'Rollercoaster' full of resources, asserts blogger

Zealous writer: 'Rollercoaster' can make cancer diagnosis 'a little bit easier on us all' 

M.J. Joachim

M.J. Joachim is a "very passionate" author and writer from Mesa, Arizona.

A fellow blogger, Philip Verhese Ariel, explains that her passion, in part, has been aimed at "making the world a better place…by raising awareness."

One small step toward that goal, I'm absolutely thrilled to report, occurred when she gave my new VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer," a glowing review.

Below, starting with the next paragraph, are excerpts from M.J.'s piece, which was published on Feb. 3, 2015. The full review, of course, is available on her website.

Breast cancer is one of those scary, taboo subjects nobody wants to talk about, despite the fact that millions of people are and have been affected by it. 

It’s personal. Cancer always seems to be so darned personal. 

For decades we’ve danced around the big C word. 

Until now! 

How I wish this book had been around when my father and uncles died of cancer so many years ago! How I wish this book had been around over the years when I had two benign breast biopsies - one at 28, another in my mid 30’s.

Weingarten is the caregiver of his wife Nancy and her breast cancer; years later, he is also the patient with cancer. 

Seems many of us get to deal with the big C more than once in our lives, and in various ways too. 

For all the research, money raised, government programs, medicines and treatments tried, things which Weingarten fully addresses in this book, we still don’t seem to find the answers we need. 

This book doesn’t offer any false hope. Weingarten describes in scrupulous detail the evolution of cancer meds and treatments since the 70’s. It’s an important section in the book, and if I ever do get cancer, you can bet I’ll never opt to take tamoxifen, partly because of what I learned in this book.

All the big C talk aside, Rollercoaster is a love story about a man and a woman dealing with her diagnosis, treatment and side effects (those little things no one really wants to talk about like loss of sex drive, anger and anxiety, relationship challenges, an entire myriad of fears ranging from how to deal with hair loss to night sweats and coping with nightmares, even eating to deal with stress). 

Twenty years later Woody & Nancy are still happily married survivors of the big C that changed and redefined their lives forever. 

“Marin-Man-to-Man is a drop-in, dues-free support group open to any male whose partner has or has had, breast cancer (or another life-threatening disease).” Much of this book makes reference to this excellent resource and support group for male caregivers living in the San Francisco Bay Area, a group Woody himself attends. 

Closing chapters are full of valuable resources and books for both caregivers and cancer sufferers alike. 

If you haven’t personally been touched by cancer yet, you’re lucky. I strongly recommend this book to everyone, because this book has the ability to make the dreaded big C diagnosis a little bit easier on us all.

Thanks so much for taking time to share your story, Woody. I trust and hope many people will be extremely fortunate to read Rollercoaster and benefit from you and your wife’s experience with breast cancer.

Writer of 'Booby Blog' lauds 'Rollercoaster'

Santa Fe author who traced own cancer says 'Rollercoaster' can help both men and women

Hollis Walker

Hollis Walker has given my new VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer," her stamp of approval.

To me, that's no little deal. 

Why?

Because the Santa Fe author-blogger-minister has first-hand knowledge of the disease.

And she's the author of a book called "The Booby Blog: A Cancer Chronicle," which tracked her life as a breast cancer patient. My personal feeling is that if you want to look at breast cancer — or any life-threatening illness — up close from both sides of the bed, you should check out both books.  

I certainly appreciate Hollis' review, and particularly liked her quoted my favorite author — me:

"Rollercoaster" is, in author Woody Weingarten’s words, “a partial memoir-chronicle, partial love story and cumulative guide to hope” written about his journey with his wife through her struggle with breast cancer.

"Rollercoaster," she added on her blog today (Jan. 26, 2015), is "an honest and vulnerable narrative" that pulls no punches. 


She also labeled it "an engaging, fact-filled, intimate story that promises to be helpful to men who are accompanying a loved one through breast cancer or any life-threatening illness."

Furthermore, she said, it's "not a bad idea for the patient to read, either.

"Honestly, I was prepared to be pissed off at this book, afraid it would be a tale of one man’s woe at having to prepare his own dinners while his wife was hospitalized for a mastectomy, or perhaps more politically correct yet nevertheless self-pitying drivel.

I was happily surprised. Weingarten has written an honest and vulnerable narrative that focuses primarily on his own feelings and reactions to his wife’s illness but never loses sight of the fact that it is she who had cancer — until he gets cancer, too. Even so, he discusses his own cancer only briefly, keeping the emphasis on the story of her illness and their joint confrontation with the threat to her life.

"Writing 20 years after his wife’s diagnosis, Weingarten relies on his and his wife’s personal journals to detail the events and recall their shared but sometimes wildly different responses. Being caregiver for a wife with cancer made him 'a one-man pet-sitter, nurse, servant and counselor' overnight — all while he continued to work a full-time job. He admits to being 'fragile, persistently on the verge of tears' and says that often, 'instead of wanting to be a caregiver, I’ve wished to curl into a fetal ball and let out a bloodcurdling scream.'

"Weingarten doesn’t pull any punches about his anger with his wife’s demands at times. He unflinchingly discusses the impact of her illness on their sex life and the fact that they went to individual and couples’ counseling. Yet the two also suffered in concert. 'The illness is chewing up and spitting out our lives,' he journaled at one point, and even when things seem to be going well, 'an invisible force yanks us back into Cancerland.'

"In addition to their personal story, Weingarten offers a significant review of clinical advances in breast cancer since his wife’s illness and effects of cancer on caregivers. Throughout the book, he also discusses his participation and eventual leadership in Man-to-Man, a support group for spouses of women with breast cancer…The men provide serious emotional backup to one another, particularly when spouses die. He remains involved in the group even today, offering his experience, strength and hope to newcomers, men whose loved ones are newly diagnosed.

"The author, who is a writer and editor by profession, has written an engaging, fact-filled, intimate story that promises to be helpful to men who are accompanying a loved one through breast cancer or any life-threatening illness. (And not a bad idea for the patient to read, either.)

"And it’s [the] love story aspect of the book that lingers when the last page is turned.

Giving thanks on Turkey Day and every day

Breast cancer upshot — a grateful patient who survived, a grateful surviving caregiver

Thanksgiving is but a blink and a quarter away.

Which triggers thoughts about what I'm grateful for (parallel, I expect, to what most folks living in these United States experience).

This year, my wife's 20th free of breast cancer, I'm particularly thankful for her survival. And for my having survived.

And for every day we're alive.

Being a patient can be tough under the best of circumstances. Being a caregiver certainly isn't easy. Facing a life-threatening disease can make it all the more difficult.

I shudder even now when recalling what we've had to deal with — the malady, its treatments and aftermath, an unrelenting up and down journey that I've chronicled in my new VitalityPress book, "Rollercoaster: How a man can survive his partner's breast cancer."

Rainbows bounce off dining room table in
the home of Woody Weingarten and Nancy Fox.

But the image I try to retain in my mind is totally positive. It's of the circular glass-top table in our dining room, one whose artistic acrylic base acts as a prism that turns natural sunbeams into rainbows streaming throughout the room.

Fantabulous! Breathtaking! Not bad!

Twenty years ago we'd wanted to replace our unattractive rectangular wooden table that was surrounded by eight uncomfortable wooden chairs that could have passed for a torture rack.

So we looked, and we looked, and we looked.

Furniture store after discount store after department store.

Nada! Zilch! Diddly squat!

Then, after months of searching, we chanced across a wondrous table at an upscale showroom in Berkeley. We couldn't come close to affording it.

So we decided to track down the San Francisco-based Russian émigré artist who'd created it. And we did.

We asked him if he could build a less expensive version for us. He could.

But we still couldn't afford it.

So we let it go.

Until a couple of months later, when my wife, Nancy Fox, was diagnosed with breast cancer.

We both were terrified she might die — soon.

So we instantly decided to buy the table, figuring we needed to live "here and now" and enjoy whatever we could with whatever time she had left.

Two decades later we're still enjoying the furniture.

Every day.

Even when it's cloudy and there are no rainbows.

And we've mentally amortized its cost so, in our minds, we could afford it.