“I had chemo. And hormone therapy too. I've had it all, but that was seventeen years ago, and I'm fine. You will be too, if you do everything they tell you to do. You have a wonderful doctor.” And then she looked at her more pointedly. Alex was in bad shape and she could see it. “How's Sam taking all this?”
“First he wouldn't even acknowledge it was happening, he kept telling me they wouldn't find anything. And now he's annoyed that I'm upset. He thinks I'm making too much of it, and losing a breast is ‘no big deal,' but at the same time he's saying it might bother him, and he just doesn't know how he feels about it, he'll let me know when he sees it.”
“He's scared, Alex. It's frightening for him, too. That's small consolation for you, but some men just can't cope with the threat of their wife having cancer.”
“His mother died of cancer when he was a kid, and I think this reminds him of it. Either that, or he's just being a bastard.”
“Maybe a little of both. What you need to do now is concentrate on you. Never mind him. Sam can take care of himself, especially if he's not going to take care of you. What you need to do is get as strong as you can, and stay that way. You have to fight the disease. You can worry about everything else later.”
“But what if he's disgusted by me, if my body frightens him?” That was terrifying her, as Liz looked at her calmly. All her sympathy was for Alex, not Sam. She knew. She'd been through it, and it hadn't been easy for her either. Her husband had had a hard time coping at first, but eventually he had come around, and been a big support to Liz. But she knew, better than anyone, that with or without Sam, Alex had to survive this.
“He'll have to grow up, won't he? He's a big boy, he can figure it out. He knows what you need now, but if he can't provide it, then you have to get it from friends, or family, or a support group. We're here for you. I'm here, anytime you need me.” Alex started to cry again then, and Liz took her in her motherly arms and held her.
She gave Alex a few exercises to do, and told her some things to think about, and she didn't leave her any booklets. She knew Alex too well to do that. Alex had no patience with brochures or superficial information. She got right to the heart of things. And for her, the heart of things right now was survival.
“When are you going home?”
“Probably Friday.”
“Fine. Get strong, sleep a lot, take the medications, if you're in pain. Eat regularly, get as healthy as you can before you start chemo. You're going to need all your energy for that,” she said wisely.
“I'm coming back to the office after next week.” She said it tentatively as though asking Liz's opinion. It was suddenly very comforting to have someone to talk to who'd been there. And Liz had survived it.
“A lot of women go back to work, even during chemo. You'll just have to figure what works best for you, when to rest, when to stay home, when to take the most advantage of your energy. It's a little bit like waging a war. All you want to do is win. Never forget that. And no matter how miserable it is, chemo will help you win this.”
“I wish I believed that.”
“Don't listen to the horror stories, and just keep your focus on the goal. Win, win, win. Don't even let Sam distract you from that. If he can't help you, forget him for now.” Alex laughed at the vehemence with which Liz said it.
“You make me feel better.” And then she looked at her secretary sheepishly, amazed at this other life she'd known nothing about. It was incredible how there were things about people no one knew, and that were so important. Just as no one had known she was coming to have a biopsy, and possibly surgery, while she was away from the office.
“I think I was very rude this morning to some woman from your support group. Alice something,” Alex said apologetically, and Liz smiled at her.
“Ayres. She's used to it. Maybe one day you'll do something like this. It means a lot to a lot