Hi Dasha,
Can I share my experience?
I remember being so angry in my chemo - angry at everyone because I was (unconsciously) sure that they were going to leave me to die, or, didn't care if I did die. I don't know if you have experienced similar but, as is my experience - thing is, when you get that close to death, you are suddenly faced with the reality that, life will go on without you - the (bloody) sun will keep shining, the (damned) birds chirping and your family and friends will get to live on, without you!! It's truly terrifying and insulting to your own life to be faced with the fact that, in reality, you can be here one day, gone and forgotten the next.
My lashing out was in desperate fear I realise now - I was terrified of dying, wanted to push at people and see how much they would tolerate - amongst many other things that are too complex and too hard to unpack just here, now. Keep in mind, I didn't realise it at the time as I was craaaazy with fear - it really is just so primal. On top of this you have the frustration of not being able to "do" much (sometimes anything) with that energy to affirm yourself or your life in some way (like walking, working or even reading because you are so sick you cannot focus), so, to add to that, you are intensely bored, and where as once you may have distracted yourself from uncomfortable feelings (drinking, going out, watching tv), now nothing does it for you - and, as said, you cannot focus anyhow.
What I really needed to hear in my time - again, in retrospect - was that people loved me, that they would stick by me, support me, and that they wanted me to live and be in the world; that the world will miss me if I did die, but, of course there was no way they were going to let that happen. I also wanted to be reassured that I was not going through it alone, that someone would walk every step with me, and give me strength. Additionally, I needed to be shown a more gentle way of getting through it, and perhaps how to face such intense emotions and new, uncharted territory - maybe meditation would've helped at the time - something that was discovered afterwards and was huge. I also craved nature - trees, green, earth, birds, animals to draw strength from. But of course, no one would take me to the country.
It seemed apparent that everyone was doing just what they needed to do at that time - the obligatory visit, drops-off to chemo (and then leave to go to the giftshop or cafe because chemo was boring for them). Mostly it was obvious that they wanted to get on with their lives that provided them with more quality, and was not so depressing, as soon as they could. Many times I could see them edging for the door, and not really interested or listening. No one really wanted to just sit with me, hear my concerns, fears, regrets, hopes, dreams, or unusual thoughts and imaginings during my experience. Or just sit with me.
Would your hubby do anything creative at this time? Is he able to get on with a small project - something he's never done before. Is there something that you both may be able to do together? Sit and read to him something that can help him come to terms and gently open his emotions? Are you able to simply ask him to open up about his fears and anger at a time and place that will be supportive and safe for him to do so?
Just some thoughts. I realise we are not all the same, and indeed it is common understanding that men fear exploring/discussing their emotions. May be why it might well be all the more difficult to handle.
All the best, I hope I've given an other's perspective that will be of help.
Sarah.
