Paying it forward...sorta

When you have cancer, breast or otherwise, you join a club you never wanted to join. Despite people's best efforts, you really can't truly understand what someone with cancer goes through unless you go through it yourself. That's not to say that people can't be supportive and understanding and empathetic...but it's so different when YOU have it growing in your body, and all you want to do is have a surgeon cut it out or your oncologist shrink it into oblivion.

When I found out about my breast cancer, I sought the counsel of others who had been through it. I had some amazing online friends from a message board I visit reach out to me and tell me their stories of fear and survival. They gave me websites and book titles to look up, pictures to view, and quotes to keep me sane. I called them during my diagnostic phase, after the surgery, and in my long emotional recovery I leaned on them. When I made it to the "other side" of my recovery, done with the surgery and treatments and feeling the pat on my head from the surgeons and oncologists with the reminder to "check in once a year or so"--I was free to get on with my life. Of course it wouldn't be the same, but I had this monumental experience behind me.

That is until someone you know approaches you and says "I've been wanting to talk to you...I just found out I have breast cancer." The eyes that look at you were your own--filled with fear and anxiety, hope and yearning. You give her a hug, tell her "I'm so sorry" and you sit and chat for a while. The acronyms, hints, tips, book titles, quotes, and websites that are old hat to you now come rolling off your tongue. You exchange email addresses and phone numbers and offer the support that can only come from a time-tested and world-weary member of the "club."

Over the months you offer support and love, but it's so so different. When it's you that is going through it, it feels like you are doing something. You have some semblance of control because you are wielding the signature on the bottom of the consent forms and it's ultimately your decision what you do and when. And you somewhat know what is going on inside your head. When it's a loved one going through it you feel more helpless. You can't make her believe that everything will be okay. You can't make her go to a cancer support group or read the great blog you found online. You have to let her take control and go through it herself, make her own decisions and just pray that she can come out the other side a stronger woman.

And in the back of my mind I wonder...a year from now when she is done with her treatments and surgeries...will she be sitting at her desk and look up into the fear-filled eyes of another woman who says "I've been wanting to talk to you..."