In April of this year, my husband turned 60. He was still working a 40-hour/week job, and we were enjoying our life together. We did everything together. In May, he had an x-ray, that showed "nodules" on his lungs, so they ordered more tests. In June, he was diagnosed with Stage 4 Colo-rectal cancer, that had spread to his liver, lungs, bones, and brain. He had radiation on his brain, and chemo every two weeks for everything else. We had been told during the first visit to the oncologist that "this is not curable." On October 1st, he went to Hospice. On October 7th, I came home without him.
As hard as it was to watch my strong husband waste away to nothing, getting weaker every day, I am thankful that we had that period of time together. While he was at home, I was his only caregiver. Our children came to visit with their families, as did some of his siblings. But the day-to-day care was something I did alone. We spent long days on the patio, just talking about our childhoods, people we knew, etc. We poured out hearts out to each other too. I feel so lucky that I got the chance to tell him how important he was in my life, and how I'll carry his kind, giving heart with me forever.
People have said that they think I'm in shock, because I seem to be "handling things so well". But, my daughter said it best when she said that she believes that he and I got a chance to grieve together before he passed.
I do worry that one day I'm going to wake up and just crumble. And I don't think there's been a day since he passed that I haven't spent part of the day crying. Evenings are hard, and bedtime is harder. But I know he would want me to be strong.
I talked to one grief counselor, two different times. I don't think we were a good match, so I'm looking for another one. I've signed up for two groups, and hopefully I'll feel better about them than I did the counselor.
Anyway, that's my story. I know I left a lot out. I'm just glad I found this forum today. Thanks for reading this.
