Heroes may seek out adventure, other times they are thrust, kicking and screaming, into their adventure. The latter is the case with breast cancer. This is a disease that no one asks for and no one wants. Yet through the trials and ordeals of breast cancer treatment a woman may discover and lay claim to her heroic nature. But breast cancer affects not only the woman for her partner must accompany her on this journey. Through this shared struggle both can be transformed into heroes.

Awaiting the results of a biopsy is akin to listening to the news to determine whether the giant meteor moving toward Earth will actually collide with the planet and annihilate all life or at the last minute veer away. It's a climactic event over which one has no control.

Confronted with this uncertainty, we pulled closer together as a couple and there was a dramatic increase in our physical intimacy. We found ourselves holding hands when we took our morning walk and when we drove to Stephanie's appointments.

Faced with the prospect of having my love sundered from me, I could no longer presume she would always be there when I needed her; that being consumed with work or writing was acceptable because there would be plenty of opportunities later on for intimacy. Faced with Stephanie's mortality, I concluded that our marriage was truly the cornerstone of my life.

When Stephanie's breast cancer was diagnosed we also were given the opportunity to see the very best in humanity. At Stephanie's workplace and my workplace we were literally overwhelmed with kindness and compassion.

When something like this happens you live simultaneously in two worlds, two realities. You live in the world of work, friendships, meals, movies, and hiking/skiing/kayaking. Simultaneously there is another world, the cancer world, filled with surgeries and radiation, who knows what else, and the possibility that the whole house of cards of your life can come crashing down in a very slight wind.

How can I love someone so much and at the same time fantasize about other women? Is this because I'm just so afraid of the potential for loss, for a grief that would grind me down like a grist wheel until only the husk is left? Does it feel necessary to maintain a barrier of some kind, a form of insulation? Pretending that I am not growing older and more wrinkled, my hair doesn't continue to thin, my knee to ache, to have a harder time catching my breath?

I had learned that the real magic I had to offer Stephanie was my love and support, my willingness to listen and understand, most importantly, she did not have to go through breast cancer treatment alone. This was a battle we would face together.

Although Stephanie does not pray, nor does she pursue a formal meditation technique, she is very connected to the natural world: grounded within herself when she hikes among the old growth trees. There, anxiety induced by the cares of the world is shed and the physical trails she hikes become a directional metaphor for the life choices she faces. Should she hike north or south? Should she choose lumpectomy and radiation or mastectomy and chemotherapy? Within the shelter of the woods, Stephanie best knows who she is, and what choice she should make.

For every couple the moment of truth arrives when they must deal with the physical change imposed by the mastectomy and the affect this will have on their relationship. For the first time I had a chance to look behind the gauze and surgical pads to see in flesh and blood what had been done to my wife.

What good has come out of this? Stephanie and I have become closer, with more hand-holding loving; I know how much she means to me in my life; I understand so much more about suffering and feel greater compassion for those individuals and families that go through difficult times.

Stephanie did not want to talk with her girlfriends about breast cancer and her treatment regimen. She assigned her girlfriends the job of playing with her, getting her mind off the cancer. The job of listening, understanding, and providing emotional support fell to me. Sometimes this was not an easy job, particularly when my life partner shared thoughts and feelings that wrenched at my guts.

Entering this other world of breast cancer, knowing that this other world exists and that it can engulf you at any time, makes me wonder how I ever walked through my life oblivious to all of this. Now I worry that beyond the non-infiltrating breast cancer to the infiltrating breast cancer lies an even worse circle of hell we could enter into. The one where the news is continuously bad, where the person you love the most in the world, who you would do anything to protect, could end up there.

Stephanie has always had a tremendous capacity to appreciate and enjoy life. If anything, going through breast cancer only served to further refine that aptitude. Ultimately, the elixir Stephanie distilled from our adventure was this: pick out a little thing that makes each day special; live each day as an adventure.

I learned a number of things from our adventure:

- I've learned that even though Stephanie cannot depend on me to build and repair things I can be counted upon to support her when she faces hard times: I'm a clutch player.

- I've learned that my power tools are love, support, and understanding

- I've learned that while I cannot protect my loved ones from bad things happening to them, I can help to shoulder their burden
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- Using the life-threatening illness of my wife as my yardstick to measure tragedy, I've learned that most problems are not really that big a deal

- I'm learning to accept whatever comes my way down the river of life (this is ongoing)

- I've learned that there are many wonderful, caring people out there who will respond with tremendous support when you're in need: My faith in humanity has been restored

- I've learned to sew joy out of rough cloth

- Emulating Stephanie and how she faced the challenges of breast cancer treatment, I'm learning to live my own life more courageously

- I've learned that I cannot take Stephanie or anyone else I care about for granted; that I cannot squander the opportunity to experience deeper levels of commitment and intimacy with the people I love

- I've learned that I could not have chosen more wisely when I married Stephanie: She is the absolute center of my universe

- As a man I've learned that Stephanie is beautiful and attractive, without breasts. Our love is built upon a more solid foundation than physical appearance.


To become a reliable source of support I also had to celebrate Stephanie's heroism without feeling diminished by her strength and determination. Her successes were my successes: treatment for breast cancer was not a competition, there was plenty of room for both of us to demonstrate our heroism. Stephanie needed me to maintain her warrior demeanor, which sheltered her from her terrible ordeal.