It’s now over 2 1/2 years since I was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer. I’ve tried to witness this unexpectedly dire development as a sexologist as well as a patient and to bring that awareness into my work, when appropriate. But I’m not sure I’ve done either successfully. I feel like there’s so much I needed to learn as a crash course about how to “do” cancer in that first year, but the difference between that first phase of chemo rounds and surgeries in 2024 and my current maintenance phase is so differently paced, that I’ve lost, perhaps, the kind of fierce survival focus I brought to that first year. And I’ve also lost the ability to focus, intellectually, and organize cancer wellness strategies for myself and possibly for others (probably due to brain fog).
These days having cancer feels like an incredibly expensive chronic condition, especially as I’m still getting immunotherapy every three weeks, and a CT scan every three months, as well as labs and visits and whatnot. I have stretches of time when I feel pretty good (though tired) but I can’t ever forget that those pesky little cancer cells have not abandoned me. There’s a kind of “how much do I invest in my near future if I don’t even know if I have one” feeling that moves as an undercurrent through most of my waking hours, and this affects most decisions I make, large or small. I look into the eyes of my beloved and wonder, constantly, how much time we will have together? I wonder why he sometimes seems content to fritter away our time, when I feel so desperate to make every moment count? (However I actually think frittering is a healthy, normalizing response.) I wonder if I’ll outlive my cats, or if they’ll outlive me? I wonder why my adult children have been completely absent since my diagnosis and will they regret that once I’m no longer around? All of this certainly sounds dreary, doesn’t it, and yet I find ways to enjoy my days, my work, my relationships, and my creative pursuits.
However, the title of this blog promises “sex,” and so I guess I’d better get to it! And maybe I should explain that by sex I also mean “Pleasure” (in caps, on purpose). So here’s what I’ve got to say: have as much physical intimacy and as many orgasms as possible, from now on, no matter how sick or sad you are. Allow your body to feel why being in a body can be so great. Grab for joy, let it wash through and over you, be sybaritic, relish what you can. Even if you’re bald and feel unattractive (I’ve been there) or in pain, or nauseous, or fatigued (been there too!), make time for yourself and let your partner(s) know–if you have one or more–that you are putting pleasure and intimacy at the center or your life, for however long you have left. If you don’t have a partner, be there for yourself.
Live for pleasure, and therefore die with far less regret.
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