How I See Myself — and What I Call Myself — as a Man With Breast Cancer

I’ve lived on both sides of the cancer fence: first as a caregiver, and now as a survivor.

It’s interesting to me that during the four years when I supported my first wife during her struggle with advanced ovarian cancer, I never thought of myself as the “caregiver” in our relationship. This wasn’t because I didn’t accurately fit that role, since I was at her side every day during that difficult time. But in order to endure the anguish and fear that went along with aiding her in her survival, I somehow found a way to even out the stress that became part of our day-to-day routine. And I managed to do that by seeing myself as part of the cancer experience, rather than as just an onlooker.

The stark reality of her terminal, stage 4 condition was pushed to the background of our survival strategy, and simply finding a little something good in each day was the centerpiece of our relationship with cancer and with each other. I saw myself as her friend and partner rather than as a caregiver who was keeping her alive by feeding her at home through a food tube. I began to realize that how we see our own role in a cancer partnership is as important as how we see the other person.

After she died, I had a new role in life, and a new title to carry — this time as a widower. I saw that term on a variety of legal papers that I needed to deal with and have to say, I never related well to it. It only served to remind me that I had lost something and someone who was very important to me.

Words are powerful. Early on in my performance career as a stage magician, I received an Emmy Award for a television show that I had produced.

I was tagged with that monikerfor the rest of my working days. While I found it useful in the promotions for my programs, it created expectations that were unhelpful in many ways. What seemed to some to be a badge of success, to me, became an overrated distraction. I knew that I was simply a modestly successful magicianlike so many others in my business.

Eighteen years after my wife’s death in 1997 at the age of 47, I was diagnosed with my own version of cancer. Male breast cancer is one of the rare diseases that plague unsuspecting guys. The tagline I inherited at that point became “survivor.” It’s an appropriate description, of course, but that title also carries a lot of vague, emotional nuances that can either be helpful or distracting. 

It wasn’t long into my survival that I inherited yet another term of endearment that helped me immensely in my relationship with male breast cancer. I became an advocate for the disease as I felt an obligation to share what I knew with the other men who would follow me in the long line of breast cancer survivors.

In my world of male breast cancer, I see men describing themselves and survivors, warriors, patients, conquerors, fighters, advocates, thrivers and more.

So what’s in a name? Probably more than we can imagine.

Personally, I have always thought of myself as an adventurer on my expedition through male breast cancer. Like it or not, it’s a significant part of my life experience and one that I’ve learned to accept as I navigate through it.

In these eight years of living with my breast cancer, I’ve discovered that my self-image can change, even from day to day. So, I make it my daily goal to acknowledge how I’m feeling. Today I may be a survivor. Tomorrow I’m an advocate. The only title I don’t permit is victim. I like to ask myself, “Who would you like to be today?”

And the truth is, the choice is always ours.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to subscribe to CURE®’s newsletters here.