Guest Blogger: His Cancer Caregiver Journey

Recently, I was contacted by a man who found my blog and wanted to share a story of survival from a caregiver’s point of view. He introduced himself as Cameron Von St. James, and said that “his wife was diagnosed with an extremely rare and deadly cancer called mesothelioma.  Normally when diagnosed with mesothelioma, a person has a life expectancy of about 3-12 months, but after intense treatment and recovery, she is still here seven years later.”

It’s an honor to pass along his story of hope and faith because it defines what we say in our wedding vows, “for better or for worse.” Thank you, Cameron!

Helping My Wife Through Cancer
By: Cameron Von St. James

I can clearly remember the date November 21, 2005. This was the day that my wife found out that she had malignant pleural mesothelioma, and the day that I began caring for a cancer patient, a job I definitely was not prepared for. My wife and I had celebrated the birth of our daughter Lily just three months prior, and we never imagined having to spend our first Christmas as a family fighting cancer.

Prior to leaving the hospital, I knew that being a caregiver for a cancer patient would be difficult. After the doctor told us about possible treatments that we could pursue, I waited for my wife to express interest in any of the options he had laid out for us. However, she was completely silent, and I realized that she was in shock. I knew she needed help, and I made the choice for us to go to Boston to see a mesothelioma specialist named Dr. David Sugarbaker.

Our lives were very chaotic over the next few months. Heather and I used to work before her diagnosis; however, once she was diagnosed, she could not work anymore, and I could only work part-time in order to care for her and Lily. I was overwhelmed with responsibilities and often thought I would lose Heather despite all our efforts to beat the cancer.  I couldn’t help but imagine scenarios where Heather passed away and I was left a poor, widowed single father raising a daughter who would never really know her mother. These fears and the pressures of caregiving often caused me to break down in tears.  I had moments of weakness, but I never let Heather see them.  I knew that she needed me to be strong, and that the last thing she needed was to see my fears.

Thanks to many family and friends, Heather and I were offered everything from kind words of encouragement to financial assistance to help us during this time, help that we desperately needed. If there were one thing that can make caring for a cancer patient easier, that one thing would be accepting help from others. I learned the hard way that there is no room for pride or stubbornness in a cancer fight.  Accepting even the smallest offer of help can be a weight off your shoulders, and will remind  you that you are not alone in the fight.

There are not many things that are as difficult as caring for a cancer patient. You will experience a range of emotions as you adhere to your job as a caregiver. However, this is not a job that you can quit because it is hard, and you cannot let your emotions overtake you. It is important to use every resource you have to help you to maintain your sanity, and most importantly – never give up hope, no matter what.

Heather won her mesothelioma battle after months of intense and grueling treatments that included surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. She is cancer free today, over seven years later. Furthermore, I decided to return to school and pursue a degree in Information Technology.

After all of the hardships we had to endure and the lessons I learned from them, I was prepared to go back to school and get my degree two years after Heather’s diagnosis. I am happy to say that I graduated with honors and was the student graduation speaker. During my graduation address, I informed my classmates to always have hope, and if they do, they can accomplish more than they have ever imagined.  Lily and her mother were there in the audience to cheer me on, and that was the greatest reward of all.