My life partner has a genetic disposition to cancer; it runs in his family, both on the paternal and maternal side. He was diagnosed with lymphoma in 1996. His chemo treatments were "successful" and he enjoyed an otherwise healthy 8 years in remission. In 2002 all of that changed.

Since I met him 20 years ago, 22 people in his immidiate family (from parents to siblings to first cousins) have developed one form of cancer or another. Currently, there are only 3 of those 22 still living with the disease.

New therapy (Rituxan) is failing. Twice he developed respiratory failure as an acute reaction while receiving the treatment in his oncologist's office. Now, tumors are appearing in everywhere (and by the way, he himself is a medical doctor.)

Just today his cardiologist informed him that he has a condition called "cardio-vascular spasm." In short, for some unexplained reason, the vessels of the heart spasm and clench shut, cutting off blood flow to the brain. There is no cure--at best certain medications (low dose nitro and calcium channel blockers) MAY alleviate the frequency of the episodes, or the duration of individual episodes. To quote the cardiologist: "Doctor to doctor, I suggest you get all your affairs in order rather quickly."

I looked at other forum topics such as Grief and Loss, caregiveing the primary source of support, encouragement, counsel, strength, information dissemination to family/friends....and all the while remaining strong in his eyes, for his BIGGEST fear is that HIS health burdens will eventually bring me to a breaking point.

I will never relent in my role as his partner--that has never and will never be an option for us, not out of guilt or duty, but because he allows me to be this to him, before any other, family or friend. But with each blow that he takes to the body--each new tumor, each new sign of treatment failure, each entirely new disease--I lose hope, I have already lost Faith, and I feel selfish to ever "gripe" about how difficult this is when HE is facing this in a much more grave capacity (no pun intended), and he does it bravely, with little complaint or "woe is me-ing".

Is anyone else going through this? The outcome is inevitable--this is obvious. We both know it--I just cant wrap my head around the concept that he can and will just have an episode without warning and be gone, or worse, suffer a devastingly massive stroke. Waiting for the devil when you know he's coming and being helpless to stop him--talk to me someone.