Jessica D.

About Jessica D.

In March of 2020, the world as we knew it stopped. Covid was here and no one knew what to do. But my world had already stopped. Just a week before, my 42 year old husband and father of my three young children was diagnosed with very aggressive prostate cancer. He had no symptoms and felt great, but thanks to a yearly PSA test, we found his PSA level was rising. Even though the initial tests came back ok, his amazing doctor knew something wasn’t right and pushed to dig deeper. After finally doing a biopsy, we learned it was bad. We had to do something and we had to do it quickly. We researched, talked to many specialists and weighed our options. We decided surgery was the right choice for us. That happened to be the same time that most non-emergency surgeries were being shut down and we were told he would have to wait. After many tears, angry phone calls and favors called in, we were able to get into surgery. I wasn’t allowed in the hospital, so I dropped him off on the corner at 5am on Friday morning not knowing when I would see him again. I went home and cried not knowing when or if I would get any news. After a 5 hour surgery the doctor called and said he made it out ok. The kept him only one day, because even though he was still recovering he was safer at home due to Covid cases at the hospital. So, at 10pm on a snowy Saturday night I picked him up on that same corner. He was still on a fair amount of pain killers and not very lucid. The nurse helped me get all 230lbs of him in the car and sent us on our way. I had no idea the struggles that were ahead of me. Learning to clean wounds, empty catheters, calm him after night terrors, and keep track of many medications, was just the beginning. We were so fortunate that his brother and sister-in-law risked their health and took our kids for almost a week so that I could bring him home and begin recovery. The next few months were a total blur. We were attempting to homeschool a second grader and twin kindergartners, work full time jobs and recover from major surgery. Andy couldn’t lift and could barely walk for many weeks. With all five of us home all the time, the dishes, laundry and trash were impossible to keep up with. We have wonderful friends and family who sent groceries, food delivery gift cards, and kept us stocked with toilet paper! But it was a strange time for everyone, and everyone was dealing with their own challenges. To say it was a lonely, dark place doesn’t begin to describe where I was mentally. Trying to keep it all together for the kids and for Andy took everything I had.
My caregiver story has a happy ending. Three months later we went back for his post-surgery check up and were told they got all the cancer out! He was moving around better and was on the mend. It was an incredibly scary and difficult time, but it was short lived. We know that isn’t the case for many cancer patients and we count our blessings every day. I have never had more empathy and compassion for those caregivers who spend months and even years of their lives selflessly taking care of loved ones and patients. They are the true heroes and they deserve all the love. and support the world has to offer!