Work can be balm during health crisis
By Pam Belluck and John Leland
The New York Times
Denver Post
Article Last Updated:03/25/2007 12:23:03 AM MDT
When John and Elizabeth Edwards learned Wednesday that Elizabeth Edwards' breast cancer had returned, the presidential campaign, which often seems removed from daily life, suddenly mirrored reality for thousands of American families facing a deadly illness. John Edwards' choice - whether to scale back a demanding career to be with his spouse - is one faced throughout the nation.
Some people choose the path taken by Sandra Day O'Connor, who in 2005 announced she was retiring from the Supreme Court after her husband developed Alzheimer's disease. Others, like former Chrysler boss Lee Iacocca, whose first wife died in 1984 from diabetes, maintain a rigorous career during their spouse's illness but then become activists in the search for a cure.
In a recent example, the new governor of Massachusetts, Deval Patrick, was nine weeks into his job when he announced March 10 that his wife, Diane, 55, was being treated for exhaustion and depression. He scaled back his schedule on evenings and weekends, but he told reporters: "You are going to see me consistently perform my duties. I have a job to do."
Many spouses decide to keep up their work life, for reasons that range from practical necessity to their psychological well-being or that of the ailing partner. Some, particularly women with children, do alter or curtail their careers, but many others say that focusing on work can be a relief, a ballast and a needed escape.
"It was very important to me that he carry on his work," said Dr. Joanne Gillis-Donovan of Philadelphia, recalling her reaction when she and her husband, Joseph Donovan, learned she had Stage 3 breast cancer, which doctors said gave her a 20 percent chance of survival. "I needed us to carry on as normally as possible."
Gillis-Donovan said it would have felt like defeat if he had spent more time at home: "It would mean I wasn't able to survive by myself, that I needed him to survive."
Twenty years later, with no recurrence of the cancer, she is following the news about John and Elizabeth Edwards.
"I can see that it's critical to her survival that he run," Gillis-Donovan said. "That will keep her alive."
For many women with breast cancer, the last thing they need is a husband hovering over them, said Dr. Marisa Weiss, a breast-cancer oncologist and president and founder of the nonprofit breastcancer.org.
"The modern-day woman does not want pity," she said. "They hate that. Most of the time the husbands don't cut back. The woman remains in control, she's in charge of the household, and if anyone tries to take that away, she would feel usurped, that he feels she's incapable, and this makes her feel less independent."
Many families' decision is an issue of practicality. They need the income. Most of all, they need the health insurance. Hugh Panero, chief executive of XM Satellite Radio in Washington, was preparing for his company's public debut in 2001 when he and his wife, Mary Beth Durkin, learned she had leukemia.
"I needed to commit myself to my wife's care and also to the birth of the company," Panero said. "The reality is you have a job, and you have to do your job. You have medical insurance, and you can't give that up."
"For both people the situation is fraught with anxiety and guilt," said Dr. Irene Goldenberg, a family psychologist and author of several textbooks on family therapy. "Guilt for the sick person might be, 'I kept you from the thing you would have been best at, because of my inadequacy.' ... And for the other person it might be, 'I wasn't there when the chips were down."'
Women are more likely than men to scale back careers for a sick spouse or parent, even when the loss of income is a hardship.
Andrea Jenkins, 31, an educator at Trinity Episcopal School in Austin, Texas, was in graduate school when her husband, Michael, 33, learned he had non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.
"People think it's going to impact Mike, and they don't think about the spouse as much," she said. "It actually impacted my job before it impacted his."
She gave up her job as a full-time teacher to work part time in an instructional support position. Her husband, the school's interim principal, gave up his bid to become principal when he realized he needed a stem-cell transplant.
"The hardest part is being 30 years old and having to talk to your husband about dying," Jenkins said, "and having it be a very real and possible scenario. I'm one of the biggest optimists, and I try to find the positives in everything."