Let’s just vacation…the cancer away

By Allan DelValle

Man, if only that was a thing. Got cancer? Take a vacation and it will all be gone when you’re back. My wife, Jen, was diagnosed with breast cancer a year ago, when our son Connor was just one year old.  Since Jen’s diagnosis we’ve been through surgeries, chemo, and countless doctor’s appointments.  To say that we needed a vacation is an understatement.

This summer was finally our chance to escape it all and well, we tried. We traveled for nearly 6 weeks this summer as our post-covid, post-cancer rebirth began in Myrtle Beach (SC) and ended in Old Orchard Beach (ME) with some other wonderful destinations between. We were balanced; with some quality time for my wife, Jen, and me, with the help of our parents watching our son, Connor, mixed with some family travel to places like Wyoming, Montana, and Maine. We dabbled with safe, close encounters with buffalo in Wyoming and went crab fishing on the beaches of Maine. We were so busy, there really wasn’t much time to think about cancer.

The truth is, that didn’t work entirely to plan. We had wonderful times being present with friends and family but there was always a reminder, literally as I watched Jen throw back her daily batch of pills twice a day, and figuratively. She is still fighting. Every day, she wakes up to a 90s boy band reminding her that she isn’t done fighting yet; and then repeats the process at night. Personally, I would have leaned into some first generation Metallica but we all have our strategies for making the journey ours.

I’ve racked my brain about how I have been feeling the past few months. The answer is: conflicted. You see, before we started our vacationing, I was thrust back into work, then got a break, and am now firmly into a pre-covid style of work. It’s been an emotionally exhausting juggling match. Now, more than ever, I wish there were a way to split myself into clones to be able to accomplish everything I need and want to do. Isn’t that what Keaton did in his mid-90s film, Multiplicity? What a superpower! Although, if memory serves me correctly, the conclusion of his movie didn’t end favorably for him… The reality is that something has to give. I am working on that part to make it favorable and productive. The consequences of not doing that work could be harmful to my mindset as a caregiver/husband and a father. I did reach out to some counselors during the summer. While my experience wasn’t a huge turning point, I think I will look for another therapist to help me keep working on the mental and emotional side of things.

I will say, there has been an eerie sense of normal that has become this process. I had predicted it early on when I used to talk about unpacking things later, or when you hear “it’s a marathon, not a sprint”, but nothing really prepares you for the quiet that comes in this stage. You transition from weekly or daily appointments to “see you in 3 months”. Jen’s appointments now are for labs to make sure the suppression is working and to schedule the “cosmetic and elective” conclusive surgeries. With the amount of burnout and backlog at hospitals, you can imagine that there isn’t the same drive to schedule these. Basically, we went from actively fighting with urgency to actively fighting with some pause.

I think a significant contributor to my personal conflict is that we came back to reality – jobs, responsibility, obligations. As much as I would love to continue staying home with Jen and Connor or traveling together, it’s not a normal state of things. I’ve had to cut back on things that helped keep me engaged and balanced within my own routine and it’s hard to get back into the groove from day to day. I’m working hard to cut myself some slack. I am fitting in time with family and personal time wherever I can. Connor and Jen joined for a bike ride last week and that was a blast. We are hoping that is just another thing we can do to be active and together.

I am often saying to Jen – “give yourself a break” or “cut yourself some slack” because she can be frustrated with how things are going. I felt moved to write this as a way to do that for myself. Writing things down has become a productive outlet for me. Thanks for reading and being a part of my support group.

I'm Allan and my wife, Jen, was diagnosed with Stage 3c IDC in July of 2020. We are currently living in Manchester, New Hampshire, with our son, Connor, and enjoy hiking, biking, and all the outdoors has to offer.

Read Allan’s partner Jen’s blog here.