by Ileana Dragutsa
The telephone rang and threatened not to stop until I picked up the receiver… Either that, or let it go to automatic voice mail pick-up. “Hello , this is Ileana; leave your name and number, your call will be returned soon.” It is always soon; I may be shopping for groceries or a new pair of shoes. I may be picking up the mail or on the telephone. Then again, I may be outdoors admiring my balconyscape, or barbequing a leg of lamb.
Don’t you just hate it when the voice mail message carries on a complete one-sided conversation?
“Hello, you have reached number 555-5555, I am really really sorry I missed your call. Ms Verboso is not here to respond personally just now, but please, please leave a brief message, including date and time you called, your name and telephone number, your availability, and Ms Verboso will return your call As Soon As Possible….. if not sooner.”
At that point, Ms Verboso would be eliminated from my telephone book, if not sooner.
I pick up the receiver before it slips into voice mail mode…
“Hello, this is Ileana.”
“Hi Ileana, I have some news to share with you. Ethel has breast cancer and she is having a very difficult time coming to terms with the result. She has had surgery, but the really bad news is that instead of being supportive as he should, her husband left her because he wants his wife to be a “whole woman”. I hung up the telephone receiver and heard my own voice saying, “What a bastard, I hope his appendage falls off.”
At the time, I was dealing with my own issues but Ethel stayed on my mind for many weeks and I could not fathom the depths of her anguish. I could telephone her, but did not want her to hang up in my ear. I decided to write Ethel a letter, but what does one say to a woman who has a just undergone a radical masectomy resulting in her husband telling her she was not a whole woman. I knew she was angry and bitter.
Dear Ethel:
It’s me, Ileana. I have been thinking about you quite a lot over these past weeks. I won’t begin with a “How are you? I am fine. How’s the weather where you are? It is snowing here.” Never one for beating about the bush, as you know, allow me then to get to the point. Before you shred this letter, please read it first. Then if you care to, discard it as you see fit.
I was sitting on the examining table in the doctor’s office one day last August, chatting and joking with my best friend who had accompanied me. (They tell me it is wise to have a female friend accompany another female to a male doctor’s office). The doctor came in, carrying a written report of an ultra sound of my left breast and a box of Kleenex.
Never one to mince words, or gloss over the truth, he said simply “Ileana, we have some cancer”, then he handed me the box of Kleenex. Of course I was taken aback and allowed my eyes to well up. I looked at my best friend and reached out a hand for support. She said simply “Ileana, you are strong, nothing gets the better of you, you will get over this.”
Ethel, I am getting over this, just as I was promised.
Surgery was next…. Then six rounds of chemotherapy and loss of hair which identifies the woman with cancer….. (Identifies but not stigmatize)… then 25 consecutive rounds of radiation. I determined to carry on with life as normal; and it worked. I knew the 1.5 cm thing in my left breast was gone, along with 6 lymph nodes, and also knew after treatment(s) were over, the rest would be up to me…..
At this moment, I am writing to you in an effort to assure you, Ethel, you are not alone; you will never be alone. No one ever has to go through the survival process alone. Everyone in good conscience and intention is supportive, Ethel. Instead, I will just say, I have breast cancer. I know the feelings of sadness and uncertainly and I recognize every woman in the “sisterhood” goes through these feelings in their own way. You have my telephone number. If you want to scream or tell me to mind my own business that’s OK. My case is not like your’s Ethel. I will not cope in the same way as you or Mary or Robyn. Mary has locked herself in her home and refuses to answer her telephone…. Robyn consoles herself with cigarettes. We are each unique, Ethel, but I have several telephone numbers and email addresses which you may feel free to use, (or not).
I won’t tell you what to do, but I will, tell you what I did not do. I did not curse God; did not question why this happened to me… because I have the answer. Why Not? Am I not a woman susceptible to women’s diseases… it is a crap shoot Ethel, and my roll came up snake-eyes; so now it is time to fix it, and help other women get over it as well. It is what we do, after all, isn’t it? Women! We care about and for each other; we nurture by nature. You are Woman, Ethel, capable of carrying babies… you are the strength and solid ground upon which this world was built, capable of all things, and capable of kicking cancer in the ass. We can and will beat cancer until it is no more…
Ethel, this is what cancer cannot do.
Cancer is so limited….
It cannot cripple Love…
It cannot shatter Hope…
It cannot corrode Faith…
It cannot destroy Peace…
It cannot kill Friendship…
It cannot suppress Memories…
It cannot invade the Soul…
It cannot silence Courage…
It cannot conquer the Spirit…
It cannot steal Eternal Life….
(Author Unknown)
As long as we remember these truths, we will live forever.
Love and Hope
Ileana
About editor
Good advice and well put.