[sgentle]

At some point, every man comes face to face with the lie of his potency. We're told our willingness to turn ourselves into ruthless avatars of purpose makes us powerful. Unstoppable. We can do anything if the call is great enough. Is it suspicious that the call takes the voice of more powerful men? Pay it no mind. The world is yours for the taking.

Then, one day, the tide comes in. You learn what old men know. What women know. What every victim of circumstance knows. Sometimes the world just happens to you.

[steve_adams_86]

We're the leaves floating down the river. Sometimes we float through the sunshine in gentle water. Inevitably we crash through the rapids and down the waterfall. You can fight it, but you won't win. Like many in the thread are saying, the author of the post should be grateful for the good fortune that his partner is still alive, right now, and they can still be together. Every moment spent raging against the rapids means lost moments with the love of his life that he could regret forever.

There's something to be said for fighting for the people you love. We all should. But the fight needs to make sense, and I'm not sure fighting cancer on short order is the right fight.

Regardless, this situation hurts my heart. I feel for him, and her. Nature is ruthless.

[satisfice]

Geez, you people. What would happen if you had encouraging and positive thoughts about a man who wants to do his best?

Would you burst into flames or something?

Since when did passivity become the new mental health?

[steve_adams_86]

It's passivity about things you can't control. I'm all for engaging with things within my control. I just spent the morning under my car replacing CV axles because I wanted it done faster, for less, on my own schedule. Why sit around waiting? I suppose what I'm advocating here isn't passivity at all, but engaging in loving his partner in ways that would matter to her while he still can. That can be a very active and engaged way of handling this.

After watching several family members die from cancer though, the notion of fighting that rather than being with my family as they pass sounds terrible. At some point you have to accept that death is on the way. Love people while they're here. Curing cancer is a generational goal accomplished by huge numbers of people, hopefully, not a single person in short order.

I have very positive thoughts about his love and concern, too. I just hope it's put to good use while it still can be.

Also, he reminds me of my dad who was similarly convinced if he cared for my mom just right she'd be okay. It has been almost 20 years and he still hates himself for it. There was no stopping it. There's no sense in having these expectations of yourself.