Thoughts from Between the Knees

While battling breast cancer, Diane Mapes hears the good, the bad, the you gotta be kidding me.

Thought I’d pass along the latest in her first-person series on living (and laughing) with cancer. Her nine tips on what to say to someone who has cancer is something a man can read but a only a woman can understand.

Earlier this week, Bella had an annual followup visit with one of her medical specialists. She ask me to go.

She didn’t have to ask twice to get me to agree because I knew the newest issue of Sports Illustrated would be in the waiting room. While I relish sneak-reading Cosmo each month in her office, she doesn’t have boy mags laying around if you don’t count Gardens & Guns. And that comes from home, so I have my own copy.

Now, that’s the way men talk when they don’t want to admit they are as scared when their belle walks out of the exam room as she was walking in. Remember the first grade when we used to just push you when we didn’t know what it took to hug you? Same thing. You get it.

It takes as much courage to have your scheduled mammogram or PAP or prostate exam, in my case, as it does to live with the results if they should be positive, in my opinion.

I’ve been following this first person story of a reporter who was diagnosed with breast cancer and chose a radical double mastectomy. Two weeks after her procedure, she went out on her first date.

If I wasn’t so madly in love with Bella, I find out what Starbucks she goes to and try to pick her up over a cup of morning brew. Nothing more attractive to a real man than a strong, courageous woman.

For all who care about you, most especially the ones unable to tell you just how much they do care, get your annual exams and go to your followup appointments. I understand first person just how uncomfortable some of it can be.

If for no one else, do it for the one who loves you the mostest – you.

As a means of introduction, I’m the Boyfriend. Many times I wonder how I should reference myself in connection to her – boyfriend, beau, boytoy, business partner, best friend. Reverse the gender references and she is all that to me – and more.

No matter, I always come regardless of what I’m called. Also, I put the toilet seat down, even in the middle of the night. And like every loveable old dog, I know when to get in bed with her and when to leave for my own.

Yes, we sleep in seperate beds more often than the same one, both under the same roof and just at the other end of the hall. Sometimes we trade and she goes to the other bed and I stay in her bed when she can’t wake me up enough for me to realize I’ve been thrown out. Some daybreaks I wake up early and, like every loveable old dog, sneak back into bed beside her as she dozes the last few minutes before the alarm goes off. For the record, she’s only thrown me out of the house once but she called me back – and I came. Another blog, another time for that relationship fable. Back to sleeping in two beds…

I once thought the quality of a relationship was in direct proportion to the total square inches of skin shared in a lifetime between two consenting adults. I’ve come to understand over time with Bella that the quality of a relationship can be measured by how much you care that your partner – husband or wife, boyfriend or girlfriend, beau and belle – gets a good night’s sleep.

I have something akin to Restless Leg Syndrome – at least that’s the best educated guess I’ve gotten out of a doctor so far. I’ve tried every drug. I actually almost flopped off the operating table during my colonoscopy while on Propofol – as in what they say led to Micheal Jackson’s Big Sleep. The arm and leg flopping with incessant scratching doesn’t keep me awake, but what I do sure makes sleeping hard for her. So I leave the bed when asked or shoved. Hey, I get it. Many nights when I feel the first twitch, I leave without being asked. And she gets it too, the reason I have to go and the reason I hate to leave.

I kinda’ like sneaking back into bed beside her. Or waking up with her trying to fit on a little twin bed with me. I think it lets each other know we care about where we sleep for a lifetime, not just a night.

If someone sleeping, or trying to sleep next to you keeps you awake, or if you (and you know who you are) are a Sleep Thief, talk about it with each other. Better yet, try the separate bed thing and then talk about it when you’ve both had a good night’s rest. You’d be surprised at the benefits that come from it.

How long has it been since you slipped back into bed at daylight with no reason to feel guilty about where you have been?

* Kris Kristofferson, “Nobody Wins“