Tag: there is life after breast cancer

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Breast Cancer Stories: A Husband’s Perspective

The other day Ginny asked me to write about what it’s like to be married to a breast cancer survivor. It’s strange, but I never really thought about it like that. I mean…I’m married to Ginny, and she is a breast cancer survivor, so, yeah…I guess I’m married to a breast cancer survivor.

But really, I’m married to Ginny. I don’t think our relationship is any different because she’s a breast cancer survivor. Sure, she worries about her cancer returning, but, then again, she would worry about getting breast cancer anyway. That’s just Ginny. And sure, she worries about our daughters one day having breast cancer. But, again, I’m not sure that she worries about our daughters because she herself is a breast cancer survivor. She would worry about that anyway. That’s just Ginny.

I seldom think about my wife’s history with cancer. Maybe it’s because I’m wearing blinders, or maybe it’s because there’s really nothing different about her that’s due to her cancer. Although it’s a part of who she is, I tend to focus on other things a whole lot more.

(Do you think Ed is trying to say that I worry too much?? ~ Ginny Marie)

You may also be interested in these two posts about how Ed and I got together:

Meeting My Husband
The Blue Lagoon It Was Not

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The Blue Lagoon It Was Not

Yesterday I posted Meeting My Husband, not realizing that I had left my readers wanting more! Here is MORE….

“I know,” he said. “I remember praying for you in church.”

It was dark; Ed and I were on a camping trip at the beginning of our relationship. We were having a heart to heart talk…and my heart was pounding. Four years ago, I had been diagnosed with breast cancer; I had been afraid that no man would want me after that devastating disease struck. Then Ed came along, and I was almost afraid he was too good to be true.

We talked long into the night about my breast cancer diagnosis and treatment and about our relationship. Ed told me a few weeks later that our camping trip was when he knew he loved me.

Fast forward two years.

Ed and I lived 64 miles apart. We only saw each other on the weekends. He would come to my neck of the woods on Friday, and then we would drive to his suburban place on Saturday. I’d drive back to my apartment Sunday night, exhausted and lonely.

At the beginning of April, Ed made reservations at our favorite restaurant on a Friday night. We decided to dress up a little, and have a night out on the town. I even wore heels, which was rare for this second grade teacher.

After dinner, Ed wanted to take a romantic walk around the lagoon by the university. It was a little nippy, but I was up for a walk.

We drove to the lagoon, only to find that a sky-high chain-link fence surrounded it. We got out of the car, and stared at the mud. The lagoon was being dredged, and a fishy smell filled the air.

Ed urged me to walk around the lagoon anyway.

We walked slowly, holding hands. My feet started to hurt, and I began to shiver. As we completed the walk around the lagoon and approached the parking lot, I headed for the car. “Let’s walk around again,” Ed said.

“Are you kidding?” It was the beginning of April, I was freezing, and those high heels seriously needed to come off.

“Come on!” Ed dragged me back to the path, and we found a bench to sit on. I don’t remember the exact words he said, but he did tell me this: he couldn’t imagine life without me. He pulled out a little, black box. He got down on one knee, opened the little box, and asked me to be his wife.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I cried, and I flung my arms around his neck, almost knocking him and that little black box right to the ground.