Saturday, March 17, 2012


I still spend so much of my time blaming myself for the failure of my marriage. I hate myself for not being a good wife and for being sick when he was so healthy and good... I'm wrong, and it took the words of a very good friend and his experience with his wife's cancer to remind me that I did it right. The fact that my husband left me doesn't change that.

Thank you Olav and Kat. I hope that some day I too will find that person who can be there for me through thick and thin.

This is Not My Wife

Well, it's a photo of a part of who she is, but at the same time, who she was. This was a few years ago, and in some ways seems like another lifetime.

But, that's not the point. Something's been bugging me for a couple of weeks, and I think talking about it on Tuesday is appropriate - halfway between #manlymondays and #womenwednesday

I found out that one of Kat's friends is getting divorced, and the reason she's stating is that basically, ever since she was diagnosed with cancer, her husband has increasingly become a complete and utter dick. What doubly bothers me is that they started chemo about the same time, and have been done with that for a couple of years now.

Not cool.

I'll be the first dude to say that living with a cancer survivor ain't always easy- especially during treatment. From the biopsy to reconstruction, a lot of thing suck. And they suck a lot. There's surgeries. There are tubes, and drains for seroma, and watching helplessly while someone you love is in pain, or vomiting more than you ever imagined humanly possible. There's horror, and fear and fatigue. I won't lie about that.

But you know what, Mr. Soon-to-be-kicked-to-the-curb? You decided to e a dick about it. In my mind, you may as well have cheated on her. You broke that vow.

In sickness and in health.

We all make some variation of that vow. We all hope that there's going to be a lot of 'in health' and that that 'in sickness' means someone gets the flu now and then. And I'm sure no one expects something so heavy to happen to anyone - woman or man - in their late thirties. But it happens. Bad things happen to good people all the time.

And in that, you missed a
golden opportunity.

You could have focused on the positive. How wonderful your wife is. What a survivor, and a strong spirit, she is. How much just the fact that she's
fighting is a testament to how you married a good lady, and how she brings so much good into your life despite the fact that she got sick, but no. You had to become a dick.

Again, not cool.

I'm going to say something right now - I know you had a couple of good years, and lots of sexyfuntime before things got 'hard', and that's a difficult change, but you know what?

I got three months. Suck it. We got married in April and she found the lump in June. I nearly lost her before our life even began. We never even had a honeymoon.

And that doesn't matter. Even at the worst, we found things we could do together. She got me to pick up the camera again and do things with it. She let me take this shot, for example, bearing all her weights and still they weren't so heavy because we were (and are) a team - and honestly I leaned on her nearly as much as she did on me - and just made it work.

And no, things aren't perfect. I've got my issues, and she's got hers. And we both try to not think about the statistics, because they're not rosy. But such is life. Each day is precious, even when it suck ass. Instead of it being a wedge, it's become something that binds us - by experience that we can never fully share, and just by the sheer growth that we've had to do to survive. Being a dick about it was never an option. For either of us.

tl;dr: Nothing would make me happier if everyone that reads this hugs their spouse/SO/lover/whatever and thinks about what 'together' means. In sickness, and in health, and hopefully 'till death do us part'. And, be excellent to one another.

(and, I know people seem to be reticent to share what I post - even publicly - but really, It's okay)

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