Yeah so, my husband has cancer. Stage 4 Glioblastoma. That’s brain cancer on the last stage. They say it’s incurable, and terminal.
He was diagnosed in September, 2021. Aged 45. Otherwise a healthy, strong man. This was after his second seizure, while at work. The first seizure he had was 4 days after he got vaccinated for Covid. The first dose.
All of it was a shock. A shock to me. And I feel I haven’t gotten over this shock till today.
Of course, our lives where turned upside down. Everything changed. The worry, the stress, the fear.
I’m writing today out of complete sadness. There is just so much I could write. From that very first seizure until today.
I couldn’t possibly write it all in one sitting, so I won’t. I’ve felt overwhelmed since the beginning. We have a child. So there’s been a lot to deal with every single day.
As a wife, as a mother, I’ve tried to cope to the best of my abilities. I’ve had days I never thought possible. But I powered through.
As a person, I’ve felt so much anxiety, I’ve been sleeping terribly, I’ve had gastrointestinal issues, I lost my appetite for a while, lost weight, felt desperate, felt the responsibility of caring for my family, the house chores, keeping up with school, trying to be 9n top of school schedules, events, affairs, birthday parties, keeping people informed of my husband’s condition, the medication, the appointments, the treatments, the fear and incertainty of it all.
I made a conscious decision of putting all of that first. I had to. We don’t have a support system, no family or friends to help in anyway. We did get financial help here and there. So I haven’t focused on myself. On my mental health. I have no leisure time or activities. This somehow has been bearable up until now.
My husband’s behavior has changed. I read that medication and the illness itself does this. He is more irritable, angry, mean. He always had a short temper, so it’s been difficult for me to understand if it is in fact from the disease or not. He’s been in constant treatment since the diagnosis, no remission yet. He was given 18 months to live and he’s just a couple of months over that.
I find myself researching more than ever, looking for support groups, blogs of caregivers with similar stories.
I know that therapy is an option. I’m a licenced clinical psychologist myself, so I feel that support groups and people going through the same thing would help me further lot.
It’s been really hard these days. Feels like nothing I do is right. Actually he’s been verbalising just that.
Our relationship was never perfect, but we always respected each other. And that’s a big line to cross.
I’m always straightforward with him. But I feel there is no point. I feel he is apathic towards me, and the conversations escalate really quickly.
I think that I was dealing with the situation kind of OK until this changed. Now I’m being accused, now I feel like I am the biggest let down of a person. I’m the cause of the headaches, not his temper. I’m the cause he doesn’t get a good night’s sleep because I snore a lot he tells me, not the fact that he wakes up more than once to go to the bathroom because of his medication or illness. I’m causing tension between our daughter and him because I micranage their interactions, not the fact that his memory has worsened and she gets annoyed by his repetitive questions.
I feel lost. And I feel that I am losing him. Actually, already lost him. He’s changed. I’m sure I’ve changed, but if we can’t be kind to each other, what’s the point?
I feel that I have to be able to please him and ease whatever is causing him to act this way, butt it gets though if you’re not being appreciated. I know that I have to take care of myself somehow, and not let this whirlwind take me completely out of my sanity. I know I have to not take it personal. I know I have to keep doing my part, to the best of my abilities.
I hope I have the strength, the love, the understanding I need to keep going.
I think this page can help me, if I can pour my feelings here. Vent. Maybe I’ll find myself, maybe I’ll understand myself better, maybe I can be the shoulder I need to cry on, and pick myself up.