Stepping Up to the Plate

It’s been just over a week now since I found out my best friend has cancer, and my fingers still stumbled over that word as though typing it makes it more real or potent and my fingers had some independent resistance to the idea of putting those letters in that particular order in reference to that particular subject.

I don’t know why I’m writing today except that I felt the need to.  It’s been a long time since I could honestly say I felt a need to write, and I should be glad for that fact.  The truth is, I’ve really been struggling the past few days.

When he first went to the hospital I was freaked out and upset, but managed to keep my cool, by sheer force of will when necessary.  I got my work done for the most part, centered myself for a few minutes alone in my car before each hospital visit so I could put on the strongest and most neutral disposition before entering that place which has always so terrified me.  I ate; I slept.  Okay, maybe not as regularly or as healthily as in times past, but that’s to be expected to some degree.

The past week, however, my emotional state has sadly taken a melancholy turn.  While Joey himself has buoyed me up on almost every visit with his positivity, his optimism, the sheer volume of love, caring, strength and well-wishes surrounding him in a whirlwind of protective care, with his sheer normalcy in more ways than I kept expecting… the times between visits seemed to dull and wane in comparison.  Going home, alone, to my empty apartment, which still doesn’t feel like home because I haven’t had the energy to spare to put it in order since the move, became a daunting proposal, and I’ve spent far too many nights on couches, air mattresses and visiting friends and family, Joey’s parents’ house included.  I’ve been putting in far less than my usual effort at work and piling up guilt at missed deadlines and sluggish progress.  Everyone has been understanding, but I feel like nobody has actually understood (not that that makes any sense whatsoever).

Before I fall down into melodrama, let me pull back for a moment.  The support I’ve gained from my own friends and family has been wonderful, but I have not yet felt truly comfortable reaching out for it.  After all, I’m not the one who’s sick.  I’m not the one who *needs* support, right?  And yet, after seven years of always counting on one person in particular for emotional support… that one person is not only the cause of my emotional distress but is unavailable for support at the present time.  I can’t go to him for support, because that would be inappropriate.  And because he’s busy.  And sick.  And tired.  And surrounded by his own ever-growing support network.

I’m lonely.  It has come to my attention that during the years that Joey and I have been nearly exclusively codependent in our social lives, I have sadly grown more and more distant from the rest of my friends, and for this realization I am ashamed.  I miss my friends.  More selfishly and to the point, I realized that without Joey to turn to, who has always been there to turn to, who lived 15 feet from my room and was always THERE, I didn’t know where to turn.

The answer to that became painfully obvious when I stopped to think about it.  I have an amazing and wonderful boyfriend who has proved beyond a shadow of a doubt his willingness to support me through these tough times, to listen and to take care of simple things like my car registration stickers which I just wouldn’t have remembered otherwise.  It’s always been difficult for me to talk to people about my emotional struggles, and after spending years getting to that point in my friendship with Joey where we can talk about absolutely anything, it’s hard for me to allow myself to venture down that road with a newer relationship, one which deep down I may still be afraid of losing if I screw up too badly.

I’ve got great friends waiting in the wings who are all too happy to lend a helping hand, an ear, a couch to crash on, now that I’ve stopped being silly and remembered they were right there all along.  I visited my parents over the weekend for a Mother’s Day surprise evening, and gained comfort from the familiarity of home and puppy and family.  I’ve shared my most recent blog post with a group of about 20 coworkers who I feel familiar enough with that I want them to have the opportunity to be aware of what’s going on in my personal life should they so wish, and have received some really heartfelt reachings-out in kind from several of them over the past day and a half.

I’m sure there’s some saying about how it’s only in crisis that you realize who your true friends are or something like that.  All I know so far is that it’s in crisis that you discover what kind of person you really are.  I’m a person who doesn’t handle crisis very well, at least right away.  But I am stronger by far than I was seven years ago.  Joey and I have changed each other; we’ve made each other stronger, more capable, more mature.  He’s helped me to fashion armor to withstand the tides of adult life, and by his words I’ve softened his brittle edges to be able to accept the comforts of those around him.  We’ve made each other feel less alone, and I know that I am handling this entire situation far better than seven-years-ago-me ever could have imagined possible, because of all those changes and more.

I don’t have this all figured out yet.  I’m still going to screw up.  I’m going to cry at inappropriate times (like in my office when I should be working), I’m going to stay up too late talking until 2am because the conversation is far more important to me than sleep (and then pay for it the next day).  I’m going to feel lost, and alone, and embarrassed, and weak.  But I’m going to get through this, because I know I can.  Because I must.  Because how can I be there, ready and willing to support my friend when the going gets tough or when he can’t be the shining example of positivity and purpose he has shown thus far because he is physically weakened by the poisons coursing through his veins, by the war going on beneath the surface… How can I be ready and waiting to catch him if he should stumble, if I am myself lying in a puddle on the ground?

There is no conclusion, no answer, not yet.  This is just me thinking aloud for the benefit of whoever cares to listen.  I’m here, and I’m learning and working and figuring all this out.  And if that seems right to you, if you support my struggle, if you have suggestions or comments or questions or just want to hear more, please post in the comments before so I know you’re listening.  Thank you for being here with me, for making me less alone.

Please, head on over to Joey's blog to read more.  He wrote a truly eloquent piece yesterday about us and our struggle which had me in tears, and he said so much more in a shorter space than I could have managed. Perspective Odysseum: http://perspectiveodysseum.blogspot.com/.  He truly is a fantastic writer, but go see for yourself and share in his journey.

The Words Nobody Wants to Say

Wednesday, May 8th, 2013

Six days ago, my best friend and roommate was admitted to the hospital for what I, at the time, still thought was a nasty case of Bronchitis.

Joey and I have been best friends since my sophomore year of college, seven years ago.  We’ve supported each other through good and bad relationships, breakups, illnesses, academic and social problems, and financial difficulties.  I would not be who I am today without my funny, confident, often philosophical writer friend, and I am just recently coming to see the ways in which I have changed him as well.

When I first came to college, I was a scared, naïve, painfully shy teenager.  Joey was the one who patiently cracked me out of my shell one piece of a time, taught me self-confidence and self-assessment, helped me to analyze my thoughts and feelings and to act on them accordingly.  He helped me to meet new friends, to become more involved in the club we both attended, to eventually run for and become Vice President of said club.  He was the one friend I could count on to always listen, to always understand, to not judge me.  I trusted him with all my secrets, and he kept them faithfully.

Over the years our friendship evolved as we became college roommates, then graduates working to support ourselves (and not always succeeding).  We supported each other when one and then the other of us became unemployed, much to the disapproval of some friends and family members.  We helped a young couple who were our close friends when they became pregnant and helped them raise their newborn child for six months.  We lived through heartbreaks together, worked through anger together, and spent far too much time being broke together.

Six days ago, the person I have always leaned on for support, who I have always come to with my troubles, was himself in trouble.  He had found a lump in his neck, in addition to the respiratory problems and bruising on his chest, and finally got worried enough to go to the hospital despite having no insurance.

I spent that night nervously sitting in a tiny room with Joey and his parents, awaiting test results that seemed like they would never come.  They put him on blood thinners to start working on the blood clot in his neck, which was most likely caused by whatever was in his chest that they were doing the CT scan to determine.  By two o’clock in the morning we had run out of meaningless things to talk about and were simply waiting.  The doctors came in and gave us more vague answers.  Said they had found a mass in his chest, that they wanted to do a biopsy on the lump in his neck.  More tests, more scans.  The results would take several days.

Over the weekend, I was a part of my older brother’s wedding, and managed (barely) to quiet my fears and worries about my friend enough to play my part, to be joyful and feel my family’s love and enjoy the evening, yet I checked in regularly with Joey.  Still no news, but he was in great spirits and was already making jokes, keeping his parents in good spirits and, very like himself, completely charming all the nurses with his legendary charisma and wit and that big goofy grin of his.

The night before the diagnosis was finalized, I sat up in the hospital room with Joey and his parents again, talking about everything.  About the word nobody wanted to say until it was official but which we all knew was going to be the answer.  By then they had already surgically implanted a chemo port into his chest, silently telling everyone present that they expected to start Chemo as soon as they knew which type it was.  He told us that no matter the prognosis, he considers this a victory.  That he’s not afraid.  He told us that whether he lives for five years or fifty years, this whole thing has given him the certainty that he will make the most of that time in deliberate purposeful action, and that he will not squander another moment of the life he has to live.  He is ready to fight, and he is ready for whatever happens.  And seeing as how he’s supported me through everything for seven years, I figure it’s about time I start truly supporting him in return, so how can I be any less determined, any less ready to fight alongside him?

We may as well just come out and say it at this point, as I’m sure you’ve figured it out and we had too: My best friend has cancer.

Even now my hands tremble as I type that word, that awful word.  Cancer.  The diagnosis came in on Monday while I was at work and it was more complex than I expected.  He has Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma, which is a fairly aggressive form of Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma.  We had hoped for Hodgkins, as it is purportedly more curable and also more common in his age bracket, but the doctors are still optimistic as they seem to have caught it fairly early.  The tumor in his chest measured about 10 centimeters at the time of the CT scan, and the lymph nodes in his neck were the only other masses they found.  We’re still waiting on a bone marrow biopsy, but for the time being we believe he is only at stage two, meaning they can kill the tumors in a matter of weeks and then just work on making sure they don’t come back.

When Joey told me about his diagnosis, he seemed relieved.  To know for sure what it was, and how to go about dealing with it, must have been a load off his mind.  The waiting, as they say, is the worst part.  But for me, the worst part so far has been not being there while everything is happening.  Being at work, trying my hardest to be productive and interact normally while my BEST friend, my Big Brother, is in a hospital bed having poison pumped into his veins and just waiting for some crazy adverse reaction.  Waiting for his hair to fall out.  Waiting for him to start puking uncontrollably.  Waiting to see if the Chemo actually does what it’s supposed to.

From here on out it’s really just one waiting game after another, and all I can continue to do is be as confident, as calm and as supportive as I can be, because he needs and deserves that from me, and because he helped to make me into a person who can do that, who can support someone else with strength and courage.  It is because of his friendship that I can live up to my end of the bargain and be his support during this crazy time.

Today is day 2 of chemo treatments.  Chances are his hair will start falling out any day now, and he’s decided to go ahead and get a buzz cut to reduce the trauma of that event.  He was still feeling pretty well when I saw him last night, if exhausted and slightly nauseous, but we are told repeatedly about how far medicine has come and how the drugs they use nowadays are so much better than they used to be.  All that being said, they have no more idea what his body’s reaction will be than we do, and they, as we, are waiting to react to whatever happens.

Throughout this entire process so far, Joey’s positivity and strength have helped the rest of us to cope.  At a time when we are each trying to be strong for him, it is his strength which gives us the strength to do so, if that makes any sense.  I told him on the night before he began chemo that “I have always been terrified of hospitals… but this time is different.  Because you’re here.  Because it’s where I need to be.  This time I am much more terrified of going home to my empty apartment than of spending time here with you.”  The apartment, which we were supposed to share for a few months, is now being emptied of his belongings as they are moved over to his parents’ house, where he will be residing for the duration of his treatment.

Joey has such a sense of purpose now, of motivation to live his life well and purposefully and to make a difference to others who are struggling.  He is keeping busy by writing in a blog and keeping in constant contact with all the friends, family members and other well-wishers who have been messaging him since his announcement through Facebook on the evening of the diagnosis.  He has also told members of the hospital staff of his willingness and desire to share his thoughts and experiences with others who are struggling, to speak at cancer survivor events or with others who have recently been diagnosed and share that positivity with them.  He told me upon his diagnosis that he “was okay with this.  Really okay,” and I couldn’t believe that could possibly be true.  But I am coming to believe it now, and I am working towards being okay with this too, with his help.  And through this website.

On my most recent visit to the hospital, Joey told me (and a room full of family members, nursing staff and the hospital social worker) that the thing that helps him most right now is knowing that he’s helping others.  He wants to write, to speak, to talk to other survivors and people fighting cancer and to spread his positivity to them, and his attitude is so infectious that he had all of us laughing and smiling along with us.  This while lying in a hospital bed with a tube sticking out of his chest, poison pouring through his veins and making him slightly radioactive, and feeling nausea and exhaustion.  He’s one of the most amazing people I know, and I will do everything in my power to make this fight easier on him and on his family.

To follow the progress of his journey from his amazing first-person perspective, please read and follow his blog, Perspective Odysseum (http://perspectiveodysseum.blogspot.com/) and leave some words of support.

Attention Bridgewater College Students!

Get a Head Start: Career Exploration Day 2012

By: Kathleen Herring, Career Services

                Are you starting to wonder what you will do after graduation?  Now’s the time to meet alumni and business professionals and discover your options!  The Office of Career Services has its annual Career Exploration Day on Tuesday, October 30^th from 9am to noon in Nininger Hall.  Speak with graduates in your major to hear about their experiences during the transition from college to career, make important networking connections for your future job search, and practice your professional manner in a stress-free environment.

                Justin Pruett, from the class of 2005, shares his experience from last year’s event: “Any time I can have a chance to come back to Bridgewater and talk to students about what I’ve been able to do with my Bridgewater College degree, it’s always a benefit to me.”  His advice to this year’s attendees: don’t be afraid to talk about your college experience.  These are BC alumni, so it will give you a connecting point and tell them something about you as a person and not just your academic record.

                There will be over fifty BC alumni at this year’s event, including employees from Rockingham County Public schools, Augusta Health, Harrisonburg Parks and Recreation, the Defense Intelligence Agency, and many more!  Come and explore opportunities for job contacts, internships and career advice and play the Networking Game for a chance to win great prizes, including a Kindle!

                Erin Pampe, from the class of 2012, says “I think everyone should come to career exploration day, whether you’re a freshman or a senior getting ready to graduate, because you don’t really know what’s out there until you go look for yourself.  It’s an easy way to see how Bridgewater College can impact [your] career.”

                When choosing to attend this event, it’s important to dress professionally and bring a winning attitude and a few copies of your resume.  You never know when you might make the connection that will lead to your future career, so it’s always best to be prepared and to put your best foot forward.  In today’s difficult job market, many believe that networking is the key to success.  Kristin Young, from the class of 2005, explains: “Definitely Networking… that’s the key to getting that job and getting into the position or area that you need to go to.  Meet the people who are already in those positions.  Getting your name out there and meeting people is the best thing to do this day.”

                Come on out on October 30^th for networking opportunities, games, prizes, and Convocation credit!  For more information, please contact Sherry Talbott in the office of Career Services (stalbott@bridgewater.edu).