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My husband's chemotherapy story

Grandparents and children sharing tips and stories

From Charlotte Simpson in Camberley

My husband Joe was diagnosed with cancer on 19th September 2008. That date I'll never forget. They still don't know what cancer it is to this day, but apparently it's the bowel/pancreas area. I'm 23, he's 27. Life was perfect. We'd been travelling around the world for 19 months, just bought our first house together and found out I was pregnant. Everything was slotting into place just like we'd dreamt of, although he had this on-going pain in his stomach area since about February time. Then they told us he's got the big C. To say it was a shock is an understatement, as I'm sure all of you who are reading this can relate to. No words can explain.

He proposed later that day and we got married 10 days later. We didn't want to delay it any longer as we always knew we'd get married some day and we knew when he started chemo it would make him feel rough, so we thought the sooner the better. We had such a special day.

Joe's having a really rough time with the chemo at the moment. He just hasn't got out of bed for weeks on end, even struggling to go to the toilet and feeling terrible. The worse thing is that I can't do anything to help him apart from just be there and wait, watch and hope he'll get better. All our friends and family are rallying around, trying to help and there literally is nothing anyone can do. Joe is refusing to see anyone, his parents are always desperate to see him but he just doesn't want anyone near him apart from me.

I'm just lost most of the time, trying to be strong for Joe and trying not to cry in front of him, when inside it's all I ever want to do. When I see him crawl up the stairs, struggling to walk, in pain and terribly thin, I have to look away as it literally hurts my chest. I feel so jealous of everyone walking around, being normal, going to work, worrying about what they're going to have for dinner and things like that. It's such a cliché, but if only those people knew what they had.

It's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel but I know there is one, I can feel it in my bones that he's going to be fine by the end of all this horrible treatment. It's just taking so long to get there! I'm 7 months gone now and can't wait for our baby girl to arrive and we can be our little family we always wanted. She might just be the extra push he needs to beat this. I hope so!

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Updated: 28 September 2009