There appears to be a common thread among TV shows featuring characters with cancer: They don’t seem to want to tell people that they have cancer, at least not right away. That’s a completely understandable desire, to keep this life-altering news private, to avoid being on the receiving end of sympathetic looks and having people treat you differently.
But when you opt to keep your family out of the loop and you start acting all uncharacteristically seize-the-day-ish without explanation, it makes for some uncomfortable TV viewing.
As I watched the second episode of the new Laura Linney vehicle, The Big C, I kept thinking about Walter White from AMC’s Breaking Bad. He too was a mild mannered high school teacher, a quiet guy who’d been essentially steamrolled by life. He was married, had a teen-aged son and a baby on the way when a serious cancer diagnosis upended his life and emboldened him to radically change his behavior, including commencing a career as a crystal meth manufacturer. Meanwhile, his wife and son, neither of whom he’d told about the cancer (he waited several weeks before sharing the news) were left wondering why Walt was acting so oddly.
While I don’t see Linney’s Cathy Jamison becoming a drug dealer any time soon, her son and estranged husband have, like Walter’s family, noticed that she’s not acting like the Cathy they’ve become accustomed to seeing, the one who picks the dirty laundry off the floor, closes all the cabinet doors they leave open, frets about stains on the sofa and thinks all things through in a responsible manner, never acting rashly. They don’t understand why she’s behaving like this completely different person, so they’re just left to guess.
Her husband Paul, whom Cathy impulsively kicked out of the house, thinks she’s having an affair because he heard the tail-end of an intimate-sounding telephone message left by Cathy’s dermatologist (the one whom Cathy asked to assess her body like she was a Miss Universe contestant). When Paul found Cathy sunbathing naked in the yard — something he can’t imagine his wife ever wanting to do — he assumed it had something to do with some kind of tryst she was planning.
Her son Adam, who doesn’t know why his father is living elsewhere, is left to surmise that his mom has lost her mind, especially when she, without explanation, canceled his six-week soccer camp trip which had been planned long ago. His act of teenage rebellion to her unilateral decision — trying to sneak off to camp by lying to his father that Cathy had changed her mind — was trumped by Cathy’s offbeat, cancer-fueled courage. As Cathy’s student Andrea drove Cathy’s SUV in pursuit of the bus carrying soccer camp attendees, Cathy pelted the vehicle with shots from the paintball gun she’d bought with the idea that she and Adam would have fun with it over the summer … not that she asked him.
Her refusal to clue her husband and son in on why she’s acting differently is starting to border on cruel. If Adam knew why she wanted him to skip soccer camp — because she thinks she’ll be dead in 18 months time — don’t you think that would change things? If Adam then insisted on going to camp, knowing his mom’s diagnosis, well, then he’d be a narcissistic jerk who has no soul. But since he’s in the dark, it seems almost mean for Cathy to cancel his camp trip knowing that he’ll get angry, grumble, yell, sulk and protest (in other words, act like a teenager), something he may later regret having done if his mother does indeed pass away in 18 months.
I don’t know if and/or when Cathy will tell Paul and Adam about the cancer. Maybe it’ll happen soon and this gripe that I have about Cathy’s silence — which very well may reflect how many people react to this horrible news — will become a non-issue. But until the husband and son are told, I’m going to continue to have a problem with this.
Paul and Adam may very well be immaturely wrapped up in themselves and their own desires and not even see or notice what Cathy has done for them over the years. They might’ve taken the martyr Cathy for granted, not afforded her room or time to follow her dreams, have her own fun. They’re no angels. But it seems selfish for Cathy to allow them to act in ways which, if she dies, they’ll regret.
You know, I don’t think she it IS cruel to be acting differently and not telling anyone. She’s not doing anything that is particularly bad, she’s just doing what she always wanted to do and saying what she wanted to say. To wit: if you’ve ever lived with someone who refuses to close cupboard doors, you know that it can be a relationship killer. It seethes and creates a rot inside you toward that person that is tantamount, over a period of time, to them having an affair. You feel so incredibly saddened that they cannot change simplest of things to ease your mind, that you imagine all of the other things, if they ever arose, that they would not bother to address.
She’s not allowing them to act in ways they’ll regret if she dies. She’s allowing them to be themselves. They’ve always been this way. To have your family change into different people because you are dying would also be painful to watch.
I didn’t like the Terms of Endearment bit she did when Adam was running up the stairs. Although I am guessing you would say that to your kids, in the hopes that they would remember you saying it, and that you really do forgive them for pretending to hate you, long after you’re gone.
I’m really enjoying the show. It makes it seem liberating to die. And she acts like I would, with the doctor, etc. How funny was it that her desire to “do it in the grass” was interpreted by Paul as her wanting him to do her in the ass? I laughed out loud at that. OF COURSE that’s what a man would hear. LOL
I think I’m with Meredith here. I don’t know that it’s cruel, but not telling her family is definitely annoying. Even on Breaking Bad, it didn’t last long and his family quickly learned of his cancer. I hope that the family will be clued in soon or my patience for the show may run out. I love the cast, but it was really getting on my nerves that she wouldn’t just tell her son and husband in this episode. But you do make a strong point, Mod.