DH received his devastating news on Christmas Eve 2015 - stage IV, metastised, terminal and given 3 months - despite being assured that tests in November had shown nothing and a kidney stone was likely to have been responsible for his aches and pains. It was surmised that it must’ve broken down and been passed.
We had all the family here and couldn’t face keeping the news, so all were told and DH ‘announced’ it on his FB page before NYE.
In January ‘16, I took a call for him - despite the rules, the Consultant told me his diagnosis was wrong. He did have cancer, but a kind that could not only be treated, but also cured.
We launched into 5 years of treatment, 18 months of which he spent in remission. Unfortunately, after a relapse, every time we got near the date for a breakthrough treatment, he went down with sepsis, 3 times - touch and go, but he fought through it. In the end, palliative chemo took over until he could fight no longer.
No-one knows how, but we lived day to day. There were monthly appointments, a drug trial, weekly treatments, weeks as an in-patient at times, but he placed all his hopes in his Team - knowing they would look for any options he could take, with new treatments coming through. Gradually, he withdrew from his main hobby and embarked on his second choice, continuing looking forward and making plans.
Covid was awful, literally time he would never get back.
Eventually we did come to the end of the road. DH thanked his Team and told everyone he’d had a good life although devastated he wouldn’t see DD2’s baby born. He’d managed to retire at 55 and had 10 good years, before the illness, the 5 with it. To this day, I often look back and wonder how we dealt with it all - the DDs were devastated but helped, as did their DH’s and gradually, weeks turned into months and we just tried to live our lives to the best we could, without going too far or doing anything stupid. MacMillan were worse than useless, but Marie Curie and the District Nursing Team amazing. The GP got me carers towards the end, who were invaluable.
People look at me and think how well I coped and still do, but it’s often a front and I miss him more than I thought possible.
I do hope you can share your ‘journey’ here and as I did (along with many others) take comfort and help from wherever it’s offered.
My best wishes. X