They also serve who stand and wait... Or, in this case, watch.

Beware!  This post is a little longer than some...  But I feel the need to write down my feelings on it and the people that join us on our journey.

Is it really that hard to watch family member or friend with cancer? You better believe it is! It's a very hard, stressful, emotional time for everyone involved.  Not to mention being scary as hell. These times have been the scariest times of my life. 

What makes it so hard from the standpoint of family and friends? Think about it… When a person has cancer, everyone has the patient first and foremost on their minds. While we watch, most of us try to do anything we can to help make things easier for the patient. Just being there, listening to them, giving a million hugs and kisses, doing and getting things to help whoever it might be.

I have taken to calling the friends and family and caregivers that go along with us on our journey "Watchers." Why watchers?  Because that's about all we can do from that side of the diagnosis. Watch...

When a cancer diagnosis happens to a loved one or a friend, all you can do is be there for that person and help them in any way you can. All you can do is give of yourself and your time. Most of the rest of it is and doing what I have started calling the four W’s... Watching, waiting, worrying and wondering.

When you see and talk to others who might not be there as often as you are, what is the first thing you hear?

“How is so-and-so doing?”

They are concerned about the patient which is totally normal. One of the questions I have is, how often do the watchers get asked, “How are YOU doing?”

Don’t get me wrong, I know it happens, but not nearly often enough in my opinion. Yes, you almost always hear, “If you need anything, just let us know,” but rarely are the watchers asked how they truly are and what they might need. Those who watch are cancer warriors too, just in a slightly different division. They give of themselves in SO many ways; they take time off work and out of their lives, they use their own money and resources to get things the patient may want or need, they sometimes ignore their own medical issues or skip taking their medications or going for medical exams or treatments… They do about anything they can just to try to make sure they are there and available in case the cancer patient needs anything.

The patients themselves are busy being… well… the patient.  Doing their best fighting the hardest fight of their life, trying to get better. The medical staff gets to do things that can actually be seen. They are coming up with ideas and doing things for the patient. I know that may seem small to some but think about it from the perspective of a watcher. As watchers we have to hope what we’re doing is enough. Much of what we do doesn’t always have an immediate outcome that we can see or feel or realize. Yes, a “thank you” or a kiss and hug for something done is a response we can be seen and felt, and those are some of the best feelings you can have, but then it’s right back into the fight with the cancer beast and it seems quickly forgotten a lot of the time. Seems being the operative word.

As a person who has watched a lot, I have asked this question of myself so many times, “Is what I am doing even making a difference?”  Speaking from the position of a person with cancer, I can tell you that you are absolutely INDISPENSIBLE. What watchers do and what they bring to the situation are absolutely imperative. There is no way I can make a big enough deal out of this. The patient will cling to you and your love and your strength. With cancer, you can imagine yourself as being lost in a raging ocean. You’re trying to live and survive in the ocean by swimming or treading water or whatever else you can do to keep from going under. You are looking for absolutely anything to help keep yourself “afloat.” I can guarantee you the support and love and caring of a watcher, even your just physically being there, is like throwing them a life vest. When we feel like we can’t go on or might be giving in to depression or other deep, dark emotions, we will use YOUR power and strength and love to help keep our head above water. This is a 100% true fact. I’ve lived it.

Sometimes (in my case, most times) these strong and loving people don’t get told what they were doing and what they were sacrificing makes a difference. At least not up front… while it’s happening. A lot of the time the watchers will catch the brunt of the emotions and fear from the patient and it comes out in the form of being snapped at or yelled at or accused of things. The patient can seem mean or hurtful or even hateful. That’s not fair to the watchers, but it happens often. A watcher needs a very thick skin, a harder head than the patient, and they have to be partially deaf... You have to be willing to take all that lashing out and emotion and just let it all go in one ear and out the other. You’re the lightning rod sending the bolts harmlessly to the ground when they strike. Sometimes it is hard… beyond hard. It can end up hurting so much that at some point you have to take a step back and regroup. It takes a lot of work and energy to watch. It’s tiring on so many levels. It is mentally and emotionally draining to the point of sometimes seeing the watcher go home and break down. Personally, I HAD to have those breakdowns at home… away from the patient. Breaking down in front of them was completely taboo for me. I felt it gave the wrong impression. I want to put up a strong, positive front. Something the patient can cling to, so breaking down in front of them was not something I would ever consider doing. Again, this is just how I handled it. Your thinking may be totally different. There is no set of rules and regulations on this. It is all learn as you go. On the other hand, if there was good news, breaking down in front of the patient was more than allowed. You’re showing the relief of the good news and sharing the moment with them.

One thing I have discovered over the years is watchers are VERY strong.  A lot stronger than they might give themselves credit for.  99% of you keep coming keep coming back day after day, with the only saving thought being the hope you might be helping in some small way. Believe me when I say you are helping… More than that... You’re a necessity. It may not might feel like it at the time, but you are most definitely wanted and needed. More than you will ever know. Always. I’m sure somewhere down the line you will likely be told as much, but it never hurts to hear it from other sources too. It gooses you a little and gives you a bit more energy to go back for the next round.

Every person handles things in their own way, and those ways are custom-made for each person so it is most comfortable for them. That’s part of being human. The problem is cancer is not comfortable. Mentally, emotionally or physically. When you watch and support the patient in any way you can is when the four W’s I talked about earlier show up… Watching, waiting, wondering and worrying.  Most of the W’s are mental and emotional stress and can drain a person of energy very quickly.  Those kinds of stress can tire you out just as much, if not more than, physical stress. Many times, it takes longer to get mental and emotional strength back than it does to get physical strength and vitality back. Plus, if you let mental and emotional stress get too intense or last for too long, it can and will affect you physically. I have tried to come up with a comparison or an analogy for what it feels like from the mental and emotional standpoint. I can’t find one. I don’t think there is one. Everything I come up with doesn’t sound right or ends up being physical. I was going to liken it to sitting on a cactus… naked. Talk about some major pain, and in some of our most tender spots… but how can you mentally or emotionally sit on a cactus? So, you see my dilemma. It causes a lot of uncomfortableness (is that even a word? If not, I’m still using it. Get used to it!). We all handle the uncomfortableness in different ways. Looking back now and seeing things with my added age and experience, and the knowledge gained from both of those, I think the way I handled it from the watcher side was maybe 50-50, good to bad. I can look back now and say that. I ran and hid and refused to look thinking if I don’t see it or hear it, then it’s not real.  In some cases, things went incredibly south. I can feel bad about it all I want, but I can’t go back and change those things now. Hindsight is 20/20. There are no mulligans. That is who I was and how I handled it at the time, plus I have tried to correct the situations as best I could after the fact.

The bottom line is this... Those of us that watch are Cancer Warriors too. Always. We become Watcher Warriors. We are an integral part of the recovery process and we are absolutely needed. We might not know or see what we are doing is helpful at the time, but I guarantee you it is... and always will be. I stand and applaud anyone who takes the journey with those of us with cancer. I can never say enough about you and what you do.

To those that went through my journeys with me...  I will NEVER be able to truly repay you or make you understand what you meant to me then, and what you continue to mean to me today.  I love you all...  Starting with my wife Lea Ann, my family (including my friends) and everyone else who helped me. I will never ever forget... I hope that my fellow cancer patients will have the same feelings. Honestly, I am sure you all do... and I hope that the watcher warriors know it now too.

Thanks for reading along, my friends!