Indeed. My husband has cancer, which is in both his liver AND his pancreas, and Heaven knows where else. It is inoperable, and since the survival rates for such cancers is so pathetic, it’s chemo and radiation and a whole lotta throwing up before he stops trying to fight it for my sake. And I know that’s why he IS going to fight.
To say that this is the worst day of our lives—thus far—would be the understatement of the decade. We lost a newborn daughter almost thirty years ago, and it was awful, but not as much so as this. All I can think of is how unfair it is that he won’t get to see our grandchildren grow up, that we’ll never go to Hawaii like we’ve planned for the past few years…..that we won’t have a 50th wedding anniversary. Maybe not even a 33rd, if these tumors are especially aggressive.
This is all wrong. I’m the one with the health problems. The diabetes, the asthma, the high blood pressure, the bipolar. I’M supposed to go first. I’ve always been ready to go first, even though I’m younger by almost eight years. Now I’m not only going to have to watch him leave, I won’t even be able to follow, because I could never put my kids through the loss of BOTH parents close together. Dammit!!!
I keep praying that this is only a nightmare……that I’ve slept too long and I’ll wake up to find him gently shaking me awake, with a cup of hot coffee in his hand and a cheery smile, and everything will be normal because the good Lord knows that I can’t cope with the enormity of such a game-changing life event.
Don’t worry—I’m not losing touch with reality; in fact, I wish I were, but I’ve never been more sane in my life. Bugshit with grief and revulsion, yes, but I am not in a psychiatric crisis now, although I think I will clue in my p-doc because I’m finding that a little Ativan goes a long way to keep the breakthrough panic away, and I want him to know that I’m taking it.
Well, THIS sucks. I don’t even know what else to say about it.
bpnurse 
There are a million platitudes that people quote in times like this. But those seem so impotent and superficial. All I can say is, I’m so sorry, Marla. I know that the relationship you and Bill have is very precious, very special. When I think what the two of you are facing, I feel overwhelmed. I can’t imagine how you feel. But please know that people care. They want to help. But you have to let us know when you need support and a gentle touch to your soul. Wishing you and Bill God’s blessings. xoxoxoxo,
Barbara
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Thank you so much for these precious words of comfort. They help more than you know. 🙂
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Oh, Marla, I was hoping and praying for a better report today. You are a strong woman and God will see you through the days, weeks and months ahead. As a nurse you will know what to expect and can be an encourager to hubby and the professionals attending to his care. I know you don’t even know what to do right now. Take it one step at a time and one day at a time. I do not know why God has chosen to take our sweethearts, but he must need them in heaven more and their work on earth is done. I had Ray for just over 44 years but since Ray was in such good health, I figured we would reach 50 years like 3 older siblings. In a matter a 14 months I lost a beloved sister, my last aunt, Ray and most recently my brother. Do I grieve, you bet. Hang on to your faith and your dear family and try not to think about all the woulda, coulda, shoulda issues. Many hugs to you. S
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Yes, echoing what Barbara said: When you just need to be heard, and not fixed, let us know. When you need to be encouraged, let us know. Without asking I am lifting you and your family up to the Lord, for comfort, for strength, for the doctors’ wisdom … as said many times, I love you Marla, this is a biggie but God is bigger.
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