So this blog is nothing more than a place for me to clear my thoughts. I've been taking care of my 24 year-old cancer patient husband for around 4 years now. I've had lots of help throughout the years and our families are very supportive...but after a while you can't help but just lose your fucking shit. And that's about where I'm at now.
If you're reading this..don't you dare judge how I referred to my husband. I love him more than life itself. Otherwise I wouldn't still be with him. Not many spouses can say they've wiped their husband's ass after a short, terrifying year of marriage. So fuck you and your judgements. Obviously I need this blog. I just fucked your thoughts and judgements..and you don't even exist. Wow.
So I've held this family together for 4 years, like I mentioned above. We got married very young in May of 2007 and he was diagnosed in December of 2007. So we got about 6 months of "bliss" before everything fell to shit. We've been told repeatedly that if any of the doctors we original went to had to have cancer, they'd choose his. Let me just take this opportunity to say FUCK THAT. He's been through at least 5 different kinds of chemotherapy, 2 different kinds of radiation, two stem cell transplants, at least 4 biopsies, 1 invasive surgery, 1 near death experience, and millions of "you poor thing," looks. Yeah, I bet you'd choose to deal with all of that. Take all of that and add in a spouse, full-time school for both of us, a part time job for the patient, a full time job for the spouse, and the closest family being 3 hours away and you have yourself a hell of a shit show.
He was originally treated in Missouri, because that's where we're from. Then the treatments moved to "the best Lymphoma hospital in the states," which is located in Nebraska. Finally, after three years..they gave us one of those "looks", said "sorry," and handed us a sheet of paper.
"Here's a list of states that offer this trial drug. This is probably your only other option. We have nothing else we can do for you."
That's damn near a death sentence right there. So we pick Colorado; Denver to be exact. The treatment was doing great..got him back up to full health. He had gone from a 150lb, bald, cancer patient to a healthy, full head of hair, sex demon. Awesome for both of us and our marriage, seeing as how we haven't had much of one. Then we're told he needs his second transplant. (The first was in Nebraska, by the way.) This one has way more risks, he's probably gonna die, blah blah blah, horror, scary music, death, boooooooo. This is how most of our experiences in hospitals go. But it seems as if everything goes according to plan!
Surely not. We don't have that kind of luck.
And boom. The fucking transplant didn't even work. He -still- has the fucking cancer. What the fuck?! Is this some kind of cruel fucking joke?! Nope. It's not. He's still sick. And since I'm writing this from a fucking hospital room, that may be proof that he's as sick as he's ever been.
Not only is all of this happening at home...my mind is starting to wander. This is where things get really difficult for me. The stress from all of this made me eat like crazy back in Missouri. I ballooned up to 210lbs at one point. This is on a 5'5" frame, so it wasn't the prettiest thing. I'm now down to 150lbs...also from the stress. I guess it has it's finer points. I'll take a smaller waist over a twinkie. Well...no....that's a lie. But somehow it's worked out for me. Anyway, I was never really one to get male attention before. Not only because of how I looked but also because I'm incredibly awkward and naive to the fact that anyone could ever be attracted to me.
Colorado has changed that. I get quite a bit of male attention now and I love it. Honestly, I feel like I need it. Due to everything we've been through..Mikel has no sex drive. And usually he's too sick to be able to pay any attention to me. I honestly feel neglected most of the time. I know it's not his fault, but I'm too young to be so miserable. He is, too though. See? The last two sentences can show you how fucked my head is. I want to be able to do things for me and not feel guilty..but I can't. I can't even go out for a drink with my friends (to which Mikel is -always- invited) without feeling like the world's worst spouse. This isn't fucking fair. None of it. And I'm nearing the end of my rope. I don't want to leave my husband. I love him more than anything.
But I don't know how much more of this I can take.
No comments:
Post a Comment