Love and Cancer: Omaha! And other bad calls

Starting a relationship during cancer.  Don't do it.  The end.

I wish I had taken my own advice.

I had sort of started to date when I separated from my husband.  Hey don't judge! The divorce was dragging on and on and I wanted to get on with life.  I was newly blond and feeling cute again. Nothing crazy.  I was just meeting people and dating a bit on my no kids weekends.

Then the diagnosis came in November.  And something bizare shifted in the dating universe.  I was beating them off with a stick.  It was like breast cancer was some kind of magnet for men.  I think it appealed to the rescuer in their male ego.  No clue.  But I was overwhelmed.  I had men from Facebook, old high school classmates, friends of friends, and even just going shopping I would get asked out by strangers.

I started to think "Does this mean I'm going to die?  Is he universe sending me someone to see me through all of this?"  It was unsettling.

Some pursued stronger than others.  And somewhere in the mix of it a relationship started.  A long distance relationship.  And at first it was great.  I was getting flowers and calls and texts.  I felt supported.  I felt like a woman instead of just a cancer patient.  But then the visits started and SEEING what I was going through vs just hearing about it became an issue. I should have known it wasn't going to end well when he wouldn't take a couple of days off to come care for me when I had my mastectomy. I was made to feel ashamed for the way my body looked and especially my scars.  I remember a conversation and the statement :

"Your body is gross.  No man wants a woman with all of the scars you have.  And why is chemo making you fat?  I thought cancer made you skinny.  Even your head is swollen. How much longer until you don't look sick and disgusting anymore?  When are you going to look like you used to look?"

I was horrified.  I was ashamed.  I also felt panic.  What if I never looked normal again? He was right.  He is the only would ever love me but I better get normal as fast as I could before he leaves. And so I hung on too tight.  I begged him to stay.  In the course of that he got very jealous and possessive.  If I didn't talk to him every night at the same time I was in trouble.  Even if I was too sick or taking care of kids.  He was convinced I was having an affair with my trainer, my plastic surgeon and a couple of my close guy friends.  He demanded I cut off my relationship with them.  He monitored what I posted in FB and if he didn't like it he would text me and tell me to take it down. And I did.  I did everything he wanted.  After all, no one else would want me. Even he was ashamed of me.  We rarely went out in public when we visited each other.  And I have one picture of us together.  One. On top of that I was paying for everything.  I was an uninsured single Mom with breast cancer and I was flitting the bill for EVERYTHING including airline tickets.  Yeah, I blame it on chemo brain.

The best thing that ever happened to me was when a family member saw him in his state with another woman and we ended things.  I was devastated.  And completely and totally relieved.   But I was damaged.  Sick and damaged.

I swore off dating.  I knew I would be single forever because of cancer. I focused on my treatments and surgeries and especially my kids.  They were struggling.  At first they were sad we broke up but then Keegan was laying on the bathroom floor with me one night and he said "Mom, I'm glad he's gone.  He made you cry more than cancer."  And he was right.

It was a great summer.  We did a lot of fun stuff.  But I was feeling ashamed of my body and cancer.  I would take my kids to the pool, but sit in the shade fully clothed.  I didn't want anyone to see me.  I wore a hat.  I didn't want to embarrass my kids.

I had my first couple of reconstructions and the haze of depression started to lift.  I started feeling better about how I looked.  I was putting out really good energy and it was making all the difference.

I was caught off guard when I met a local guy.  He didn't seem phased by my short hair and my diagnosis.  He was very kind and loving.  He treated me with respect.  He even had kids near the same age as my kids.  And another relationship was born.  We started dating the end of October and I was very very cautious.  I was so worried he would leave if he ever saw my chest.

Just a couple of weeks after we started dating I had another surgery.  The nipple one that didn't take and I had to do the hyperbaric chamber for a month.  He wasn't phased.  He did grow tired of our time together always being laying around watching movies but he understood I was very ill and told me he was just happy to be with me.  It was such a nice change.

Then December came and Deana died.  Even after spending Christmas together with our kids, I could not cope with Deana's death.  I spiraled into depression again.  And I fought it for months.  I shut him out.  I shut everyone except my kids out.  He didn't have a chance.  He tried though.  And he never quit on me.  But by summer I was rarely giving him any time.  I look back now and I know I was completely terrified of anyone else leaving my life, so I just ended it first.  My terms.  I know I hurt him deeply.  I learned a tremendous amount from that relationship and we are still friends.

Through it all I had one guy friend that kept me sane.  Kept my believing not all men sucked.  Not all men are scared of cancer and scars.  He was my rock.  And has been for 20 years.  But in the end cancer took him away from me too.  I hear updates about him and I know he is happy. His life is better since he chose to move on.  I miss him everyday.

Cancer takes and takes and takes.  It gives too.  It gives you fear and doubt.  It makes you question everything about life and yourself.  And it also gives blessings.

I remember standing completely naked in front of a full length mirror one night.  I had not a hair on my body from head to toe.  No breasts.  Drains hanging out.  Dressings from my recent hysterectomy I looked awful from months of chemo and now seizures.  My lips were cracked.  My eyes sunken in. My nails were chewed and unpolished. I could see my port. I didn't even look human let alone like woman.

I just stared.

What am I? Everything that made me a woman was gone.  WAS I still a woman?

I stared.  I touched my scars.  And then I had moment.  An awakening.

I realized what made me a woman was NOT my long hair.  My breasts.  My uterus. None of these things. What makes me a woman is what is inside.  My heart.  My soul.  My spirit.  How I love. What I contribute.

And then I just let it all go.  I said goodbye.  Goodbye to what I used to be.  Goodbye to all that I lost. Goodbye to cancer. It was a moment of rebirth.  I came into this world naked and crying.  I was reborn again that night, naked and crying.  Both moments were pure joy.

Since that day I know who I am.  I know what matters.  My body, with scars, stretch marks, squish, aches and pains is pretty damn fucking amazing because of what dwells within that body.  And the only person that I really need to truly honor that.....is me.