I met my husband Daniel at work in 2006, he was polite, friendly, charming and of course handsome. He was 33 when we met and within the first week of dating he informed me he had a tumor in his abdomen leading upwards from his diaphragm. I was 24 and wasn't too sure what it meant but I knew he was a keeper so I travelled with him to the hospital where he would have it removed 400km's away.

The 5 hrs that he was in surgery seemed to drag on endlessly. He had radiation and that was the end of it, so we thought. He told me about his past medical history which was quite vast and full, including having half his left lung removed from cancer and chemo but had been given the all clear. We got married in 2007 and conceived a child to be due February 2008. Late in 07 we found out that he had another tumor not far from the last but larger. We travelled 1000km's to have that tumor removed 6 weeks before our son was born.

"After receiving radiation things seemed to go well"

However the interest changed then to my mother who had just been informed that she had breast cancer, she had 2 lumps removed followed by chemo and radiation and to this day hasn't had a recurrance although the doctor's are now monitoring a small lump but won't comment more on it.

A year after our son Zak was born we conceived another child to be due December 2009. It had been 2 years since Danny's last tumour when he started getting pains in his stomach again and had bloated quite a bit. In March 2010 he had another tumour removed from the front of his abdomen which weighed over 1kg and was about 14cm by 19cm. Unfortunately, I wasn't with him for this operation as Ethan was only a few months old. After his operation when I finally got the surgeon on the phone I was told that the operation went well however the tumour's would continue to return and he had another small tumour about the size of a 20 cent piece remained as it wasn't in the surgeon's area although it wasn't connected to any organs.

"Their plan for it was to monitor it"

despite their knowledge of how aggressive his tumour's were. In September 2010 he had radiation on the tumour which had progressed to wrap around his aorta and start compressing on his spine.

He lost his job in 3 weeks before christmas until he had a medical all clear. We were put in touch with palliative care in December 2010, the nurse dealing with us told us he had 6 to 12 months to live in her opinion. We had received no condemning information from the doctor's or oncologist's who actually gave him 3 to 5 years. Danny always kept saying he felt great and that he didn't feel as if he were dying although the pressure on his spine was reducing the use of his legs. In January they did a 2nd stronger dose of radiation on the tumour at the site of his spine. He required a spinal decompression and fusion in March 2011 due to collapsed vertebrae. Again I did not make the operation as he was put through as an emergency while I was 1000kms away at my grandfather's funeral. He was only in the hospital for 1 and a half weeks before he was discharged without any meds and sent home on a train for 4 hrs. By the time I returned from the funeral he needed to be hospitalised again due to the pain. 

He remained  there for 2 and a half weeks. He required the use of a walking frame and needed a constant carer. He was discharged in April 2011, our relationship was very strained as he continually deteriorated. Despite then being in a wheelchair, heavily drugged and his continual loss of concentration he insisted that he was fine. By the end of April and after 2 falls he had become very argumentive and more persistant at trying to do things that were physically impossible for him. He seen my attempts at stopping him as just trying to control him and so he more targeted his frustration at me to the point where he would not speak or look at me.

"We had started seeing a naturopath earlier in the year which seemed to be helping and gave us some hope".

On the 3rd of May 2011 I went to the naturopath leaving Danny at home while I picked up some medication to help his concentration. When I returned I found him in the middle of the driveway from falling out of his toilet wheelchair. He would not accept help to get up straight away but after nearly an hour he finally agreed that he needed it. His palliative doctor decided to readmit him to hospital that night for a medication review. Before he left in the ambulance we actually had our first conversation for the first time in a week. He seemed to be improving, he was happy and singing and laughing at songs that were playing. I told him i'd go visit him in the morning so that he could get settled into a ward and get some rest that night. The next morning I rang the hospital to find out what ward he was in only to be told that they had transferred him to a private hospital the previous night. By the time I got to the hospital, they were bathing him and giving him morphine for pain. After an hour the nurse returned to inform me that he had rapidly deteriorated and wouldn't be leaving the hospital. By the time I got in to see him, he was totally unresponsive, he could not open his eyes and could not speak or move however I am certain that he could still hear. 

Following the palliative nurse's advice I took 3 of our 4 children to see him that afternoon. When I left later the nurse's said while they didn't expect anything to happen that night they wanted to know if anything were to would i like to be called.

At 10pm Wednesday 4th May 2011 I received the phone call from the hospital telling me I needed to come in as he had deteriorated more and didn't have long. I got to the hospital 15 minutes later and when I walked into his room there are 3 things that I will never forget. 1 the sound of his breathing, what they call the death rattle. 2 the smell, he was absolutely rancid. 3 the memory I don't want to forget, while he could not speak or move all day about 30 minute's before he died he somehow managed to say "I love you".

"I tell myself it's for the best"

It has been 5 weeks since my husband has passed and everyday I tell myself it's for the best, at least he's not suffering now but in truth I think everyday it's getting harder as I have not allowed myself to grieve as I have to stay strong for my children. Everytime my 3 year old son hears an ambulance he thinks daddy's home, tho he is slowly starting to understand that daddy will never come home.
My husband had a type of sarcoma which we were only told about 3 months before he died. He never once seen a sarcoma specialist, the only knowledge of the cancer I had was what I researched on the net.

This Thursday will be our 4th wedding anniversary, instead of sharing it with a kiss and hug from Danny I have his ashes because we didn't know the extent of his cancer which the doctor's have known about for years. When I asked about why the tumour that killed him wasn't removed when it wasn't a problem, they cannot answer me. I even mentioned radiowave therapy to the doctor's once to which they responded it didn't have enough evidence and costed too much.... how can you put a price on the life of someone you love? Even if it had only brought him an extra 2 years that would have allowed him see his oldest son start school and given his 1 year old a chance to get to know his dad.