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This is not a book review. I wish it were. If it were a review, it would mean that I had already read the book, “Stand by Her,” by John Anderson, which just hit the shelves today. I’ll read it, although it’s likely much more important that men read it.  After all, nurturing, nursing, shoulders to cry on and such do not come as naturally to men. Go ahead. Disagree. Just remember that the operative word here is, “naturally.”  There is nothing to say you can’t learn. Sure, you can rise to the occasion; you can be up to the task, but let’s face it, for most men, these characteristics are no more innate than voluntarily dusting. (Dusting  is not to be confused with “boy dusting,” which is to take a deep breath and blow on the coffee table, or worse, God forbid, “vacuum” with a leaf blower.)

John W. Anderson, author, husband, son, brother, and friend to four women who suffered from breast cancer has penned a guide for men who live with – and love – women with breast cancer. Fellas, take note: he should be your hero. You need this, but beware – he has set a positively lovely, and downright romantic high standard for solidarity. John Anderson shaved his head when his wife lost her own hair from breast cancer treatments. Leveling the playing field is among the kindest, most thoughtful gifts one (anyone) can give to someone who is suffering from a disease that simultaneously destroys your body and your self-image. Vanity be damned! Insult to injury and all the rest.

In “Stand by Her” (AMACOM, $18.95 paperback), Anderson offers strategies and support on the countless medical and emotional minefields that men face as husbands, sons, brothers, fathers, nephews, cousins, colleagues, and friends of breast cancer patients.  You can hear what he has to say about the precarious path through this minefield on Thursday, Oct. 8 (today) on the Today Show.

I have been a caregiver and a care-receiver – although not, thankfully, related to breast cancer. There is no question that I am naturally far more comfortable in the caregiver role, which is not to  say that I more comfortable than my husband in the caregiver role. He is quite adept and thoughtful, throwing his own body at my needs, at times demonstrating his caregiving in a more pragmatic way than I might choose at that moment, when what I want most is to be relieved of guilt for my body’s failings compared to its aspirations. Still, pragmatism is good and necessary, and I suspect, a much more “natural” method for men to deal with such issues.

When John Anderson’s wife  was diagnosed with breast cancer, she said, “I am so sorry,” as if she could have prevented this curse. In these times we feel the burden we pass on to others, yet there have been times when my husband has needed me as well. Mostly, he has learned to receive with grace, although it is hard for one so giving as he is to accept gifts. Note the choice of language: gift. Let us not use the “help” word which would take most men to an entirely different and most uncomfortable place.

None of us who are blessed with loving spouses ever want them to learn anything the hard and painful way. Still, we should all embrace, learn, and accept both sides of this equation of life, love, health, hope and survival. We will be fortunate if we are able to give and receive. Here’s hoping you – and yours – do not need  John Anderson’s wonderful gift and guide.

1. Lee Leslie says:

   October 7, 2009 at 10:24 pm

   There’s something about a serious illness that forces us to confront time. Cruise control is turned off. Is it now to be dealt with or tomorrow? Is it about how this affects me or us or you? Is it about how we will survive this now or I will survive the unknown tomorrow? Am I the victim or you or us or should that ever be asked at all? None of us will know how they will react until it happens, and it will. We should prepare ourselves to be at our best when it does. This book will break your heart and it will heal and make you a better.

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2. Michael Garbutt says:

   October 8, 2009 at 9:50 am

   Terri,
   What a beautiful testimony to the real of meaning of Love. And that deep, shared bond between a couple which sees them through all the joys and sorrows of Life becomes even deeper when threatened by any crisis and is to me the greatest joy in living.
   Thanks for this. Your own sensitivity (as well as Lee’s) shines through every word.

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3. ariel harris says:

   October 8, 2009 at 3:56 pm

   i am clutching my tissue…we can only hope as we go through life’s crisis’s we live up to all that we can be in our ability to not only give loving nurturance but be ready to deal with demons and joys.courage comes in many stages. starting the conversation is the gift. thank you both for doing this.

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4. Melinda Ennis says:

   October 9, 2009 at 10:05 am

   Having been a long-standing witness to the give and reciept of care between the author (Terri) and her husband (who I won’t name because he does not suffer compliments easily) I can unequivocally nominate them as role models for how to cope and comfort when illness comes between loving partners. One trait that I especially admire is humor (when you think there is nothing else life can throw at you, laughter may indeed be the best medicine).
   As someone above said (not God, but Lee)—if we are very lucky, we will all ultimately be a caregiver or receiver of a spouse, partner or loved one. I can only hope that I can be as stoic and funny as Lee, as kind and generous as Terri and as loving as they both are.

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5. Martin O'Hara says:

   October 12, 2009 at 7:57 am

   Terri

   A wonderful piece. That brought a tear to my eye. I’ll look out for the book in the UK.

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