Dec 20, 2009 - 3:13 pm
This is to all the male cancer survivors on this list. Have you even played the cancer card with your wife when she needed your help even when you were really feeling better?
Kevin is a little more than 10 weeks post treatment. He is finding more and more energy every week as he recovers. Energy especially for things he likes/wants to do.
We are moving tomorrow to a house we have been renovating throughout his treatment. On a good, pre-cancer day, moving would be overwhelming to him, but he was usually able to pitch in and pack a box without being asked to do it.
We have known for weeks when we would be moving, and we have had boxes in our apartment living room waiting to be packed for at least three weeks. He promised to do the kitchen while I was teaching weeks ago. Today I finished the kitchen myself. I think over the weeks he packed two kitchen boxes.
I became quite frustrated today when he sat for more than an hour playing on his computer sorting his itunes account while I packed and cleaned. Then he got mad when I asked him to help. Actually he stormed out and went to the store without even saying goodbye.
I know chemo brain makes you foggy. I know that post chemo/radiation leaves you physically and emotionally drained. I know that depression is very common (and he is taking anti-depressants to help with this). I know that I have not walked in his shoes and I can't really know how he feels. I know that everyone is different as to when they find a new normal, and really I don't think he is depressed or struggling right now.
He just hates to pack. Hey so do I, but someone has to get things ready before the movers arrive tomorrow morning. I would like to sit and read a book to relax too. So instead I have run away to this computer to post a question/share a frustration with the sages.
So please, I beg of you don't read this and send me a slamming e-mail about how I don't care or how I don't understand. I do care. I have been available and caring 24/7 for more than 6 months now while he has gone through this incredibly rough ordeal. I have cleaned up vomit countless times. I have set my clock to wake every two hours to feed him, medicate him, or monitor his temp through the night. I have taken so many hours off from work and gone to every single appointment with him except two. I have been his cheerleader; his nutritionist (he still weighs the same after all this despite the peg tube); his caretaker; his best friend; his rock.
When might he return to be mine? It doesn't seem too much to ask for help now that he is feeling better.