Ah the first full day of my honeymoon in France. Sitting on the patio of a resort in Evian overlooking Lac Leman (known to most of us as part of Lake Geneva), we sipped our café and munched croissants. After a late breakfast we were headed back to Geneva to meet the rest of the group for our hiking expedition in the Alps. Alors! The hotel valet reported that our rental car had a dead battery. My first instinct was to freak out. If we didn’t get back to Geneva to meet the group, we would never catch up. The trip would be ruined…This daymare continued until I heard a horn. Eric was driving up with a big smile on his face. Unknown to the valet, the clutch had to be engaged for the engine to start. Problem, or rather, perceived problem, solved. We eased onto the lakeside road and it dawned on me how quickly life can go from great to lousy to great again. Today it took less than ten minutes! As always, my brain made an analogy to cancer. My own journey from pre-cancer (great) to cancer (lousy) to post-cancer (great) took a lot longer than 10 minutes, but ultimately I am back to a fully-charged battery.

Our trip to France and Switzerand is a combination belated honeymoon and celebration of nine years of survivorship. In the airport, ready to leave Florida, I admitted that I was ready for some “time off” from work and cancer. At the gate we bumped into old friends. We reminisced. The topic turned to the invariable “how did you and Eric meet?” question. Eric usually jokes that we literally crossed paths in the Swiss Alps while on separate hikes while I boast that we are one of those JDate success stories. For those of you unfamiliar with it, JDate is an internet dating site for Jewish people.

Aboard our transatlantic flight, Eric and I toasted our luck and health with the free champagne offered in our frequent flyer miles first class seats. We talked about our internet romance. I admitted that I selected his profile because he wanted an activity and adventure partner, not someone to romance or marry. Also, he was one of the few men who were willing to meet a single doctor with four children. I never mentioned my cancer in my profile. Who would want to date somebody who was a survivor when there are so many fish in the sea? Eric Googled me and he knew about my cancer all along. Another prospect whom I will refer to as Brian also asked me out. The day before that date Brian must have found out about my cancer and sent me a long email. He had registered with the site as a divorcee, but was really a widower. His young wife had died of breast and ovarian cancer. He thought I sounded wonderful, but could not date a cancer survivor. His email made me tearful – for both of us. Then, when I discovered that Eric was also a widower whose wife died of cancer, he went up many notches in my estimation.

Our chitchat turned to the upcoming launch of my website, designed as a not-or-profit cancer community. I wondered aloud if there should be a spot on our home page to introduce cancer patients or survivors to one another. We could call it “can-do-date corner”.

This comment sparked a more serious conversation. Are cancer patients interested in dating? Do they want to date other cancer patients? Survivors? Unaffected partners? Do they want to hide their diagnosis and reveal it later or do they want to “get it out of the way” early and move forward?

Eric felt most cancer patients probably don’t want to date during treatment. He reasoned that they might not feel up to it. Their body image may be distorted, either real or imagined. He believed that the fear of getting close to someone when their own survival is up in the air must be a huge issue. He did think that it is vital for cancer patients to meet other cancer patients or survivors who can understand their situation. Timing is the key to his theory.

I felt differently. I believe people are social creatures for the most part. They want to connect, even when ill. Our “can-do-date corner” could help to even up the playing field by making circumstances clear from the start. This would help reduce stress - and there is already enough stress in the dating scene for people without cancer, let alone survivors or those still in treatment.

We’re both on target. No two people are alike and no two cancer patients are alike either. Some will take to the idea of a cancer dating community and others will loathe it. People who might meet on our site would be bolstered by the knowledge that everyone there has a connection with cancer. Otherwise, they can go to another internet dating site.

How convenient. We are pulling into the rental car return. I’m crossing my fingers that this column gets to you on time. While you read it, Eric and I will be high in the Alps, happy our paths crossed….even if it did happen at sea level. And, knowing that in our lives we have probably hiked over our personal highest peak, the rest is, as we say, an easy downhill slope.