It's 10:30 on Saturday morning, and I'm letting my husband, Wayne, sleep in late. A few weeks ago, we would have been up pretty early and maybe heading out to Disney World or to my daughter's color guard competition, but that's not how it is today. My husband is on week three of his second round of chemotherapy for stage 3 throat cancer, and he's having a hell of a time.
Just three weeks ago, he was feeling strong and healthy since mostly recovering from chemo round one combined with radiation, but now after just two treatments, he looks and feels miserable. It's been such a rapid down slide this time that I wonder if people can die from the cure before the disease! He went to his oncologist this past Thursday, and they didn't even do the real drugs because his side effects are hitting him so hard. On the one hand, it's nice that he'll get a break from the chemo induced intestinal distress this weekend, but it also means that treatment will be added on to the tail end, and I wonder what he'll be like in another 15 (now 16) weeks...
I'm not sure what made me start this today, but I'm feeling so angry and sad and lost when I want to be optimistic and strong, and I figured putting my thoughts down might help me cope with this new life that I didn't plan on or want. I don't anticipate what I share will appeal to the masses, but if someone else who's "the spouse" happens to stumble upon this and know they are not alone, well, that would be reason enough.
He's up now.
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