Cancer, in Denial

All is over now, the long weary road of emotional turmoil that I suppose every caregiver endures, fighting for the survival of a loved cancer victim.

"John has lost so much weight after his double bi-pass operation to his heart, was it not a success?" This question was asked of me continuously. My answer, filled with indignation, was that John was actually extremely well, his operation a total success, he just had, had another operation this time to his colon. He is as fit as can be and is so looking forward to retirement, we are planning to do a little touring in our beautiful country of South Africa.

Very positive words for our future which ironically became pie in the sky dreams. John had his first colon resection performed in 2008. The surgeons could not give the reason why his colon had turned in on itself, causing a total blockage. John in future you must cut down on your love of red meat and fatty meals, warned the surgeon. John might have liked his meat, but honestly who can realistically afford that kind of diet today. Fatty foods, not while I've been chief cook, take-away foods, fast foods never ever entered our home. John and I always maintained that we could prepare a better and more well balanced meal for our family.

Websites on colonopathy(disease of the colon) gave warnings that 99,5% of all patients within a year after their first operation, are once again under the surgeon's knife with yet another colon blockage. John validated their statistics with his second, almost a year later in 2009. The result was one of his worst nightmares, he awoke from surgery with a colostomy(surgical opening of abdomen, bringing out colon, thus bi-passing rectum). Medical science's ability to prolong life is remarkable and I am grateful to them for their astounding achievements. The colostomy, transferring it's contents into a bag, was to John and I the worst thing that had ever happened in his life. Undignified, smelly, noisy, totally mindless, the bag would decide to leak anywhere, in the middle of shopping malls, visiting friends. This "thing" began to rule our lives. The little demonic bag was in the forefront of our worries, the pathology report, on the other hand, which showed cancer cells within the inner walls of the section they removed, was not that serious to us.

The oncologist said it seemed that the surgeon most probably had removed all cancer cells. You are actually only a type 2 cancer patient, he said to my husband, but because no biopsy was performed during the operation on any lymph glands, we are classing you as type 3. Just to be thorough, he administered the chemotherapy dosage for the higher level.

I agree, that some medical information should be hidden from patients. My husband elected to have oral (tablet form) chemotherapy, and every three weeks, a few hours of intravenous drips. We lived more than 100 kilometers from the medical facility, so this treatment suited us just fine. The problem was that John never took his cancer seriously. He first would tell friends and family that they, the surgeons, think they found some "loose cannon" cells, to eventually actually saying he does not know why he has to endure this treatment because he does not have cancer.

His denial of the cancer, made him very indifferent in taking his tablets. I had always been dutiful with his chronic medication, so I therefore took responsibility in administering his chemotherapy. The frustration I had to endure with his obstinacy. The tablets had to be taken half an hour after a meal every 12 hours. John was decidedly difficult, he was either not hungry, not in the mood and his favourite excuse was "later on", and so his medication management never gained any rhythm. We wasted time and fruitless energy on arguments.

I so regret not exposing him to his oncologist, I cowardly with embarrassment remained silent when he smugly lied about how diligent and seriously he was taking his medication. I use to dread those consultations, I threatened to reveal his lack of compliance, this did not deter him as he knew I did not have the courage to follow through.

John my husband passed away in December 2010, a third blockage and riddled with cancer, no denial and too far advanced for further chemotherapy.

They say denial is not facing up to the truth. His denial was more cancerous than the malignant cells taking over his body. For me to make a conjecture, does not help my tears as I flushed wasted pill after pill down our bathroom toilet.