Heavy shit time guys.
My wife developed breast cancer and had a mastectomy in 2003. Went through the chemo and radiation, but it spread into her lower spine requiring a spondylectomy (removal of the third lumbar vertebra) in February 2004. She had a pulmonary embolism that almost killed her soon after the surgery, but recovered from that and began to make progress. Toward the end of an expected two-week hospitalization she developed staph infection in the wound site. Six weeks of antibiotics drips and the sent her home in an ambulance and then six more weeks of antibiotic drips at home, wearing a turtle shell type brace, with me to care for her. It had spread into the bones of her thighs also.
The neurosurgeon released her too soon for chemo and radiation after this was completed (in my opinion) and in July 2004 she was hospitalized for two weeks to determine the cause of unexplained severe pains (the oncologist and neurosurgeon were out of town, so emergency room admission).
Another twelve weeks or so of the antibiotic drips. She had some improvement but the cancer was active too. We discovered during this hospitalization that it had spread into the liver. Because of the staph infection the oncologist she had been seeing did nothing and offered nothing other than pain relief, and by December 2004 she couldn't walk without a walker and even with that it was very limited. At the time I thought she was near death.
We got an authorization from our insurance for her to go to M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, and were there for about a week just prior to Christmas. The oncologist recommended Xeloda, and orally administered chemo pill that doesn't compromise the immune system as traditional chemo treatments does. Within days of starting the drug her pain was much better, and during the next several months her tumors were greatly reduced in size. Within six weeks of starting the drug she was able to get around by herself and even drive to town occasionally. Our visit to Houston in September brought bad news... it was no longer working.
In October she began to have chronic pain in her upper back and we discovered that the cancer had deteriorated vertebra between her shoulder blades. She began a series of monthly infusions of Zometa
and that seemed to help with the pain. About the same time she began to have periods of mental confusion, paranoia, that indicated the possibility the cancer was in her brain. These periods were generally shortlived and not really frequent. In November things got so bad that I had to bring in a Hospice Care provider so I would have someone to call on for help.
From that point she went downhill, and suffered tremendously until her death on 30 May.
We had been through so much by that time that her death was welcomed, as it provided relief for her and me.
I don't want to come across as whining, but through this entire ordeal there was no one but me to provide care for her at home. Her only family consisted of two old aunts that couldn't do anything, and a bunch of cousins who could care less. My family is hundreds of miles away.
She often expressed her desire that I “find somebody” after it was over, and that she didn't expect or want me to be alone.
Bottom line, I took care of her and loved her as I would want to be treated.
Now I need to take care of myself. I haven't had any sex since January 2004. That's hard for me to comprehend; I used to pride myself on trick-****ing all night. Now I don't even know if it will work.
I'm thinking of trying to develop a ****-buddy type relationship. I'm not into one-night stands or going with whatever comes down the pike, but would prefer to develop a friendship with amenities, so to speak, to help myself back into the real world of the bedroom rodeo.
I don't feel uncomfortable trying to make a move now, but do you think others will understand or will they give me hell in a handbasket for screwing around before the ground settles on my widow?
Tell it as you see it, and thanks.
My wife developed breast cancer and had a mastectomy in 2003. Went through the chemo and radiation, but it spread into her lower spine requiring a spondylectomy (removal of the third lumbar vertebra) in February 2004. She had a pulmonary embolism that almost killed her soon after the surgery, but recovered from that and began to make progress. Toward the end of an expected two-week hospitalization she developed staph infection in the wound site. Six weeks of antibiotics drips and the sent her home in an ambulance and then six more weeks of antibiotic drips at home, wearing a turtle shell type brace, with me to care for her. It had spread into the bones of her thighs also.
The neurosurgeon released her too soon for chemo and radiation after this was completed (in my opinion) and in July 2004 she was hospitalized for two weeks to determine the cause of unexplained severe pains (the oncologist and neurosurgeon were out of town, so emergency room admission).
Another twelve weeks or so of the antibiotic drips. She had some improvement but the cancer was active too. We discovered during this hospitalization that it had spread into the liver. Because of the staph infection the oncologist she had been seeing did nothing and offered nothing other than pain relief, and by December 2004 she couldn't walk without a walker and even with that it was very limited. At the time I thought she was near death.
We got an authorization from our insurance for her to go to M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, and were there for about a week just prior to Christmas. The oncologist recommended Xeloda, and orally administered chemo pill that doesn't compromise the immune system as traditional chemo treatments does. Within days of starting the drug her pain was much better, and during the next several months her tumors were greatly reduced in size. Within six weeks of starting the drug she was able to get around by herself and even drive to town occasionally. Our visit to Houston in September brought bad news... it was no longer working.
In October she began to have chronic pain in her upper back and we discovered that the cancer had deteriorated vertebra between her shoulder blades. She began a series of monthly infusions of Zometa
and that seemed to help with the pain. About the same time she began to have periods of mental confusion, paranoia, that indicated the possibility the cancer was in her brain. These periods were generally shortlived and not really frequent. In November things got so bad that I had to bring in a Hospice Care provider so I would have someone to call on for help.
From that point she went downhill, and suffered tremendously until her death on 30 May.
We had been through so much by that time that her death was welcomed, as it provided relief for her and me.
I don't want to come across as whining, but through this entire ordeal there was no one but me to provide care for her at home. Her only family consisted of two old aunts that couldn't do anything, and a bunch of cousins who could care less. My family is hundreds of miles away.
She often expressed her desire that I “find somebody” after it was over, and that she didn't expect or want me to be alone.
Bottom line, I took care of her and loved her as I would want to be treated.
Now I need to take care of myself. I haven't had any sex since January 2004. That's hard for me to comprehend; I used to pride myself on trick-****ing all night. Now I don't even know if it will work.
I'm thinking of trying to develop a ****-buddy type relationship. I'm not into one-night stands or going with whatever comes down the pike, but would prefer to develop a friendship with amenities, so to speak, to help myself back into the real world of the bedroom rodeo.
I don't feel uncomfortable trying to make a move now, but do you think others will understand or will they give me hell in a handbasket for screwing around before the ground settles on my widow?
Tell it as you see it, and thanks.
