every journey begins with but a single step

My wife, Steph just started a blog.  I thought I might as well.

We are having some serious problems and have for a while.  I am writing a memoir about my struggle with cancer and what it did to us, my family and friends.  That is kind of designed to help people understand the psychological effects of what an extreme cancer patient goes through and what it does to those around them as well.  This is in an attempt to simply get my feelings out there on the day to day.  I will make an effort not to bash my wife for mistakes she has made or how bad things are between us, but should people want to know how I am feeling these days, this will be a good place to look, as I have the time on my hands to express things.  I will warn you, things may often be a bit dark, maybe sexual, maybe a bit hard to read.  If that is not your cup of tea, feel free to avoid the blog.

I worked out really hard today.  I have avoided it in the past, as even when I feel good working out since my surgery and recovery from cancer, my body has gone through so much trauma, that I am incapable of doing anything for several days afterward.  My liver and kidney function are not great, so toxins in my body have trouble being processed.  They also had to remove several of my lymph nodes, so things don't move around like they should.  I no longer care about the consequences and I will get into why in a bit.  First, some background.

I used to love working out.  As, some of you may remember me in high school and through most of college,  I took pride in my body.  When the cancer started to grow in me like a large baby pressing against my spine, I was in too much pain to continue.  Also if I raised my arm at the wrong angle, my back would go into spasms sending me into convulsions on the floor.  I hated that.  I always like to be in shape.  I like to be strong and confident that should a physical challenge arise, I would be ready.  Even if it is just helping a friend move something heavy, or carrying my wife to bed to make love in very athletic ways.  I have not been able to say I was in that kind of shape for several years now, and it effects my self worth.  Not because I wish I looked better or was hit on more, but because I miss being able to dunk, or know that I could.  I miss knowing that if my wife's purse was stolen, I could chase the guy down and beat the tar out of him.  I miss being a man.

Over the past nearly couple of years, I have tried working out many many times.  I had been assured now that the cancer was out of me, my back would be fine.  I think a big part of the problem was that they had to cut through my abdomenal wall with a massive incision that goes nearly from stem to sternum (the stem being my penis) to get the largest of the lumps and it never quite healed right.  This means my back is not receiving the counterbalance it should, either it receives little to no tension from my severely weakened abs or incredible tension from my stomach tightening in the severe pain I still feel.  That coupled with the fact that I am in debilitating pain for several days after I exert myself, since my body cannot properly filter my blood, means, I spend most days sitting on the couch, playing music, writing or watching tv and playing videogames.

I wanted to avoid severe pain for two reasons, neither of them having anything to do with me.  I wanted to be as spry and physically able to do whatever Steph might want to do, should she want to go out and do something or even on the off chance that she would want to make love, I wanted to be at full availability.  Frankly, it happens infrequently, so I do not wish to be out of commission during the few times she is up for either wanting to go out with me or have sex with me.  The other reason, is Steph has had to deal with me in severe pain for years now.  When I am in pain I am either introspective, trying to turn it off and ignore it and make it go away, or I am surly and short tempered.  Both of these made Steph not want to be around me when I finally got off my pain killers.  I wanted to mitigate the amount of pain I was in by not exerting myself.

I realized today, that there is no use.  So, tomorrow I will be in extreme, excruciating pain.  For those of you who have spent any amount of time in hospitals, my pain level will be about an 8.  But, when everyday it is a seven, the small bump is not going to make a difference.  I have made a real effort to make people believe I am getting better and being more active.  I am going on long walks and riding the stationary bike Steph's parents gave us nearly every day.  I have said to many people that I will be able to go back to work soon.  It is true that I will, but not because I am any better or in any less pain.  I am going back to work by sheer force of will.  If you have been around me lately and I seem more active and capable of standing longer and doing more things, it is not because I am feeling any better, but because with every step, I overcome the pain that would keep me down.  I am even trying to act like I am doing better in front of Steph...she had been the one person I was actually honest with about how I felt.  I was even honest with my body language.  She hated that.  I would act so chipper and good with guests or friends, but when we were alone, I would slump over in either introspection and meditation or lash out with surliness.  Lately, I have been trying to act better around her, though I feel no better.  I do not believe she has noticed.  She has been patient with me, but she sees me sitting around doing very little, and thinks I am a waste of space.  She does not see that it is all geared around her.  Well, tomorrow I will be in severe pain, but that is only slightly worse than what I am used to.  Tomorrow I will be impossible to be around, but that is only slightly worse than what Steph is used to.

I don't want to give the impression that Steph is uncaring or does not love me anymore.  It is understandable that her tactic has been to run away from me and us when I am so hard to be around, treat her poorly and don't appear to be doing anything for myself.  But this working out that I am going to start doing, and doing hard, is not for her.  It is not even to give me something constructive to do to better myself.  It is totally and completely for one reason.  I want to hurt myself, but in a way that is socially acceptable.  In a way that will make people happy rather than worried.  I am not gonna start drinking hard or doing cocaine, I am going to work out an unhealthy amount just for the pain.  When the woman you love more than anyone in the world thinks you are worthless it causes a lot of emotional pain. Now, to her credit, she is mostly right.  I am not fun or easy to be around.  I am not doing any interesting things with my life right now.  I am just getting by and recovering.  The only people that can stand to be around me are those that dearly love me, and Steph forces herself to be around me more than anyone else.  It has to get old for her being around such a surly, nasty man.  Recently she admitted to me that she is not sure she wants a future for us, and that was about the hardest news I have had to take.  It was worse than hearing I may never be able to have children or even wondering if she is cheating on me.  Understanding that it makes sense she feels that way doesn't make me feel any better, in fact it makes me feel worse.  Since it seems like I can't do anything about that right now, I am just going to put myself in a lot of physical, "healthy" pain.  I am going to make my outsides match my insides.