I met Matt and Norman around the same time, they were roomates. Norman was Matt's "alter ego", he suggested to Matt what to do on our dates, what do wear (all jokingly of couse) and conversely relied on our opinion about his new girlfirends. The three of us roller bladed, skied, and even lived together for a short while, for two weeks before I moved in with my roomate Jennifer. Norman, Matt and I were the three musketeers. Norman and I ganged up on Matt many times. I even had to help him dress one morning when he was in a cast and Matt was already at work. Needless to say, I have a lot of fond memories with Norman and later with him and his wife Dawn. Norman married at 43 or 44 and two years later baby William was born. William was born this past December, 3 months premature but doing well. That is what Norman said late December when we last saw him.
Three weeks ago we found out he had been diagnosed with liver cancer. A few days later I learned it had spread to his lungs and that he was starting Chimotherapy right away. We learned on Friday that the cancer spread to his spine and that he was undergoing radiation treatment, at the hospital. Chimo will resume once the spinal tumor is eradicated (or maybe diminished).
I am also told he is a Stage 4 cancer.
Dawn, his wife, called me back today. She was holding it together but for how much longer? She's seen her newborn on the weekends for the last 6 weeks so she could take care of Norman. Her mom has been living with them since February. How will all this end? I don't know but the thought of Stage 4 cancer in vital organs sends images of death to my mind. This guy has had such a tough life....it's just not fair. Dawn, William..... it really pisses me off.
I'll be going in to NY where they live as much as possible in April to help Dawn out. I hope to God I can bring some light and hope. I also hope I won't have to go see him in the hospital as he deteriorates. IF he deteriorates.
If any of you can give me some ideas on what to tell Dawn, anything to be morally supportive, I'd appreciate it. I'll draw from own experience too but I was in different shoes when my mother lived through this.
Stream of consciousness is in English, desolee les filles. Merci. Bisous
3 commentaires:
Juste un mot vite, je reviendrai à ton blog plus longuement, mais là je pars en coup de vent.
Au centre de cancérologie, dans les chambres de chimio, j'ai vu des gens qui ont eu des cancers au stade 4. Des filles avec des metastases au cerveau, dans le dos, au foie etc, des cas où on ne donnait pas cher de leur peau.
Le traitement est un chemin de croix, mais d'un stade 4 on peut revenir. C'est possible, dur, mais possible. Je les vois ces gens, toutes les 3 semaines à l'hosto. TON AMI PEUT S'EN SORTIR. Ca va pas être de la tarte. Les infirmières me disent que parfois les hommes baissent les bras plus vite, les filles on est de la mauvaise graine!!!! Il faut qu'il s'accroche et se concentre sur des objectifs brefs, on passe les rayons, on enchaîne sur la chimio, chaque chose en son temps, on réussit chaque étape. Le ultime goal de la survie c'est sur le long terme, mais au début il faut se concentrer sur des objectifs simples (vivre la chimio OK, avoir un soutien psychologique etc). Il faut un peu fragmenter la situation, sinon tout paraît énorme.
Voilà pour mes conseils à l'envolée!!!
Tout ça c'est pour toi Pascale, mais n'aborde pas tes amis en disant "ça se guérit, je sais que untel s'en est sorti etc" parce que au niveau du patient, son cas est unique, et c'est vrai, et il s'en fout des comparaisons, lui c'est son cas et pas celui d'un autre (moi quand on me disait ça, e rageais); Par contre, dis qu'avec eux, vous allez tout faire pour trouver les bons spécialistes, les moyens d'être accompagné sur le plan médical et psychologique, des moyens de vivre le traitement du mieux possible. rend toi utile, ne propose pas, fais, conduis sa femme à l'hosto, prend les enfants, reste avec lui, même sans parler. Action, action, action. Laisse le pleurer, pleure avec lui. Faut que ça sorte. Et puis riez aussi. on se marre aussi parfois entre patients tellement c'est dur.
Ouh la la, j'écris n'importe comment mais je suis bouleversée. Si tu veux, je lui parle ou à sa femme.
Branle bas de combat!!!! Let's fight!!!!
Bises,
Merci laurence...tes conseisl sont precieux dans tous le sens des mots. Je t'ai repondu sur ton adresse hotmail.
Hello Pascale,
I'm glad you shared this struggle of yours and I feel your pain from the close connection to Norman you described. I'm physically far away from you, but this is what friends are for, so I also thank Anne-Claire for creating "les seintes."
It's hard and you're right, life isn't fair. Right now, you will be a great support to Dawn and Norman - a ray of light, like you said. You could maybe bring a familiar meal or snack you guys used to share and a small bottle of wine to let Dawn relax a little and just talk. Just be an ear - let her air all her frustrations and sadness, her questions. Are they at all religious? You know God will take care of them all and He has a greater plan. During sickness and disease, we doubt Him, but that is also the time to reach out to Him. Perhaps you could pray with Dawn?
If they're not spiritual, maybe just do some cleaning together to make her feel better about her surroundings...? Bring her a nice Shaklee product?
Often times, people shy away from friends when cancer strikes - you're doing the opposite which is excellent. You're a wonderful woman, mother and friend. Let this time you spend with them helping, caring, listening be just that, time spent together, crying... laughing. You'll bring your positivitity to Dawn, Norman and little William. Be yourself, as much as that is possible. You'll be in my thoughts and prayers.
I think Laurence's words are very powerful as she battled through cancer on the frontlines and came out triumphant.
If you ever need to vent. cry, or just talk via phone: 647 343-9168.
Bisous,
Bea
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