“Stop it!”… “Stop it!” Those are the last words I heard my beloved say.

Even though he was receiving a steady and very high dose of Dilauded through his pain pump, the day before he died Doug awoke in a panic about every 90 minutes, grabbing wildly for the pump so he could get an extra dose. And even though the extra dose was immediately dispensed, it was too slow to protect Doug from the intense pain that the ever-growing cancer inflicted throughout his body, from his thighs all the way up to his chin.

This week's blog is brought to you by my amazing, powerful, gentle, wise husband, Doug Wilson.  As we continue to walk through the cancer jungle together, we do our best to allow ourselves to feel emotions as they come.  This brings us even closer to each other and it makes room for use to feel together - not only painful emotions but also the good stuff, like love, relief and ease.

As I think about the next segment of our penile cancer story, I’m struck by the fact that the last two posts occurred within the same day, and that was in October of last year! And we’re still in the thick of it.

After the initial shock and fear had waned, Doug and I decided to expect the best and focus our attention on practical things, things we could control, like asking his parents to watch Kára, our mini-pinscher, and rearranging work schedules for Friday’s biopsy. 

What we have here is known as ‘The Shits.’  And that’s how my dear, sweet husband, Doug, and I learned that the cancer had spread to his lung.  Doug’s oncologist does a good job of adding levity to moments like this and we all laughed after he’d said it, but we all knew The Shits was very, very bad news.