The Diagnosis

I am an inspirational writer. Cancer Tested Courage and Faith, with the heading “My husband Has Cancer,” reflects that passion as the content of this Website is rooted in personal experience. A Swiss mountaineer, Werner, chose to climb. Growing up in Switzerland, he climbed over 100 successful summits. One climb earned him the second successful ascent on a new route. Thirty years into our marriage, he didn’t choose this climb marked by esophageal cancer that ended life as we knew it. It would become his Mount Everest. I was his partner on this rope, facing a perilous climb, no summit in sight. What did cancer’s slippery rocks, overhangs, and vertical rock face hold in store for Werner? It filled my shoes with terror. I tried hiding a grip on courage and failed. But Werner saw me barely hanging on, positioned to pull both of us off his climb to survive cancer. He knew he faced cancer’s assaults to rain down on him like the loose boulders that sail down a mountain face. Yet like a true mountaineer, his moves were calm and secure when he faced me. He tied us together safely and placed the rope back into my hands. The determination written in his eyes and these four words, “You must be brave,” pierced my heart. How, where, and who would help me find bravery for this nightmare climb? I didn’t answer him, yes, of course I answered him, I don’t know if I said anything. I only know what was written in his words. Promise me you will be brave. I will suffer enough, but if I must watch you fall, my suffering will be undurable.

From the beginning of his climb for life, no panic, no angry response, only the calm focus I recognized appeared. He turned his face up, looking for the next hand and foothold. His immediate reaction to the diagnosis met and crushed self-pity. “Why me? Why did this happen to me?” No one answered. Who could? His doctor began to speak, but Werner seemed to talk to someone, not to us, “Wait, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just said that.” That moment defined the kind of battle he would wage against cancer, like a true mountaineer, always looking up, calm and focused, ready to make the next move.

You Must Be Brave

So what does this have to do with Cancer Tested Courage and Faith? Everything, because of the one request he made: watching my courage and coping tank. He said, “You must be brave,” and then walked away, leaving me frozen to the spot, wondering how I was going to be brave in the midst of this nightmare. After a struggle between God, who spoke, this is your Peter stepping out of the boat moment. Trust me to stand you on this storm’s water, and the mocking voice’s comment: ‘Why trust God? Look at what he allowed to happen to Werner.’ I chose to listen to God and committed to honoring Werner’s request. I waged my battle on the pages of my journals against an emotional cancer, and for the courage he requested of me to stay on the rope with him. Page after page filled with my conversations with My Dear Friend, My Sherpa, My God, who carried the burdens too heavy for me, and kept my hands secure on the rope for my husband’s climb to the summit cancer-free.

So, I share this story of a 33-year love affair culminating in a two-and-a-half year extraordinary test of our courage and faith and found it alive and thriving. The content of Cancer Tested Courage and Faith is also rooted in personal experience and documented in the journal of walking with, caring for, supporting, honoring his one request, and loving him through his two-and-a-half year extraordinary fight against the beast, esophageal cancer.

The Last Week

Our last week together in Room 107 was not a death vigil, but a celebration of Werner’s life and the love that surrounded him. We welcomed visitors, told stories, had a picnic, laughed, and sang. Werner even lifted his two oxygen masks and did a short yodel, a moment of joy amidst the struggle. His doctors, who arrived and crowded around the door, said we heard a party was going on in Room 107. There presence was a testament to the inspirational relationship between Werner and his medical team.

On that hot June morning, Werner began his last pitch on his two-and-a-half climb to survive cancer. I knew what was coming and needed courage to face it. Werner, always aware of my well-being, suggested I take a walk in the gardens outside, where I met the Blue Lady Sculpture. What I saw in her stance against something she faced renewed my commitment to honor Werner’s request.

Isaiah 40

Returning to Room 107, I sat by the window and had a conversation with God, asking for His grace and strength to face whatever came our way that day. I opened the little Bible that Werner kept on his bedside table and saw the words from Isaiah 40 staring back at me. These words, a testament to faith and trust, renewed my strength and commitment: “Those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength, they will mount up on wings like an eagle, run and not be weary.”

Just as I finished writing those words from Isaiah in my journal, Megan, the hospital’s young intern chaplain, who had established a rapport with Werner, arrived. Of course, we said, when she asked if she could pray with us. She first opened her Bible and began reading the exact text from Isaiah 40 that I stared at in my journal.

Courage & Faith

The fire of separation and sorrow is not a stage on which any of us wants to play. So joy in life is, so sorrow is too. Throughout Werner’s fight, he stood firm when cancer tested the soul of his courage and faith. During our stay in Room 107, I knew from the many words Werner spoke that week that he was ready.

One of the last phone calls he received came from a young woman who was one of the alpine racers he coached. So like Werner, he turned his attention to her with supportive words for her summer race training.

God’s promise was real to sustain Werner and me through better or worse, sickness and health, until death. But we have a choice to seek His mind, to look at Him and not at the disasters around us. We will learn more about Him as we let Him govern our attitudes towards sorrow and trials. With courage wrapped in love, I was ready to climb to the summit with Werner where Jesus waited to take him home.

Why This Story

Why should I care to tell this story? Because God cared to come down from his seat of glory to walk in our fires. I created this website to offer hope and encouragement to other women walking the cancer road with their husband. I wrote while in the battle with my husband. I could not change our circumstance or cure his cancer.

I created this website. My Sherpa was the feet on the ground walking with me on the frontline with my husband. He protected me from despair, guarding and guiding me through the most difficult years of my life. I created this website to share My Case For Palliative Care and the team that supported Werner medically, so Werner could fulfill his three stated goals. Joy and agony collided, but the gift of time, priceless. The reason for Cancer Tested Courage and Faith.

What can visitors on my site expect to see? They are not alone with their questions and challenges. They needed a place to talk about how cancer became the third person in their relationship and how it affected their marriage. Following is what visitors who found themselves in similar situations sought: help, hope, comfort, validation that their emotional struggles as caregivers were important to their well-being. In their own words, what visitors took away: help, hope, and encouragement for the challenges they faced.

What will cancer do to our marriage? How important is it to find common ground to work as a team? Who will help me find courage when mine runs out? Visitors will read My Case for Palliative Care, a priceless gift of time when terminal cancer was the reality and living the goal. A Post to Mayo Clinic. I, too, encourage you to seek a Palliative Care Team. The comprehensive treatments and methods focus on your challenges, needs, and quality of life to accomplish your goals.

Husbands or spouses journeying, caring, and supporting their spouse with cancer or life-threatening diseases would also find help to understand, and support for coping, as cancer and life-threatening diseases affect both patient and spouse. It is not a cure. For my late husband and me, Palliative Care gave us the gift of time, pain symptom management, and palliative chemotherapy to keep cancer at bay, and all the support to help him accomplish his spoken goals. Was it easy? Not always. Joy collided with agony, but our time together was priceless. I hope this is an encouragement to you and others facing difficult health issues.