“He’s a total ass, and then he’s sad, and then I hate him. And then I feel sorry for him, and then I’m compelled to divorce him again, and then I love him… right before he’s a total ass again. Lather, rinse, repeat.
It never occurred to me when I divorced my husband ten years ago that I would eventually become his caregiver and the sole means of his emotional, financial and domicile support. But when he was officially diagnosed with metastatic NSCLC seven weeks ago, that is exactly what happened. To be clear, it was not something that slowly eased into being the new way we do things. It’s more accurate to say it came crashing down as an instantaneous new reality that seeped inside of every cell and dared me to defy or question what I already knew was true: This is the man you married thirty years ago. This is the father of your children. This is what you are going to do, like it or not, day in and day out, until he can do it for himself again.
I realize it may seem irrational to expect a stage four lung cancer that has metastasized to the bone would be so kind as to allow its host to actually get strong enough to start taking care of himself again, but I am an eternal optimistic through and through. I also firmly believe that if a fight is worth fighting, then it’s worth going in with all your might and your highest expectations.”