision… that time. But who knows what my choice will be if confronted again?
Why? Because these decisions aren’t black and white… There are a lot of things to be considered. In my heart, I don’t believe that Bruce wanted to die. I do believe that he weighed the facts as he knew them and made the decision that he felt was best… I don’t like him being dead, but I respect his decision… I still grieve his death, but I am no longer angry. Instead, I am at peace knowing that he did what he felt was best… And that feels so much better in my heart.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.
Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.
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