Hello fellow caretaker!

Now that we're 7 months past the heat of treatment I can tell you these sage words of advice. Hang on to your hat, don't take it personally and... Ed (my survivor) will attest to this - know you STILL can (and have the right to) stand up for yourself! Sometimes its easier to just take it and accept its alot of fear, anger at the disease, disappointment at the prospect of shattered dreams, feelings of inadequacy and exhaustion talking but there comes a time in every faithful caregiver's life when you look your irradiated and withered loved one and say, "I'm sorry you have cancer. I know it's tough for you and you gotta know it's kicking my butt, too. Cancer doesn't have the right to invade your body and you don't have the right to abuse me. We're on the same page, fighting the same ugly battle. If you have something specific you want/need - tell me or I will assume what I'm doing is right and in your best interest."

I don't know your personal situation or the stage your husband's treatment or recovery but as he becomes more able - let him do some stuff for himself. Like I have come to accept (and it makes me feel like a schmuck) you can't be everything all the time.

My heart goes out to you. It's a time when you feel your loneliest and hurt SO bad (for yourself and your hubby). I don't know that I have many answers but I have a willing heart and ear.

Hang in there and rationalize that it's hard for our cancer warriors to rationalize when every ounce of energy is spent trying to kill the enemy (and it isn't us, even though we feel like it some times). God bless you and repeat...

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference."

I promise - it's a bear but it gets better as everyone gets used to the "new normal". Some days are a breeze and others... well, you can guess my choice of words. Some days there's less anger and resentment on your part and theirs. Take those precious moments when the wind dies down to remind him how much you love him and empathize with what you believe he's feeling ('cause we'll never really know).