Giving Up My Martyrdom

By Elaine Viets

It takes a special kind of courage for Elizabeth Edwards to tell her husband to continue his campaign for President. She has refused to let her incurable cancer stop John Edwards’ bid for the Oval Office.

She is an amazing woman, and I applaud her decision.

But it took a different kind of courage for her husband to accept her offer. Not as much courage, not by a long shot. But sometimes, such a tremendous gift can be hard to accept.

About two years ago, my husband Don and I faced the Edwards’ dilemma on a smaller scale. I had a book tour to launch a new series. Plane tickets were bought, events were planned, and everything was set to go.

Then Don was diagnosed with a nasty complication from an old cancer treatment: a radiation fistula. If you don’t know what that is, you’re lucky. It’s horribly painful and difficult to cure.

His doctor was afraid to operate. He tried to cure it by taking Don off food and water for three months to give his tortured gut a rest. Don took his nourishment through a feeding tube. Because of the danger of infection, he had to go to a nursing home – partly during my ten-day tour.

I knew my duty. "I’m cancelling my tour."

"No, you’re not," Don said.

"Of course I am," I said. "We’re in this for better or worse. In sickness and in health."

"I don’t want your sacrifice," Don said. "I want you to succeed. You need that tour."

He was right. I did. I knew it. He knew it. But I also knew only a heartless bitch would abandon her sick husband.

"Tour’s canceled," I said. "That’s that."

"The tour is NOT canceled," Don said. "We’ll be in touch by cell phone. You’re two hours away by plane."

A small selfish voice whispered, "Take it." But I nobly ignored it.

"The tour’s canceled," I repeated.

"I don’t want to be remembered as the guy who killed your career," Don said.

"The book could die anyway," I said.

"Yes, but if you go on tour and the book dies, it’s not my fault," Don said. "If you stay home and it tanks, I’ll blame myself. I have enough guilt already. I’ve taken too much of your life with this illness. I don’t want your career on my conscience."

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to escape the sights and smells of the nursing home, if only for ten days. I wanted a short vacation in the world of the well. But I couldn’t leave Don alone. Besides, what would people think?

Ah, that was the evil little secret under those noble layers of wifely martyrdom – how would it look? How would I explain my actions? Some people would never understand. My husband was so sick, friends actually asked if I planned to remarry. Now I was running off on a book tour.

I would have accepted my martyrdom, and maybe ruined my marriage, if it wasn’t for a friend who’d recovered from cancer.

"You don’t get it, do you?" my friend said. "You’ve never had cancer. You don’t know how helpless you feel. One day you’re in control of your life, and the next you’re at the mercy of doctors, hospitals and treatments that make you puke up your insides. You can’t eat, you can’t sleep, and you can’t think of anything except you’re going to die. Worse, you’ve turned your family into nurses and servants. They have to drop everything for you."

"That’s how it should be," I said. "I love Don. I can’t abandon him."

"If you love him, you’ll go on tour," my friend said. "You won’t make him feel better if you stay at home. He’ll be sick with guilt for ruining your life."

"What if he dies while I’m on the road?"

"What if he dies while you’re at home? What if you’re hit by a truck driving to the nursing home? Don’t you want this tour?"

"I shouldn’t be doing what I want right now."

My friend looked at me. "You’re afraid what people will say, aren’t you?"

"I want to do the right thing," I said.

"Then do what Don wants. Let him be in control. He’s giving you a great gift. Have the guts to take it."

I went on tour. The book did well. Don found another doctor who performed the risky surgery, and he made an amazing recovery. He’s back at work. We’re living happily ever after.

Elizabeth Edwards was brave enough to give her husband that same choice. And John Edwards had the courage to take it.

I wish them the same happy ending.

Comments

[beachfla]

Elaine, thank you for sharing your story.
Mary Alice, we love you.

[Cheryl]

Thank you for sharing your experience. It is always good to hear about a happy ending.

There is a line from Shawshank Redemption that will always stay with me. Morgan Freeman's character says, "Get busy living or get busy dying". It is all the more relevant when you know that you are facing a finite number of days.

[Shannon]

Thanks, Elaine. He appears to be on the road to recovery and it's going to be a long one, but we'll get through it. Your post helped me remember what's important in all of this.

[terrilynn]

I'm currently undergoing treatment for cancer and this post really resonated with me. One of the most annoying things about this disease is its merciless stripping away of any semblance of control I ever thought I had. You gave your husband a great gift by honoring his wishes.