This first person column is the experience of Miguel Salinas, who lives with his wife, Maria Carmona, in Calgary. Each of them wrote their own story about Maria’s journey with cancer. Read Maria’s article here.
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I was trained as an engineer and I am a pragmatist. So when my wife fell ill with cancer five years ago, my approach was to tackle the problem problem by problem to get rid of the problem.
But did I have a lot to learn.
I would like to say that my caregiving journey began five years ago, in a hospital room where my wife, Maria, was lying in bed, barely awake after surgery. She looked tired, had a tube in her throat, and was in pain. She muttered a few words—”You have nothing to worry about, you need to rest”—but her eyes told me she knew I was lying. This procedure confirmed that she had ovarian cancer.
I kissed her on the forehead and headed home.
In the car, I remember being stuck in a long exercise in absurdity, trying to justify what I said, trying to find the silver lining, trying to find hope. The headlights illuminated the descending fog. The streets were empty. I have never felt so much despair, with such loneliness.
My mother died of cancer when I was 11 years old. She was in her early forties. I don’t remember being told what was going on and I have no memories of how my dad dealt with it. But this may be where my skills began to catch on – “just deal with it”.
For the first three months after Maria’s surgery, this “deal with it” approach seemed to work. Medical appointments, recovering from surgery, food, kids at school, work—we had a rhythm, a routine, and a plan.
But I have to smile now looking back. There is a quote attributed to former heavyweight boxing champion Mike Tyson: “Everyone has a plan, until they get punched in the face.”
It was late January, and we were supposed to celebrate our eldest son’s 17th birthday. Instead, we were in and out of the hospital again, completing our third course of treatment. Maria suffered from fatigue, a metallic taste, mouth sores, difficulty going to the bathroom, convulsions, and could not sleep.
I entered our room and found her crying. “Why is this happening to me? I don’t deserve this. What if we’re doing all this and it doesn’t work?”
I tried to show her a Bible verse, 1 Peter 1:7: “These trials will show that your faith is real…”
But when I finished, she looked at me. I could despair.
“How will that help me? I’m still going to die.”
I didn’t know what to do. I could just hug her and cry with her. She was crying on my chest. I felt helpless, weak and useless. I had absolutely no plan.
After that night, it was clear that while I was taking care of certain tasks, I had no idea how to really help. Books about caregiving don’t really prepare you for moments like this. Yes, they have information but how you individually react to the experience, that’s all up to you.
I realized I had to check many preconceived notions about how to address issues. Because this was not a single problem. This was life, and suffering is part of life.
Slowly, I learned to be vulnerable, to appreciate outside help and to listen — I mean really listen to what my wife had to say and let her lead me where she wanted to go.
Today, five years later, my wife continues her journey, taking the drug once a day as part of her treatment. I am amazed at her love of life and her family. And I was amazed at her willingness to find happiness in the midst of adversity, trying to calm herself during a storm. I can only be proud of her and try to be her best support.
I don’t know what the future holds for us. But I know now that it is possible to live and grieve at the same time. I learned to appreciate my surroundings: sunsets, sunrises, birds chirping in the garden, breaking bread with my family, seeing my kids go to school or playing with my puppy.
In the end – no matter how hard, bad or difficult the situation is – it will come to an end at some point. This will pass.
People think winning is cheating death but we are all going to lose that battle. I learned that the real win is the journey.
Tell your story
As part of our ongoing partnership with the Calgary Public Library, CBC Calgary runs writing workshops to support community members telling their own stories. Read more from this workshop Sold out by the Central Library in partnership with the Calgary Women’s Center.
To learn more, suggest a topic or volunteer with a community organization to help host, email CBC producer Elise Stolte or visit cbc.ca/tellingyourstory.
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