I met Duncan in the pub in Feburary 2017. He had split up from his wife, and I was a mess of a person; drug addict, alcoholic, and newly diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. Duncan looked maybe a few years older than me. I was 26. Turns out he was 17 years older, but that didn't matter. After a night at a live music gig, and then being chucked out of the pub at 3am after a long, deep and philosophical conversation, on April 1st 2017 I knew he was a keeper. 

I'm now 31, and hes newly 48. I've been clean for 3 years, and Duncan has helped me cope with my mental health, and we have found happiness and belonging together. Madly in love nearly 5 years on.

 SO... We went to my cousins wedding on Halloween, we ate loads of food, drank loads of alcohol, and danced (or rather moshed, as it was a "goth" wedding, and we love a good mosh). He started getting stomach pains, and the next morning he was in agony. I drove us the 4 hour drive home, and he got worse. So he went to the gp, who sent him up to a&e. We sat there for 7 hours, to be told he had gallstones, but his bloods were all fine, and he needed to take co-codomol for a few days. 

Well a few days later, and he was worse than ever. Crippled with pain, unable to keep water down, and lethargic as hell, I dragged him to the gp surgery, where he proceeded to vomit more than I have ever seen anyone vomit before. Straight upto the hospital and he was put on a ward. He had a CT scan, and they found a large mass blocking his intestines. Two days later he was in surgery. 

They found a tumor the size of a cricket ball, that was blocking his ileum. They removed part of his bowels, and as much of the "stuff" as they could. It was all over the urinary tract that connects the kidney to the bladder. They apparently "shaved" it. It's spread a few cm over the perineum and to the lymph (I think, the doctor made no real sense) ... I am pretty obsessed with medical stuff, but I honestly have no idea what they meant by that. Off it was sent for testing. 

10 days later, and Dunc was due home, but his kidneys weren't functioning and he stayed in the hospital a few extra days. Due to covid rules, I hadn't been allowed to visit, so the night he was "supposed" to come home, they let me in to see him. That's when I found out it was cancer. I had hoped it was just a bening papule or something, but no. 

Once out of the hospital, he was scheduled for a review with the surgeon. We went, and this guy was very reluctant to tell us anything. He didn't even want to confirm the name of the cancer, but I insisted he write it down for me. Goblet Cell adenocarcinoma. He said we should wait to see the oncologist until after xmas. I put my foot down and said no ASAP. Duncan agreed. Never actually found out what they did exactly surgically, the doctor wouldn't awnser our questions. Telling us that asking them was pointless. I left feeling worse than ever. 

Me being me, straight to google after we left. I have no idea how bad this is. I have no idea if Duncan is going to survive this. I don't know what happens next. Google has given me some idea of what this cancer is, and how its usually treated. That he should be reffered to a hospital in Manchester. I guess we will find out more on the 14th when we see the Oncologist. 

All I know right now, is that the man I love, who helped me overcome addiction, and terrifying mental health issues, who has loved me and cared for me like nobody ever had before (I've got a long history of abusive relationships), has cancer. I don't want him to die. We had just started making plans for our future, house, baby maybe... I am beyond heartbroken, and petrified. 

I talk, as a way to cope with my mental health struggles, but Duncan doesn't want to talk.