My fiancé was diagnosed with Stage IV stomach cancer on August 13, 2021. He went through 8 months of chemo and immunotherapy, but nothing worked. When they went to do surgery on him in January 2022, they found his abdomen was riddled with the cancer. Still more chemo and immunotherapy. On May 6th, he had an appointment with the oncologist who sent him for a CT scan. The cancer had spread to his chest, liver, pancreas, and possibly his bones. He could barely walk that day. The best morning we went to the hospital because he was in so much pain. He died the next night, Sunday. May 8, 2022, Mother's Day evening.
On Sunday morning the doctor told us he had a few days. He didn't. It was a few hours. He was given all the pain meds he needed. He had tried to fight so hard, but he was just done and had no more to give.
I think he knew he was going to die sooner because he said his goodbyes to his family that evening. I stayed with him to the end and even helped put his body in the bag.
He apologized to the oncologist for not getting better and felt bad because the doctor had fought as hard as he had. That was the kind of man Carey was.
I never told him that I practically had to browbeat his family to get them there that day. He was just so grateful they were there to “support” him. He would have terribly hurt if he had known how they reacted and responded then and later on.
I miss that man so much. Cancer stole him away from those who truly loved him. Cancer sucks.
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I just lost my best friend more like a sister Melissa to cancer this past Thursday. She had stage 4 metastatic breast cancer that spread to her sternum, liver and bone marrow. The doctors give her a year and a half. She lived 3. Right before her boyfriend took her to the hospital she wanted to tell me goodbye. David told her you're not leaving yet. That was 8/14/23. Me and David would take turns spending the night in the hospice unit with her. She was just laying there sleeping most of the time. Wednesday afternoon I went to the parking lot to smoke a cigarette. I told her sweetie I'm leaving for a minute. I'll be right back. She said ok. I'm ready to go. Foe some reason I was the only one she would even try to talk to. I stayed until 9 that Wednesday night because hospice only allowed 1 to stayedwmmith her after visiting hours and it was David's tanyway. I told her sweetie I'm leaving to go feed my animals and I'll see you in the morning. She says ok. 7:30 Thursday morning David calls me to tell me the end is near. I never heard the phone. I woke up at 8:30 called David he told me everything I threw my clothes on and flew to the hospital which was 45 minutes away. Several months before I told her I wanted to be there for her when she took her last breath. She said she would wait for me if I wasn't there. Thats what she did. At 10:57 am Thursday morning Melissa took her last breath.
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Cancer it seems just doesn’t stop until it takes everything. I watched and cared for my son for eight months. From diagnosis to his last breath. He was 49 years old, single and loved riding his motorcycle and his two dogs that he lovingly called his girls. I saw him go from 190 pounds down to about 120. It was the worst feeling in the world to lose my child to so much pain and suffering. In the beginning I prayed for him to live, at the end, I prayed for his suffering to end
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