The battle we didn’t choose
When Angelo Merendino’s wife, Jennifer, was diagnosed with breast cancer, the couple decided to document her battle with the disease through photographs. This is his story of her heartbreaking journey . . .
‘THE first time I saw Jennifer I knew. I knew she was the one. I knew, just like my musician dad when he sang to his sisters in 1951 after meeting my mother for the first time: “I found her.”
A month later Jen got a job in Manhattan and left Cleveland. I would go to the city to see my brother, but really wanting to see Jen. At every visit my heart would scream at my brain “Tell her!!”, but I could not work up the courage to tell Jen that I could not live without her. My heart finally prevailed and, like a schoolboy, I told Jen: “I have a crush on you.” To the relief of my pounding heart, Jen’s beautiful eyes lit up and she said: “Me too!”
Six months later I packed up my belongings and flew to New York with an engagement ring burning a hole in my pocket. That night, at our favourite Italian restaurant, I got down on one knee and asked Jen to marry me. In 2007, we were married in Central Park, surrounded by our family and friends. Later that night, we danced our first dance as husband and wife, serenaded by my dad and his accordion: I’m in the Mood for Love.
Five months later Jen was diagnosed with breast cancer. I remember the exact moment . . . Jen’s voice and the numb feeling that enveloped me. That feeling has never left. I’ll also never forget how we looked into each other’s eyes and held each other’s hands. “We are together, we’ll be OK.”
Just after our first wedding anniversary Jen was declared cancer-free — but by April 2010 it was back.
With each challenge we grew closer. Words became less important. One night Jen had just been admitted to hospital; her pain was out of control. She grabbed my arm, her eyes watering: “You have to look in my eyes. That’s the only way I can handle this pain.”
We loved each other with
My photographs humanise the face of cancer on the face of my wife. They show the challenge, difficulty, fear, sadness and loneliness that we faced — that Jennifer faced — as she battled this disease. Most important of all, they show our love
every bit of our souls. Jen taught me to love, to listen, to give and to believe in others and myself. I’ve never been as happy as I was during this time.
Throughout our battle we were fortunate to have a strong support group, but we still struggled to get people to understand our day-to-day life and the difficulties we faced. Jen was in chronic pain from the side effects of her nearly four years of treatment. At 39, she began to use a walker and was exhausted from being constantly aware of every bump and bruise. Hospital stays of 10plus days were not uncommon. Frequent doctors’ visits led to battles with insurance companies. Fear, anxiety and worries were constant.
Sadly, most people do not want to hear these realities and at certain points we felt our support fading away. Other cancer survivors share this loss. People assume that treatment makes you better, that things become OK, that life goes back to “normal”.
But there is no normal in cancer-land. Cancer survivors have to define a new sense of normal, often daily. And how can others understand what we had to live with every day?
My photographs show this daily life. They humanise the face of cancer on the face of my wife. They show the challenge, difficulty, fear, sadness and loneliness that we faced — that Jennifer faced — as she battled this disease. Most important of all, they show our love. These photographs do not define us, but they are us.
Cancer is in the news daily and maybe, through these photographs, the next time a cancer patient is asked how he or she is doing, along with listening, the answer will be met with more knowledge, empathy, deeper understanding, sincere caring and heartfelt concern.
Jennifer always said: “Love every morsel of the people in your life.” — © Angelo Merendino
See this website for more information: mywifesfightwithbreastcancer.com