The tables have turned

The tables have turned............I'm the one who's always been sick, the one who can't leave the house, to need someone, mainly Joe, to take care of me. Depression is a debilitating disease, that causes you too lose yourself. When I had my breakdown, I lost everything, my career, self-esteem, and my life. I became isolated, stopped visiting friends and family, a prisoner in my own mind. Anxiety, panic attacks, and a sense of worthlessness became my prison, where eventually, I became agoraphobic and couldn't leave my home for 2 years. Through many years of cognitive therapy, psychiatrist visits, medication, and positive self talk, I was starting to come out, meaning, I could go to the grocery store for a few groceries, I could walk to the mail box, but still couldn't manage going anywhere without Joe.

 When Joe was diagnosed with cancer last May, the shift was immediate. I became the caretaker, the one who had to be strong, but how does one just turn the tables and not be affected? I mean, depression compared to cancer isn't something you can complain about, nor was it something I could even talk about, so I did the only thing I could do, and that was putting it on a shelf, bringing every emotion inward, too the point where I became numb.

The only time I cried was when I learned that Mom may also have cancer, lung cancer, so both my husband and my Mom had cancer. How was that even possible? God, I prayed, please take away this pain, I can't handle both of them being sick, please, spare at least one. I cried so hard, the last time I cried like that was when my father passed away, 25 years ago. Just before the biopsy, we learned that Mom and Joe were going in the same day, they ended up in a room beside each other. This wasn't arranged, in fact, the nurses were beside themselves that the two were related. About a week later, we discovered that Mom was cleared and didn't have cancer, but Joe had a rare form, that would take months of chemo therapy (by mouth) for the 9cm tumour to shrink to the point where they could go in safely to remove it.

May 1st, 2014, I became the caretaker, not the patient.

Joe was immediately told that he couldn't go back to work, we knew from the biopsy that the type of cancer he has was called GIST, a rare form of cancer that was only managed through Gleevec, a type of chemo therapy given by mouth. He lost weight quickly, was nauseated, fatigued, and couldn't do what he normally did around the house. Our roles had changed, quickly, and that's okay, except I didn't know who to turn too, as I'm not one who likes to ask for help, and I find it hard to accept help. This was my new role, so I did it all, from healthy, organic, homemade meals, to home management, to outside maintenance.

 I couldn't speak of being tired, sad, or depressed, because as Joe once said to me " what are you complaining about? You don't have cancer!" So there it was.............my depression, anxiety, and panic attacks, which didn't magically disappear, had to remain silent.  There it stayed, locked away, the day the tables turned.