The Big "C"

I'll start off by saying that this blog is meant to be a catharsis of sorts...something to help me deal with all the emotions I'm feeling surrounding my boyfriends fight with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. For more information from his perspective, check out Chris' blog. 

My journey as a "cancer caregiver" began about two months ago, at the end of March. I was in my second to last week of my final teaching practicum when I got the news that my boyfriend of almost 3 years had a large mass in his chest. At the time we didn't know anything other than the fact that a) it was big and b) it obviously wasn't supposed to be there. That day will forever be etched into my mind as it was technically the "start" of all that is to come and is where my story begins...

As I said, I had about a week and a half until I was finally finished my teaching degree. That week I had been super sick with some bug that was floating around the school. I wound up going home at lunch that Thursday because I was feeling so crappy. My boyfriend Chris texted me asking me to let him know when I was home because he was going to come over. He had been dealing with a persistent cough and had been home sick as well, but it still seemed kind of odd that he wanted to come over. I remember asking him if everything was all right and his reply of "hopefully" had me thinking that he was either going to do some really weird marriage proposal or he was going to tell me some really bad news. Unfortunately, it was the latter. When he got to my house I answered the door looking my absolute best (old pyjamas, a baggy sweatshirt and kleenex in hand) and I lead him to the couch. "Okay, what's up?" was the only thing I could get out. He looked at me and told me that he had gone into the clinic the previous night and the doctor there had told him some news--he had a large mass in his chest. My mind immediately went to, "it's cancer," but before the tears came he told me that we didn't know anything yet. I cried for what seemed like forever, with all the horrendous possibilities running through my head. I had just lost my Grandpa to cancer not even a month before and the one year anniversary of my uncle's death from brain cancer had just passed as well. I felt sick--sicker than I had felt before the news. We spent the remainder of the day together, but as he began telling others in my presence, my parents and his sister, it seemed to get harder to hear, not easier. 

The next month and half consisted of CT scans, X-rays, multiple blood tests and two different biopsy's. Although the original clinic doctor had mentioned Lymphoma, Chris' cardiothoracic surgeon seemed to be leaning towards a Germ Cell Tumour of sorts. For some reason, the Germ Cell tumour seemed like the better option to me. I spent that month and a half researching things that were most likely in no relation to whatever Chris wound up having. I poured hours of my days looking up different diseases and side effects of drugs he would probably never be on. Chris continued to tell me that it was useless to look up things because we had no idea what it was. Despite that constant "advice," it helped me feel more in control of the situation. I've always been a planner, someone who likes to know what is going to come, so the not knowing was driving me crazy. I should also mentioned that while I am very patient with small children, I am rarely patient with waiting. The fact that the whole diagnostic process was taking FOREVER was making me very frustrated and angry at the whole medical system, as unfair as that probably was. 

On May 11th, 2012 Chris was finally given the diagnosis of Mediastinal Large B-Cell Lymphoma--Cancer. I managed to hold it together the entire ride home as he relayed all the information (of which there was not much) to his parents on speaker-phone. All we knew was that he had been referred to the BC Cancer Agency and that there would be a bit more waiting between now and then. After I dropped Chris off, I broke down in the car...I had been doing that a lot over the past while, crying in the car or in places where nobody could hear or see me. I think that is the hardest part, I don't like showing how scared or upset this whole "journey" is making me but at the same time I feel like I'm going to fall apart at any second. I think for me, as the girlfriend of someone with cancer, the hardest part is trying to appear strong and optimistic and to hold in my own feelings about what could possibly happen. I'll admit, I've never been the 'eternal optimist,' in fact the people closest to me will probably say I'm the exact opposite. But that makes it hard when a positive attitude is so often linked with good outcomes, so I think that is one of the major things I'm going to need to work on over the next few months.

Chris' 27th birthday is tomorrow and we're celebrating by getting a bone marrow aspiration in the morning and capping the day off with an endoscopy...and maybe some cake later on. He starts Chemotherapy on Friday and will go through 6 rounds every 21 days. Chris is the eternal optimist--the characteristic I probably love most about him, so he keeps telling me we're going to have his birthday party the Saturday after his first treatment. My greatest hope right now, is that the stomach pain he has been having the past couple weeks is not the cancer spreading and that the bone marrow biopsy shows no sign of it spreading to his blood. My greatest fear right now is that the cancer has spread beyond the original tumour. 

I'll finish off this post by thanking those closest to me for being there for support and encouragement. Chris needs to focus on getting better and maintaining his positive outlook which means he needs to rely on me for support, not the other way around. So to those of you who have reached out and said you're thinking of us, thank you...I know I couldn't do this without you. Stay tuned for my next update and feel free to contact me if you want more information about anything. 

Thank you for reading!

Kaitlin