Living With Loneliness

The following Inspirational Story was taken from Silver Linings: The Other Side of Cancer, published by the Oncology Nursing Press, Inc.

"One is the loneliest number that you'll ever know. Two can be as bad as one. It's the loneliest number since the number one."

These are the opening lyrics of a song made popular by the pop group Three Dog Night in the early '70s. The great philosophers and poets of ancient Greece couldn't have said it any better. We all think we have experienced loneliness. The teenage girl is crying in her room after breaking up with her first love, the young boy is sitting in the back seat of a police cruiser after being caught speeding, and the divorced wife is looking at the empty kitchen table on her anniversary date. These are truly moments of despair, but no one knows loneliness like a person fighting cancer. The physical pain we may feel in our bodies is nothing compared to the pain we so often feel in our hearts and souls.

I remember, during my own treatment, going to the supermarket one day with my wife. I had been neutropenic (low white blood cell count) for several weeks and had been confined to my home. A trip to the grocery store was my big day out. I remember walking down the aisles of food, looking at the many different colors and shapes of containers. They all appeared different that day. I saw them in a new context. I remember watching the people. An old, retired couple shopped together - the aging husband pushing the cart, his gray-haired wife squinting to read her shopping list and double-checking her coupons. The young mother struggled, one child was fussing in her shopping cart and the other was sorting through the cereal aisle trying to find the best treasure. The college student cruised around with his cart full of beer, beans, and franks. The red-headed housewife carefully checked the vegetables while the blonde, stately madam inspected the bananas. Numerous human creatures went through the ritual of "gathering" while others practiced the ancient rite of "hunting." All were obtaining food for their families. I had been isolated so long that even a trip to the grocery store now opened new realizations.

At the end of the canned goods aisle, I encountered an old family friend. "I wonder how Fred and his wife are doing?" I thought, but by the time I worked my way to the end of the aisle, he was gone. Humans are such predictable creatures. Fred doesn't know how to handle my disease. I know he wanted to talk with me, but he didn't know what to say or do. So, he decided that the best way to handle this confrontation was to avoid me completely. Fred had never felt comfortable enough with my disease to come and visit me in the hospital, nor did he call me at home. And now, not on purpose, he physically deserted me. This happens every day, in every community, in every home where a person faces cancer. Dealing with situations like this is what Gilda's Club is all about - getting rid of loneliness, despair, and melancholy. Gilda's Club, a cancer support program created in memory of comedian Gilda Radner, is a place to go, a place to talk with other people with cancer, and a place to do things. It's a place where family members of patients with cancer can talk and interact with other families facing the same ordeals. Gilda's Club is a place to gain knowledge, a place to gain strength, and a place to cry. Gilda's Clubs are popping up across the United States. Please support them.

James W. Pleasant

Bone marrow transplant survivor