“I am an awful wife and a terrible person!” I have been telling myself this ever since we got the phone call. The one we’ve been dreading since the day my husband was diagnosed with heptacellular carcenoma (HCC), liver cancer.
The one that we expected eventually but still stunned me when it came. For the last five years, I have stood by my husband’s side as he has undergone tests, scans and invasive treatments, swallowed medications, battled nausea, pain, fatigue, hair and weight loss, and accumulated more doctors and prescriptions than many people do in their lifetime.
HCC is incurable, and we were informed early on that it would likely eventually kill him, as he was not a candidate for a transplant.
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