Saturday, March 10, 2012

Living with Leukemia part 9. The End.

When I started this series of posts on how the Husband’s illness affected us I never thought I’d end up where I am right now. I actually thought I’d be at the opposite of where I am right now. Cause where I am right now is at the dashing of all my hopes and dreams. The other day I mentioned a quote by Dr Seuss from Oh, the places you will go, if only we knew when we embarked on this voyage the places we would go. We would at least have tried to veer off course, perhaps.

The Husband and I, we’ve been off for some time, possibly since a little while before his illness. When I think back to when he was first diagnosed, how we honestly thought it would bring us closer together, how such a serious hurdle to overcome together would help us put aside all our pettiness and it would bridge whatever divide had started to come between us, how silly of us. It did, of course, for a time, it brought us back together, we clung to each other like a drowning man to a life raft. And yet here we are discussing the dreaded S word, the one that precedes the much more final D word, the point of no return.

Tonight I lay in bed next to the Boy and all I could feel was guilty. The endless debate in my head: how can I seriously consider tearing apart his stability, pulling the rug out from under him, how do I break up his home? And yet, how do I not? What am I teaching him, we’re his example of love, of companionship, of partnership, we’re teaching him how to relate to others, is this really what I want for him?

The Husband and I, we’re civil, most of the time, we’re friends, we talk and get along but we also hate each other, we’re mean, and unpleasant, we’re not really good examples. We could go on like this for years, most likely, but why? Why should we, when we still remember what it was like to love each other, to like each other?

I don’t know where this is going, but I do know it can’t stay like this, because if no one is happy then everybody loses.

This is the last living with leukemia post I’ll write, because it’s heartbreaking to me that we managed to avoid the one and only really terrifying ending that could have come from this illness, that of a life without the Husband, ironic then, that now I may still be living my life without the Husband. 

If you're interested in the other Living with Leukemia posts you can find them here:
Part 1 - The Girl
Part 2 - Me
Part 3 - Me again
Part 4 - Broken
Part 5 - Anniversary of T.W.C.O.A.T.
Part 6 - Anger
Part 7 - Loneliness
Part 8 - The Ugly Truth


  1. i'm thinking of you, especially through this time.  your posts about living with leukemia are powerful -- all outlining your normal responses to such a situation.  sending care to you.  

  2. Here again an incredible post, a deeply honest introspection. Could it be that this journey, this intimate sharing you've done for almost two years, this blog, have all been the stepping stones -- some jagged, others slippery -- but some smooth and shiny and stable? Perhaps this has been part of the most difficult odyssey we undertake here on earth, the discovery of our innermost selves.
    You say you're wracked with guilt over hurting others, but kindness towards one's self is the first step towards true and transparent outreach. The children will adapt to the shifts, trusting in you and the husband's guidance and gleaning safety from the two of you, though you may travel down separate paths. Illness has been a mammoth test in your relationship and perhaps it's whispered its own quiet message too -- you've both faced the worst headlong and maybe you're both seeing things with a new clarity.
    Marriages take time and work and rumination and sacrifice and push and pull, but maybe you've done enough of all of those things and still more. And maybe you know what you're ready for. 
    On a more personal level, do email, do call if you need a chat.
    Baci, Alcira 

  3. What a sad yet honest from the heart post. I truly feel for you and as a survivor of cancer and also wife to a survivor I know the toll the diagnosis' brings to marriage. I am thinking of you during this time in your life and pray for strength as you cross into new territory!

  4. I want to be one more voice, letting you know that I'm listening and I hear you. And, if it's helpful, letting you know that there is life after divorce. 

  5. I don't know what I could say that could bring you comfort. I'm sure this must be the hardest decision you'll ever make, for you and your children. I hope that wherever the road leads it brings you peace and happiness. You all deserve it.

  6. You know I am here if you want to or need to talk. You know you have a network when and if you need it, right?

  7. Life is just so hard sometimes and people suffer in so many ways.  I'm sorry that you are going through this after going through the illness. I know and believe that there will be points of sunshine that will shine very brightly in your life.  Keep looking up. 

  8. Thanks for your thoughts, it means a lot to me.

  9. thanks friend, still trying to figure things out, but I'm sure it'll all work out in the end.

  10. thanks, cancer changes a lot, it's true, but sometimes things like these help you figure out what direction you really want to take.

  11. Thank you. Life does indeed go on, inevitably, I'm not there yet mentally but it is helpful to hear it occasionally!

  12. I know, thank you. And as you know, I have to work things out in my head and heart before I can actually talk about them, and I will, sooner or later.

  13. Up has always been my favorite direction!

  14. Oh I'm sorry.  In the end you have to do what is best for you and your family.  You have a life to lead too.  Big hugs!!