When Sally* was diagnosed with cancer, it signalled the end of her relationship
*NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED. WORDS: ASHLEIGH PAGE
In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.’ Those were the vows I exchanged with my husband Martin* back in 1991. Young and in love, we both meant every word. A scenario where either one of us would break those promises seemed impossible.
Martin and I met in our 20s and like most young couples, we had a fun, exciting relationship. Even after we married and had our two children we made time for each other and were as in love as ever. I always did my best to support him, travelling the world with the kids in tow for his work.
Then in December 2015, aged 44, I was waiting for an appointment with a gynaecologist after suffering from heavy periods for a while when I came down with flu-like symptoms. Confined to my bed, I felt like I had no energy at all. Within days I was vomiting blood and my temperature soared. Martin bundled me into the car and drove me to A&E where I was seen quickly. Blood tests revealed my immune system wasn’t working at all and I needed blood and platelet transfusions immediately.
Transferred to a short-stay ward, I was given nine pints of blood. The next day a haematologist consultant had some terrible news. I had cancer.
I clutched Martin’s hand as we listened to the consultant, who explained I had acute lymphoblastic leukaemia (ALL) and offered me a trial chemotherapy treatment. We were both too upset to speak and continued to clutch hands, neither of us wanting to let go.
I began the trial straight away, but just weeks into it, still in hospital, I started suffering from strange symptoms. I had tingling, numbness and spasm in both hands, I lost the ability to swallow and I caught numerous infections.
In March 2016, I was finally discharged from the hospital, though I had to return for weekly appointments. By this point, I’d lost all mobility down the left side of my body, I’d had to shave off my hair due to chemo and I’d lost almost five stone. My confidence was non-existent and I felt like a shadow of the woman I’d been.
Lost intimacy
Martin continued to look after me but the intimacy – including cuddling and kissing – had all but vanished in our marriage.
It wasn’t a problem we’d ever faced before. We’d always been a couple to hold hands in public, kiss often and cuddle in bed. But I was still having treatment and
