Anonymous

The phone rang and it was the call that everyone who has gone through cancer will never ever forget.

“Hello, This is Dr. So-and-so, I’m sorry to tell you that you have breast cancer.” This realization did not seem real. My world collapsed; my body collapsed!

“Not me! It can’t be me! I’m young and healthy. I’m a mom. I’m a wife. I’m a daughter. I have a daughter. I am going to die!” I thought, though that was not the realization I had.

This month marks six years since my cancer diagnosis. Today my words to anyone (including myself) would be: No, you are not going to die. Well, we are all going to die one day but right now, you are going to fight. You are going to survive. That was the realization!

I like to call myself a survivor. The truth is that cancer does not mean life is over. It comes in all shapes and forms, but with a positive mind and spirit, you can find strength from within. In the beginning of my diagnosis, I wasn’t open to accepting help or advice. When I look back now, I realize that it was the support and guidance that I received from other survivors that helped me the most. There is no one better to help guide you than someone who has been in your shoes.

I was the 1 in 8 chosen to get breast cancer. It was a stressful time, that I won’t deny. For me, once I allowed myself to grieve, I was able to get mad and prepare myself for the fight. I realized the importance of listening very carefully to my doctors, educating myself and asking lots of questions. That would ultimately help cure my cancer. I also determined that by accepting what I have been dealt, it allowed me to put my energy into being well again. I may have lost my breasts, but I was put back together by an amazing team of doctors. If I wasn’t clear headed, I never would have been able to move forward and make the important life decisions that I was faced with making.

I took the news of my diagnosis very hard. For me, the worst part was the mental and emotional breakdown, and not the physical part or the cancer itself. After I went through the grieving, anxiety and depression, I somehow had a fire within me telling me that I was not going to die. I will have a strong body again. I will shower myself with good vibes and I will heal — and that’s just what I did.

The traumatic and emotional part of cancer will always stay with me, but cancer itself has made me who I am today. I am stronger. I am wiser. I no longer take things for granted and most importantly, I choose to be kind because you never know what a person is going through. It could be cancer.

I will forever be grateful for the life I have ahead of me. I am a stronger person. I am a changed person, but I fought, and I won and I’m a survivor.

One realization to me that I did not know before, but I know now is: Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.

You need to have hope and believe you will make it to tomorrow and the day after ... and the day after that… and live life to your fullest. You are a warrior and a survivor too.

This post was written and submitted by an anonymous writer. The article reflects the views of the writer and not of CURE®. This is also not supposed to be intended as medical advice.

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Articles

My cancer diagnosis — and the emotional effects that came with it — made me who I am today. 

Cancer Helped Me Choose Kindness

“Tell me something I can't forget,” he whispered into my ear. The words were unexpected, and I wasn't quite sure how to respond. After thinking for a few minutes, I could think of only one thing to say to my sweet husband, “I have cancer.” His startled look made me want to cry.

Leaning in, I wiped the escaped tear from his cheek. “Are they sure,” he asked. I nodded and said, "Yes."

Our unspoken broken had begun. From that day forward, things rapidly changed. Our once very physical relationship suddenly turned cold. I was in shock. Weeks earlier, I'd faced one of the most difficult challenges of my life and now, the man I loved was rejecting me.

I began to rethink my decision not to have reconstructive surgery. After having both breasts removed due to invasive ductal carcinoma, I wondered if I should've made the choice to have new breasts constructed from body fat. We'd talked about it and had agreed the decision was mine to make. He said he’d support whatever I decided to do. But apparently, that wasn't completely true.

Each time I tried to discuss our lack of physical intimacy, he disengaged. “We don't have a problem,” he would say. Or he’d respond with, “We still love each other.” And we did. We did still love each other, but things were vastly different since my diagnosis.

Month after month, I tried to find ways of approaching the subject, but the chasm of brokenness grew larger. I internalized my feelings and so did he. We were both hurting and didn't know how to fix the problem.

Cancer had drastically changed our relationship.

Both in our sixties with no other health issues, we should have been able to enjoy a healthy sexual relationship, but that hadn't been the case. We barely touched anymore. Every now and then, we'd give each other a kiss or a hug in passing but nothing more. It was as if the burning fires of our pre-cancer days had been completely extinguished. There weren't even smoldering embers left.

It's been almost five years since we've been physically intimate. My heart hurts for what's been lost. And although he's never said so, I believe he's hurting, too.

Speaking about the unspoken broken is difficult, but my hope is, in sharing my story, that someone else might feel less alone. I'm sure there are others out there struggling with the same types of problems.

A sexual relationship can certainly be affected by health issues. Cancer is just one of many diseases that can affect intimacy. So how do we, as patients, survivors, and partners, face the challenges associated with these health-related changes?

In our case, we've decided to accept our brokenness and allow the difficulties a place in our lives. For many, that would be an unacceptable solution. Each person facing cancer must decide how to deal with these types of challenges. For some, counseling might offer acceptable results. For others, a different course of action may be preferred.

Breast cancer doesn't come with rules or guidelines. For those like my husband and I, we figure it out as we go. Sometimes we make wise decisions and sometimes we don't. Most of the time, we wing it.

Unnecessary suffering doesn't have to be part of a person's life. Talk to your doctor and ask for help instead of struggling with the unspoken broken like we have.

Sexual intimacy is part of a healthy relationship, but it isn't the whole. Some relationships can thrive despite the lack of physical intimacy.

And, I still cling to the hope that with love, all things are possible.

“It was as if the burning fires of our pre-cancer days had been completely extinguished. There weren't even smoldering embers left.”
 

How Cancer Drastically Changed My Marriage

Any expert in the field of marriage and relationship counseling would more than likely agree that the physical relationship is an important aspect for a healthy marriage. Sexual intimacy provides a closeness that transcends the boundaries of other relationships. It provides both fulfillment and enjoyment, but what happens when that relationship is drastically changed by unexpected health problems? How do the marriage partners cope?

There have been many articles written about sexual intimacy and breast cancer. Most of these speak in generalities and provide statistics but, while these articles are informative and well written, they don’t necessarily address real-life scenarios. I’d like to change that today by providing a glimpse into my world.

Not long after I’d had surgery for breast cancer, I noticed a change in my husband. Once very attentive and affectionate, he became distant and aloof. At first, I attributed the change to his acceptance of my new physical appearance, which was drastically different. He’d always been very playful and loved to touch me. I gave him space and waited patiently for things to change, but they didn’t. Weeks and months went by without any physical contact and I began to become concerned.

Thinking I was the problem, I began paying more attention to my physical appearance. Every morning, I’d look through my wardrobe to find something frilly and feminine. I’d spend extra time on my hair and makeup, making sure I’d look my best when he came home from work. But he didn’t seem to notice. Soon, it began to feel like we were two ships passing in the night. Our marriage had changed. We were living as roommates.

I’d try to make physical advances toward him, but my attempts were unfruitful. He would always shun my advances and change the subject by saying he was too tired, or he had to get up early the next morning for a project at work. The rejection hurt. I began to wonder if he was being unfaithful, but I knew him well and trusted him completely.

As the problem grew more prevalent, I knew it was important that we discuss the situation. Neither of us seemed happy. Each time I brought up the subject of sexual intimacy, he’d invent some excuse and tell me we were fine, but I knew we weren’t.

Taking it upon myself, I began to pay more attention. I’d find more ways to physically touch him during the day. If I’d pass his chair, I’d make sure my hand would brush his shoulder as I walked by. I didn’t want him to forget what my touch felt like, even though I’d forgotten his.

I began marking off days on the calendar and before I knew it, two years had passed. I talked to close friends and asked for advice. Most of them recommended we seek counseling.

When I mentioned counseling to my husband, he immediately refused. He said, “We’re OK.” I disagreed.

Every day, I was an emotional wreck. I cried countless tears. I didn’t want to live this way.

Finally, I was able to approach my husband with the truth of how I was feeling. I showed him the calendar I’d been keeping and when I pointed out the last time we’d been intimate, he couldn’t believe it’d been two years ago.

Needing to hear his side, I begged him to share how he was feeling and why we weren’t being intimate. Reluctantly, he said he just wasn’t attracted to me any longer. He explained that he did still love me, but there were no physical feelings. He was unable to become aroused. Without my breasts, he explained it was just difficult, and that’s when I realized we’d never be the same again.

I’ve resigned myself to accept that my marriage will never be the way it once had been. Of course, we still love each other dearly, but the physical aspect of our relationship is gone.

It’s hard to understand exactly what happened and when things changed, but I know breast cancer had a lot to do with it.

When I stand in front of the mirror, I see a very sad, lonely and broken woman. It’s understandable that he no longer finds me physically attractive, but I can’t help but wish he did.

When we said our marriage vows, we promised to love each other in sickness and in health until death do us part. He has done that in every way except one.

How many other women who’ve been through breast cancer have experienced difficulty in their marriages? I’m sure there are many although most won’t share because it’s too hard. Losing one, or as in my case, both breasts, has been a dramatic, life-altering change in my own life and in the life of my marriage.

There’s still time. I could still seek counseling, and even if he won’t go with me, I can go alone; but I choose not to. Talking about intimacy is too much. I can’t afford to be that vulnerable. Perhaps you’re wondering if that’s the case, why I am sharing this post, but if you’ll notice, I’m sharing anonymously.

So where do we go from here? I’m not sure. All I can do is take one day at a time and keep holding on to hope. I love my husband and I know he loves me, but I need the physical intimacy we once had.

Speaking about the “unspoken broken” has been extremely difficult but maybe it will help someone else realize it’s okay to talk about their own issues with intimacy and the physical aspect of marriage.

Breast cancer affects all aspects of a marriage. Intimacy is one of the most affected areas, but is also one of the least talked about. In this article, learn how one survivor’s life has been drastically changed.
 

Speaking Out About the Unspoken Broken

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, the furthest thing from my mind was sex. I didn’t give a thought to what losing my breasts would do to my sex life or how it would impact me in that area. My focus was on getting through surgery and treatment. I was in survival mode. My husband and I did not discuss anything related to sex. It wasn’t a priority.

After surgery, my body was weak and sore. Along with both breasts, I’d had several lymph nodes removed. Healing took months. As soon as I’d recovered from surgery, I was thrown into treatment which caused me to experience major fatigue and many emotional changes. My husband was patient and understanding during that time, never demanding to have sexual relations with me. Although we didn’t discuss the impact of breast cancer on our sexual intimacy, it was very significant.

Although most women who experience breast cancer may not be aware of the fact, difficulties with sex after cancer are very common. For the unaffected spouse, fear of hurting their partner during sexual activity prevent them from pursuing intimacy. They may feel guilty for wanting to impose their needs upon their partner so they forego sexual relations. This lack of interest can be perceived as rejection for the woman who’s been through cancer. It can be overwhelming to go through the trauma of breast cancer and then face the loss of a physical relationship with a partner.

In our culture, breasts are perceived as being sexual. Men are wired to be visual creatures and for many men, breasts are a sexual turn on. When men see exposed breasts, they often become aroused. In a marriage, this is normal and acceptable. But what happens when the breasts are gone? Breasts are one of the most sensitive erogenous zones for many women. The nipple, once stimulated, can excite sexual arousal. For women who’ve had one or both breasts removed, this creates a challenge. Some women feel their breasts are a major part of their sexual identity. I was one of those people.

Radiation made my breasts become red and sore. They were very painful to touch. My mastectomy scars were uncomfortable and hypersensitive. My chest area remained numb for months and months. When I had both of my breasts removed, I was surprised at how quickly my body image and self-esteem lowered. I felt there was something wrong with me. I felt I was deficient. I not only expected rejection from my husband, I created it. I declared myself unattractive and unworthy of love. I radiated despair and withdrew emotionally from his attempts to show me affection. I withdrew from any sexual advances and had no desire to experience intimacy again. I assumed this was par for the course, an after effect of breast cancer.  I would just have to accept this new normal. I was very self-conscious and did not want my husband to see me without clothes. I often went into another room to undress just so he wouldn’t see me. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I felt I had nothing to offer. My breasts had been my femininity. Now they were gone.

My husband very gentle and sensitive toward me. As we both learned to accept the changes in my body, neither of us focused on sex. We found it OK not to have sexual relations. We’d been married long enough that we knew each other well. We respected each other. For months and months, we barely touched. We still loved each other. We still cared about each other, but it was different. When I confronted him about his lack of interest in me, he was shocked. I told him I felt rejected. He explained he had avoided making any physical demands on me for fear of physically hurting me. We cried for each other’s private pain but were glad to have it finally out in the open.

Without physical touch, I felt unloved. I began to spiral into an emotional depression. We were struggling. Neither of us knew how to survive this situation. No one in our family had dealt with breast cancer. It was foreign and new to us. We faced many difficult days and often found ourselves angry, frustrated or in tears. During that time, my husband turned to internet pornography to have his needs met. This discovery almost dissolved our marriage. I didn’t know how much more I could take. Cancer had stolen my breasts, almost decimated my marriage, and had caused my husband to be alienated from me. I knew we needed counseling but neither of us felt the freedom to ask for help. After confronting my husband about his new vice and sharing my heartbreak and hurt over it, we finally reconciled. I talked to him candidly and helped him see his decision to do this was not only disrespectful toward me but screamed I was no longer desirable in his eyes. I’m not sure he completely understood my pain but he listened and agreed to end his addiction. We both agreed to try to regain our physical intimacy and sexual relationship.

Our first few attempts at sexual intercourse failed. He could not get aroused and I felt even more unlovely than ever before. Without my breasts, I found other parts of my body were very sensitive to touch. Having had bilateral mastectomies, all of the nerve endings in my chest area were numb but my back was extremely sensitive. I assumed this would be a new erogenous zone and shared the information with my husband but we both ended up being disappointed.

Months went by with no physical touch other than an occasional hug. Due to insomnia and painful lymphedema, I began to sleep in another room. My husband never complained or asked me to return to our bedroom. He seemed perfectly fine with the arrangement. I slept alone for a couple of weeks and then decided to return to our room. I did my best to initiate physical intimacy. I moved close and tried cuddling. He rolled over and went to sleep. I tried touching him but nothing seemed to work. The rejection returned.

It’s been six months now since we’ve been intimate. I’ve given up hope and have resigned myself to a life of celibacy. My husband seems content and doesn’t make advances toward me. Sometimes I worry he’s involved in internet pornography again, but I hope that’s not the case.

If I’d known things were going to be this difficult after surgery, I may have elected not to have had surgery.

I feel a little betrayed by my doctors. None of them offered advice or counseling in this area before or after surgery. Of course, my husband and I are partly to blame. We could have and probably should have asked for help, but we didn’t.

If I could give some advice to the medical professionals, I would suggest they make sure all aspects of life after cancer are discussed. They need to be sensitive and listen carefully to the concerns of their patients. The woman about to experience surgery or treatment needs to know how cancer might impact her marriage or partnership. Not all women will experience the same types of devastating events I’ve experienced, but they probably will experience some form of change to their sexual relationship.  It would have been nice to have been prepared for this type of challenge in advance.

Advice I’d give to women who’ve been through surgery or treatment —

Understand your going to experience many emotional and physical changes.

Learning to accept your new body image may be difficult.

Chemotherapy or radiation may cause unpleasant side effects that will directly affect the physical relationship with your partner. Cancer can cause physical problems such as vaginal dryness, hot flashes, weight gain, depression and a decreased sex drive. Discuss any problems with your doctor and ask for help. You may want to ask your doctor for a prescription vaginal lubricant or hormone cream to help with dryness. It may be necessary to try an anti-depressant for a period of time.

Your sexual relationship with your spouse or partner may change. It’s important to have a game plan before you need it. You may need to get creative in the bedroom. Routines may need tweaking because the old way of doing things doesn’t work any longer. Unrealistic expectations that things will just pick back up where they left off aren’t always true, especially as they relate to sexual intimacy.

It might be best to avoid sexual intimacy immediately after surgery and for a time short time longer. Waiting until your body has healed will give both you and your partner time to accept and understand changes to your body. When you are ready, take things slowly. Being anxious the first time intimacy is attempted after breast cancer surgery is natural. It’s difficult to know what to expect. Share your feelings and concerns with your partner. Talk openly and honestly. Take things one small step at a time. Be patient and remember to love yourself.  

I continue to have hope for my marriage. I love my husband dearly and want to be intimate with him. I know he still loves me too, because he tells me this every day. The challenge of conquering sexual intimacy issues related to cancer persist but with patience and love, we’ll hopefully find a way to express our love once again.

It was extremely difficult to share this deeply personal part of my cancer experience. I’ve asked the magazine editor to keep my identity private because of the sensitivity of this article. My intention in sharing my personal story has been to help or encourage someone who may be going through their own difficult time with sexual intimacy now. As a cancer survivor, I’ve found it always helps to know I’m not alone in the things I experience and I’m sure others feel the same way, too. 

Anonymous

Cancer Helped Me Choose Kindness

How Cancer Drastically Changed My Marriage

Speaking Out About the Unspoken Broken

Sex After Breast Cancer: One Survivor's Experience

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