The thing that made me alone

hey guys. I’ve had an overwhelming response to my blog and a lot more people and a lot of people I would have never guessed actually read it. First of all thanks!  Second of all I’m sorry I’ve been gone. I’m a little drained but have had some good fun days with new friends and taking to my besties. One thing that has helped too is listening to my friends problems.  The only bad thing about that is I’m worried I’m just ignoring my own and not fully coping, but I cant do that I just need to keep moving forward. my therapist and i got to talking about my guilt of being happy sometimes and my loneliness. Most of what  I’m about to say no one knows about at all and for those closest to Ankur it may be really hard to read so I don’t advise it for everyone.  I’m trying to be honest but this is the short version of the start of his  cancer. Ankur’s cancer didn’t just pop up one day.   He had this very large growth on his leg since we met.  Most girls would have gone running and actually did but I didn’t.  To me that was nothing. That didn’t define Ankur and I saw past it. Hey I’m not perfect. I don’t have a perfect body so who am I to judge like that. I was attracted to him and mostly his personality AND he took me for me. Yes we both worked hard on our physique but it was something to do together. Not something that we made each other feel as if we needed to do. He was/is the only person that I was actually completely comfortable around, even when I was at my heaviest. It was that love that made the pressure to be “perfect” less and more about we just like doing it together. As time went on, I still never said anything about the growth. Until it started growing and bleeding everywhere. Oh I was blamed for blood spots and smells in beds and such but it actually was not me. I really didn’t mind that either because I was more worried about him. Ankur is stubborn. If you try to make him do something he will fight. I do the same thing so I was trying to be very careful with my suggestions.  Then the smell came. It got infected. The smell was sooo bad that I actually would get headaches at night and had to sleep on the couch. He would feel bad so he would offer to but the smell was so bad in the bedroom, I just couldn’t stay in there. For lack of better word, it oozed on everything and no amount of laundry or cleaning would truly help.  I had to prepare for friends or family to come over because it was everywhere. I tried to stay in bed for us but that was the beginning on me sleeping on the couch.  I slept on a couch for over 2 years and at one point I couldnt even cuddle with him on the couch. I went years without being able to be with him or have him even hold me. I know it sounds crazy but I still saw past it. It wasn’t him it was something that was just on him and really hoped it could get taken care of and we could go back to where we started. It was infected for probably 1-2 years.  I couldn’t tell anyone and the people I tried to didn’t understand. We had to plan trips out of the house early. when he would start smelling or bleeding or oozing through all the bandages and his pants, especially during the summer, I would whisper in his ear and we would have to go home. There was absolutely no going out after work. He needed to go home and shower and change everything. If he didn’t he would be very uncomfortable and angry. Some people made comments about a strong bad smell but it was so strange, he was able to blame it on New York City. It became and art hiding it. This thing, this thing that I tried to ignore was tearing us apart. I still loved him with all my heart though and nothing in the world could make me leave him for something that was just a thing. I’m an optimistic realist, so in my head if he went to the doctor and it got fixed, all our problems could be fixed too.  It took me sucking up embarrassing him and I told my sister.  She is a nurse and was in NY for our engagement party. I told her what had been going on and said do you smell that. It’s an infection right?  She agreed with me and stressed the severity of the situation. She said the few words that I never even imagined. She said if you wait too long, it can turn in to cancer. I became panicked.  We went to Africa with this open infected wound.  I just got engaged to the man I want to be with forever and I could lose him to his pride. I had lost several family members to cancer so it was not a new word around my house.  I was sick of him being embarrassed and told him what she said and if he didn’t go to the doctor, I would make the appointment for him and make him go. He made the appointment and went in, they were stupid and ignored the infection and after a few dermatology freezing sessions to take off the tumor, which was the size of a mini pie at this point, I said this is not right.  Nothing was getting better and it was getting worse. That started the multiple consultations and doctors visits that I insisted on just going to and waiting in the waiting room for him, that led to where we ended up.  a tumorous skin cancer that had traveled in to his body.  Biopsies were impossible because of the infection so they had to work blindly and fast. He had four surgeries in 2 months. The whole time though he kept lying to the doctors about how long he had the growth and the infection. I not wanting to take over and embarrass him, because I respected him, didn’t say a thing. Every lie he told just made me feel so defeated and angry. This is a serious thing can you just be honest. This is life or death. I also wanted to be strong for him and not tear him down because he was going through so much. It was killing me. I couldn’t have the person I loved most in the world. I still looked to the future. I kept telling myself after this hurdle everything will be ok, and then there was another and another and another. But I didn’t give up.  This whole time, and all those months and years sleeping alone, buying new clothes for him and uncountable bandages and wraps, all the laundry and cleaning, and having to keep secrets and just getting so frustrated made me shut down. I had such a laser focus to get him back that I lost myself.  I’m not mad at him, at some point I was but not now. I just wish he could have been honest so maybe I wouldn’t have had to be so alone then and now. That’s what made when we could travel so special. We actually got to sleep together and he didn’t feel so self-conscious I guess.  He lied a lot. He didn’t always do what he was supposed to with his dressings and wouldn’t let me do it till the end. Till he was so defeated and in so much pain could I help him. Why wouldn’t he do it? Why did he not take better care of himself?  Why was he so prideful?  None of those questions will ever be answered. One weird thing is I would actually do it all over again if it meant. I could have him in the end.  I was alone then and am now too.  Well no I just lied. I’m working on getting better and have had some of the most amazing friends around me and help me through all of this.  There is no way I could be where I am at this point if it wasn’t for them and my family. There is no way I could be able to write share this right now if I didn’t. I’m making progress and plan on continuing. why I’m being so honest?  it can kill you if you are not.


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