My husband of 44 years was diagnosed with stage 4 oesophageal cancer in February 2024 after 3 endoscopies, biopsies, a CT scan and a PET scan.  The cancer had spread to the liver, pelvis, bones, upper sigmoid and abdominal lymph nodes.  Before Christmas 2023 we had no idea anything was wrong.  He died in April, 4 weeks ago.  The cancer progressed so fast it was difficult to keep up with the changing symptoms.  I likened it to one of those video games where a monster is rampaging through a forest trampling everything in sight with snipers and explosions and arrows aimed at it, but they bounce off. 

My husband ate a whole Christmas dinner and seemed fine but by February had lost over 2 stone in weight, struggled to eat, and by March could hardly swallow liquids.  He then had a stent inserted which caused severe pain, was rushed to A & E with suspected sepsis, spent 15 hours in A & E in a corridor, sent home with antibiotics.  He could hardly swallow, didn't feel hungry, hardly eating, lost more weight, developed Bell's palsy with severe nerve pain on left side, could not shut left eye, developed a cough and could hardly breathe.  He  then kept falling as the cancer in the pelvis was causing the left leg to collapse. 

My daughter was staying with me and we could hardly sleep for worry.  For the last week of his life he was taken into the local hospice and received the most unbelievable care and compassion which I did not think possible. He was on oxygen and a syringe driver.  Even more unbelievable was that the hospice has to run solely on donations which have fallen due to the cost of living crisis and therefore they cannot open all their beds.  

I'm OK outdoors but it is awful going back to the empty, silent house, seeing his empty chair, realising all the things he did which I will now be doing by myself, thinking of him when I first met him 44 years ago.  I hear odd sounds in the house and I think someone is there.  I can't sit at the dining room table as that is where we ate together; I can't watch quiz shows as we used to watch them together. I worry about every little thing.  I know I need to give it time, slow down, do helpful things and get used to a "new normal".  I have family and friends but the most important person in my life is missing.  I long to just hug him again.  A friend said "he's only in the next room".