The Fallible Caregiver Series: "Am I Enjoying Life?"

"Am I enjoying life?" I found myself pondering this question on a recent lonely drive. Have I truly embraced the joy of being alive in this world? Throughout my life, my answer has always been a resounding "Absolutely!" Yet, on that particular day behind the wheel, I hesitated between a half-hearted "yes" and a hesitant "not so much."

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My wife and stage 4 metastatic breast cancer

Reflecting further on this question, I began to unravel the roots of my discontent, which seemed to intertwine with my marriage. For the past 8 years, my wife, 37, has been waging a relentless battle against stage 4 breast cancer—a journey we've shared for the entirety of our 9-year marriage. The ceaseless onslaught of cancer treatments has exacted a toll on her and, consequently, on us.

Beneath the surface, I harbor a reservoir of simmering anger, often concealed but occasionally bubbling to the surface. It's the frustration of witnessing my wife's gradual transformation from who she once was to who she is now—a consequence of years of chemotherapy, radiation, surgeries, failed clinical trials, and a failed brain surgery.

Although the cancer itself seems to be in retreat, its aftermath lingers, leaving my wife frequently incapacitated, unable to attend to my needs or invest in our relationship. Despite numerous heartfelt conversations and entreaties, meaningful changes remain elusive, leaving me to grapple with feelings of isolation and resentment.

Reflecting on acceptance

Amid my contemplations, another realization dawned upon me—one centered around the concept of acceptance. I recalled a conversation with my dad concerning my mother's struggles with alcoholism. Despite my efforts to intervene, my dad had found solace and serenity through acceptance, embracing my mother as she was, imperfections and all.

Could I apply the same principle to my situation? As a recovering alcoholic, I am familiar with the tenets of the Serenity Prayer—grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. Perhaps, in accepting my wife's altered reality, I could find peace and grace amidst the struggles I feel. She's doing the best she can. The key word there is "she." She is not me.

While realizing all this doesn't automatically help me feel happy about everything, it does help me chill some and it also helps me love a little more. There are things my wife simply cannot do anymore, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Is it fair of me to expect her to be and do what most of the time she just cannot?

Gradually, I began to acknowledge that my wife is not the same person she once was, and neither am I. She is still the woman I fell in love with; she was dealt a tough hand. Recognizing this distinction, I am trying to temper my expectations to cease holding her hostage to my nostalgic yearnings.

Adjusting my expectations of my wife

During the months my wife and I were engaged, a good friend gave me a book on marriage titled "Great Expectations." It warns about not letting our unrealistic expectations ruin our relationships. We often prove to be hypocrites because we expect much from others, especially our spouses or partners, while not holding ourselves to that same standard. We will run our ships aground when we believe that unless our loved one fulfills all our expectations we cannot be happy. I think I need to re-read that book.

Acceptance is the way forward

I'm still working on all these ideas and thoughts. I haven't reached some magical pinnacle of acceptance where I'm always happy, but I'm making progress. I'm trying to learn how to align my expectations and desires with reality and not hold my wife hostage to my selfish fantasies. Rather than expecting her to be what she used to be before cancer, I think a better way is for me to learn to adjust my expectations closer to where she is now.

Again, these realizations don't fix our problems or my discontent, but they help. They help me relax more, shave away some of that resentment I feel, and rekindle that early compassion and love.