Terrified husband just needs to talk

Hi everybody. As the title says, I’m a scared husband just looking to put my feelings down, I hope you don’t mind. 

Our story must be recognised by many of you. My wife and I are in our late 50’s, just retired, and we live(d) a very content, happy life in an idyllic part of the country. Like everyone we have our ups and downs, but the word ‘cancer’ never came into our lives. Oh yes, it swirled around out there…we have friends and relatives who have been effected by cancer, but we never dreamed it would come along and hit us directly. 

And then, suddenly. 

A normal, standard mammogram…quickly forgotten about…leads to a letter inviting my wife for further checks because the results were ‘unclear’. So a few days ago, we both went to the breast screening centre for these further tests. Still nothing to worry about, and neither of us believed anything could be wrong…until the point 2 hours later where I was invited join my wife in a room with the consultant and another nurse. 

‘Mrs XXX, the tests have shown a 1.5cm mass in your left breast. A biopsy has been taken and you’ll receive the results in 2 weeks, but we are 99% certain that this is cancer. At the moment, we no indication of spread to the lymph nodes’. 

And just like that, our life changed forever. Or it feels like it has. 

We came home in a daze, and a few days later we’re still seeing the world through the lens of these words…nothing looks or feels the same as it was before. You look at information on the internet, then you stop because it tortures you. And then you go back to it. The minutes drag past and you hold each other, each of us hoping that we’ll somehow open our eyes and it won’t be real…but of course, it is. And we both do a lot of crying.

And worst of all, and exaggerated by the fact that you both can’t say it, you can’t get the words ‘death sentence’ out of your head. My wife is out at the moment meeting friends, which will do her good, and I suddenly look at our empty house in a different way…it’s terrifying. 

But we know that we have to keep moving forward. The next step being the biopsy results and a more complete diagnosis in 10 days or so. The internet, for all of its ability to torture your mind, also throws up wonderful websites like this…believe me, I’ve looked at many of your stories and I’m in awe of your courage and resilience. 

So there you go. I’m not sure what I wanted from posting this, other than to talk. The inner child in me desperately wants someone to say, ‘it’ll be all right, the cancer will go and never come back, and you’ll both live long and happy lives together’. 

But I know there are no guarantees, and that makes it hard. 

But anyway, if anyone has read this far and is still listening, thank you. 

7 Likes

Let me jump straight to something you say towards the end of your post. Breast cancer isn’t a death sentence. Treatments have improve considerably over the years, and breast cancer is now something that people live with. 

I found the early days the most difficult, mainly because I didn’t know what I was facing. You need the biopsy results, that will tell you what sort of cancer is it, which will dictate the treatment plan. When things were being done I felt a lot better. 

At the moment I’d advise to stay off Google, you can scare yourself unnecessarily very easily. I limited my reading to large professional organisations, such as here, and MacMillan and even then only posts on forums and articles that were about my type of cancer. 

You might find talking to someone will help you, especially at the moment while you’re staggering from this blow (and yes, it is one heck of a blow, I was also diagnoses just as I’d retired, and suddenly all my plans for retirement with my husband flew out of the window, but you’ll get through this and restart your plans, even if they change a bit). Check out the support that’s around, here, MacMillan website, your hospital support services etc. 

Try to find some things to do while waiting for the next hospital appointment. 

Best wishes.

Hi Northern Lights

I can’t fault Carrie’s advice. She’s written exactly what I had intended to write.

Your minds, like so many others, seem to be shaped by outdated tropes better suited to the last century. There are many types of breast cancer and many stages and grades. There’s also a shedload of useless and misguiding statistics, usually out of date. But we aren’t a statistic. We are individuals and each experience and each treatment plan is different. So I’d advise you to abandon the research, definitely ban any Google query, and wait till you have the full diagnosis and a treatment plan. Honestly, a load will be lifted and it may be easier then to accept that most (85%) survive their treatment and move on to a cancer-free life. Personally, I’m one of the unlucky ones - it metastasised - but my outlook on life is nowhere near as grim as yours, and you’ve barely started!

You are right. Your world has changed and now must embrace cancer. Its shadow will never go away but there are thousands (millions?) of women out there who have put it behind them and moved on to a new life, maybe not the one originally planned but there are always spanners to fall into the works. Meantime, again from personal experience and the wish, your wife would truly benefit from support that acknowledges but doesn’t feed her fears. Two heads definitely are better than one but one of them needs to be grounded, realistic and fully supportive. My husband has been grieving ever since my secondary diagnosis. It is NOT helpful, believe me! Hopefully your inner child will be reassured by the ‘certainties’ of your wife’s treatment plan and your adult self will recognise how you can best support your wife. But please don’t jump to the conclusion that breast cancer = death. Not any more.

Why not ring the Nurses’ Helpline (number top right). They offer a fantastic service, you won’t be the first distraught husband they have talked to and they can point you to the right resources, including Someone Like Me, which might help you reframe your perspective a bit.

Wishing your wife a smooth journey as they sort out her cancer,

Jan

I’m so sorry to hear your news but glad you’ve reached out on this helpful site. You’ll both find a lot of useful information and loving support here. 

I’d echo Jan and Carrie’s thoughtful posts and say that yes, your lives have indeed changed in an awful instant… but breast cancer is highly treatable today, and women do go on to live long and happy, fruitful lives, especially when caught early. So, please do hold on to hope - the outlook for small, localised tumours is very good indeed. 

I can understand the terrible shock you’ve both had, especially as it was picked up at screening. That will take time to come to terms with, and as said before, once you have initial biopsy results you’ll have a better idea of what you’re dealing with and possible treatment scenarios. 

In my case, I found a pea sized lump (at the same age as my mum & sister did) after a clear mammogram, so was not a great surprise and I found I quickly accepted matters and got on with dealing with it, one step at a time. We have no known breast cancer genes, so it’s just ageing, oestrogen and bad luck. Scans can show a different picture… after surgery my lump went from 21mm to 14mm (I had some invasive and pre-invasive areas and the lump initially appeared longer after being ‘squashed’ in the mammogram.) It will take time to thoroughly investigate and you will only have a definitive picture once surgery and pathology is complete. The NHS will take great of your wife - at the results appointment you should be introduced to a breast care nurse - use her, she’s an invaluable resource!

The hardest part is waiting for results and procedures (and feeling your life has been taken over by stressful appointments). Now is the time to put in place some coping strategies. Distraction and self care (diet, exercise, walks in nature, music, focus on ‘helpful, empathetic friends and family’, anything that’s helps) can work wonders and help you both cope with the uncertainty. I worked in the breast cancer field and have unfortunately seen many loved ones go through this - one of the best pieces of advice I got from a surgeon friend was ‘go with the flow’. There is a lot you can’t control, but equally there is a lot you can control in how you deal with it and that can be very empowering. I had surgery in Nov, radiotherapy in Feb and am now gradually rebuilding my life as I heal and my energy returns - in many ways it’s better than before as a cancer diagnosis does force you to re-evaluate things. Having had breast cancer has given me a license to focus on the things and people that give me joy and an excuse to dump the rest!

I just wanted to let you know that while things are very challenging now, they will get better. Try not to look too far ahead at this point, deal with what’s in front of you.

All the very best in the coming weeks and don’t hesitate to ask any questions here. 

JS64