Hello,
I'm new to the forum.
After months of worsening symptoms, we've finally had the devastating news that my husband has advanced bowel cancer with liver, lung, lymph and peritoneal metastases. We've been told it's incurable and they won't operate, but that they may treat it with chemo. We are currently awaiting a colonoscopy to biopsy so they can see what cancer type it is. Symptoms are currently mainly digestive - gurgling/indigestion/abdominal pains, which can keep him awake at night, with a few lbs of weight loss.
Mentally, I'm coping - so far. Partly because it's been a long build-up with clues towards the severity (abnormal blood tests initially, then ultrasound showing liver mets, then finally the CT scan showing everything, partly because it feels like a surreal outer-body experience happening to someone else and partly because we've yet to have the prognosis (which we expect to be bad, but how bad?). I'm only 51 and never expected to become widowed so young, but I know compared to many others (whose stories I've already read), some are not so lucky to have the time we've had together. It's almost our 20 year wedding anniversary. We are parents to one young teenager.
My typical way of approaching anything is practical. For some reason, I can't stop thinking about the steps into our house. We live in a hillside and the only way to the house is down a number of steps and I'm worried that if breathing/mobility become affected, he'll be trapped. I don't know what to expect really, in terms of how quickly he will go downhill or what to do when he does. The thought of him being unable to get up the stairs to the car is such a worry - I'm hypermobile and would struggle with lifting.
If anyone has any thoughts, or words of wisdom about any of what I've said, I would be grateful for the support. So far, we've barely told anyone, so I feel quite alone.
Thank you.
Hello. I hesitated to reply as, sadly, my husband of 40 years died on the 17th June. Bowel cancer with lung, lymph and peritoneal mets, diagnosed in May ‘23.
So much of what you post struck a chord - especially about the steps. We too are rural (in Brittany), and there is a flight of 12 steps up to our door from the car. My husband had the same fear of being ‘trapped’ in the house and so going out became almost an obsession.
For the past few months, especially after they stopped chemo in December, I think we went somewhere virtually every single day, come rain or shine. It was his way of seizing and embracing what time he had left. I have to admit that, although I understood it in the abstract, sometimes it drove me mad!
As the months went by and he became weaker the steps became more and more daunting. However, with help and pauses, and at the very end a couple of strategically placed chairs. We were able to manage until just two days before he died.
I am only 5ft 1 (and 61 now), and even though he had lost tons of weight, I worried about being able to lift/support him.
I’ve just read this back and realise that I don’t actually have any advice to give, but I hope you feel less alone. Please message me if you would like to.
Sending you my very warmest wishes xx
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