How Do I Tell My Family?

Talk FamilyI’m get­ting married on Sun­day, and I still don’t know whether or not I should tell my family and friends about my early diag­no­sis of breast can­cer. After all, the doc­tor hasn’t done all the tests yet, and it might not be breast can­cer after all. A girl can hope, can’t she?

Ques­tions flood my mind in the moments bet­ween tears. Dam­mit! I don’t have time for tears! I have a wed­ding to pre­pare for.

My fian­cee and I talk about how to handle this. We decide we don’t want to tell anyone just yet. After all, we want tears of joy at our wed­ding, not tears of sorrow. We don’t want peo­ple crying over how “tra­gic” this is, on the hap­piest day of our lives.

But my mother knows I had a doctor’s appoint­ment yes­ter­day, and she is per­sis­tent when she asks me how it went. I tell her “We don’t know anything for sure yet, but I told the nurse that if it is bad news, I don’t want to know until after the wedding”.

Without bat­ting an eye, my mother looks at me and says “Well of course, for legal rea­sons”. It took me a few moments to figure out what the heck she was tal­king about. Sud­denly it dawns on me that she is impl­ying that my won­der­ful husband-​​to-​​be pro­bably won’t want to marry me if he knows I have breast can­cer before the wed­ding! The horror of her impli­ca­tion sinks in, and I am shoc­ked by it.

This moment is the first of what I am sure will be many moments I look back on as life’s little “les­sons” in sur­vi­ving this. I rea­lize that her con­cern is based on her love for me, howe­ver mis­pla­ced her con­cerns may be. In that moment, she no lon­ger sees me as beau­ti­ful, vibrant, in love with life, with a man who loves me in both sick­ness and in health. She sees me the way many peo­ple will soon see me, a woman who deser­ves pity rather than admi­ra­tion, a woman who has “a disease” and is fla­wed in some way. She belie­ves that in sick­ness, my won­der­ful fian­cee may not be willing to take this path at my side, and that I may be more trou­ble than I’m worth.

I breathe slowly for a few moments, let­ting my imme­diate anger flow out of my body, con­cen­tra­ting on sta­ying posi­tive and unders­tan­ding that she is worried about me and loves me.

And I walk away without saying a word.

This moment is a les­son I am sure will be repea­ted often in the coming months. Not ever­yone will know what to say, nor will ever­yone say the right things at the right times. The most impor­tant thing for me to remem­ber is that for me to heal, I must remain clo­sely focu­sed on being posi­tive, seeing the humor in everything, and fin­ding my happy place to retreat to when I need peace and tranquility.

In fact, this moment reminds me of the impor­tance of kee­ping this diag­no­sis just bet­ween us for a while, at least until after the wed­ding. Rather than bur­den our family and friends with kno­wing about my “con­di­tion”, Michel and I decide we will stay focu­sed on our beau­ti­ful day, our wed­ding, the hap­piest day of our lives (so far) and we will wait to share our news until after the wed­ding and honeymoon.

4 Comments so far »

  1. Artamia said on:

    September 9, 2006 at 5:08 am

    Dear Syl­vie,

    May you be Bles­sed on your hea­ling jour­ney. You are already a can­cer warrior and a sur­vi­vor — because you do not fear it.

    As Dr. Mani said: “…The good news: the can­cer is bea­ta­ble… It is a fight you WILL win — keep up the great atti­tude… YOU, Syl­vie, most defi­ni­tely are a WINNER!”

    When you are diag­no­sed with can­cer, you have options… You have will, ima­gi­na­tion, power­ful natu­ral body’s abi­li­ties within you that you can sti­mu­late by using your emo­tions, mind and its crea­tive hea­ling ima­gery… Let all your happy memo­ries and love that surround you create a shield and help you fight the cancer.

    The mirac­les are ready — if our mind be-​​so.”

    *
    May our pra­yers Bless You,
    Syl­vie, with love and health
    for these are the
    true mea­su­res of
    joy and wealth.

    *
    May our Pra­yers grant you light­ness in your step,
    a smile on every face you meet,
    Loved ones gathe­red at your hearth,
    and at your door, good friends to greet.

    A happy smile upon your lips,
    a win­dow candle bur­ning bright,
    And may our Pra­yers bless your
    Heart and come to dwell there
    days and nights.

    *
    May your friends’ love and pra­yers be the sentry
    that stands guard over your health and shield it from
    all harm, and may our Bles­sings sent your way,
    sus­tain and help you win the battle with cancer!

    By all our Pra­yers may you be bles­sed today.

    *
    There’s the joy of hope in all our bles­sings
    and pra­yers sent for you,
    There’s love and friendship,
    There’s a touch of magic, too.

    There’s a hope that love and laugh­ter
    Will steal your heart away
    And a pra­yer that all you’re wishing
    God grant you and yours
    Today, and next Mon­day,
    Sep­tem­ber the 11th … and always.
    And may you be bles­sed
    during all your hea­ling path.

    May our Bles­sings keep you safe, and May our
    Pra­yers keep you strong and stop the harm.

    ***

    (Edi­ted and adap­ted from Irish Bles­sings for Syl­vie For­tin,
    a Lover, a Wife, a Mother, a God­dess, a Warrior and a Victor)

  2. Roxane said on:

    September 9, 2006 at 3:08 pm

    Hello you gor­geous woman you. ;)

    When you told me the news of your diag­no­sis, I remem­ber thin­king how unfair and cruel the whole situa­tion was. You were about to get married in a few days…you nee­ded and deser­ved to be enve­lop­ped in a cocoon of love and happy events to cherish.…and then this! These thoughts ran through my head in a flash…and then I shook myself and thought that regard­less what this is, it is.

    It is not a sen­tence nor are you a vic­tim. You are a woman I know very well, whom I love and che­rish that got dealt a bad card. Having been pre­sent during both my paren’t fight with can­cer, I remem­ber the nega­tive envi­ron­ment in which my family lived and how the pain was overwhel­ming at times. But I was pro­jec­ting on you my past expe­rience with it. I have also been bles­sed with sha­ring some posi­tive ones and you are no excep­tion. I made a deal with myself that day…what to hear it? ;)

    You do not need my tears or my worry because I KNOW…without a sha­dow of a doubt, that you will win this battle. You are very much a warrior and have been marching to your own drum for a long time. I am deeply proud of your accom­plish­ments and your heart. You are a suc­cess, not because of your career but because you are you. Not plain and sim­ple but beau­ti­fully com­plex and perfect…just as you are!

    I would just like to share with ever­yone a few wis­doms learnt from having shoul­de­red another though this battle. These come from my expe­rien­ces but I hope they can assist others in remem­be­ring what IS important.

    I, myself, can­not treat the can­cer but I can be a shoul­der for the woman and your family. You are not an exten­sion of your can­cer but a strong, vibrant, loving woman living with cancer.

    There is a dif­fe­rence there and one that does not change you.

    You are and will always be; beau­ti­ful (inside and out), femi­nine, human, inte­lli­gent, crea­tive, loving, and sexy. That doesn’t change because of what you are living, I feel it enhan­ces it actually. You are ever remin­ded of the moment. You do not deserve pity as pity is food for others having a hard time living with your news. It is, as I did for a split second, a pro­jec­tion of fear.

    It is ok to be afraid or sca­red and this may be a won­der­ful oppor­tu­nity to face something that may be dif­fi­cult to many. It is not an end but a begin­ning. One of many more I am sure of. A “lump” in the road as you men­tio­ned. But this lovely lump shall to pass.
    Laugh, joke, be posi­tive and you will see that this is not a death sen­tence but an oppor­tu­nity to expe­rience a soul at a far dee­per level. An oppor­tu­nity to grow.

    To our family, I wish you cou­rage and send you my love.

    Michel and Syl­vie, you are truly an ins­pi­ra­tion. Syl­vie, I send you my pra­yers, posi­tive bles­sings and my love.

    Roxane

  3. Nell Taliercio said on:

    September 11, 2006 at 1:04 am

    You know, I’ve gone through a pretty terri­ble year myself and I’ve found that most peo­ple do not know what to say or how to say it and often say something that isn’t very help­ful. But I try very hard to unders­tand they truly do care and just don’t know what to say.

    I think you are one brave woman and know you will look can­cer right in the eye and not back down until it is des­tro­yed. You have a uni­que spi­rit and with Michael and your family’s love and sup­port you WILL make it through and be stron­ger in the end.

  4. Bonnie Fournier said on:

    September 11, 2006 at 1:27 pm

    Dear Syl­vie and Michel;

    My thoughts and good vibes are with you both.

    I am a Reti­red Nurse and I am very fami­liar with the Sur­gery and Reco­very pro­cess from Mastectomies.

    Com­mitt­ment, loyalty and gratitude…these apply to family, friends, Phy­si­cians and all the expe­rien­ced, dedi­ca­ted to your Health needs.

    Your Michel is loyal and filled with love for you…I feel it in his mailings.

    You have Family that love and sup­port you with all they can muster…AND
    there are so many faces you have never seen who are chee­ring you on with thoughts and spiritually.

    Can­cer has no face so there isn’t a need to see our face…just feel our love and hopes for you and Michel…the strength is there with you…

    Warmly,
    Bonnie

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