Dec 07, 2012 - 7:20 pm
I would like to say some things about caregivers, especially mine. Being a caregiver to someone who has cancer has to be one of the toughest things in the world. My caregiver, my husband, was absolutely the best caregiver in the world. It was truly a fact that I didn’t have cancer, WE had cancer. He was there beside me every step of the way, never missing a single doctor’s appointment or chemo treatment. He would have gone to the radiation room with me if they would have allowed him. He never left my side when I had my surgery except when I was in ICU and they would only let him see me at visiting hours. He had a cot in my step-down room and stayed every night.
How he tolerated me at times, I honestly don’t know. I was not always the most pleasant of people. I felt sick from the treatment before surgery—couldn’t even stand the smell of a baking potato. I felt scared out of my mind right before surgery. I felt depressed post-op, when I began to wonder if I would ever come back from the Ivor-Lewis surgery. No matter what my attitude, he was always there, encouraging me, pushing me, making me get up and walk no matter how much I grumbled at him about it, getting me out of the house to just ride around. When I couldn’t sleep, he sat up with me. When I cried, he held me. And, yes, when I was acting like a total witch (feel free to start that word with a b), he just kept on hugging and loving me. When I finally managed to eat my first real meal and keep it down, he was my biggest cheerleader.
He screened my calls, dealing with everything from insurance to work issues. He kept up with my meds, of which there were tons. He kept up with my massive numbers of appointments. In short, he took the total load off my shoulders so that I could focus all of my energy on fighting cancer. To put it simply, he was my rock.
As I said, caregivers are very special. I hope each and every caregiver is appreciated for all they do. I honestly can’t think of a tougher role.
DX October 2009: T3N1M0