Ok, here are some thoughts. Im speaking from my own experience; it may or may not apply to our H. Hopefully it will help though. Feel free to ask any questions.
As I said early I was diagnosed when I was 14. I spent high school in an out of a hospital. I have had surgeries, new treatments, and picc lines (special IVs that are used to give you nutrients and calories. You can even go home with them in. I graduated from HS with one on strapped to my back.). I haven't needed an ostomy but it could happen in the future.
Something that I have been pondering regarding my sitch: The traumatic experience of losing a spouse, being rejected and abandoned is totally different than the traumatic experience of having a chronic, and during a critical time period, potentially life threatening illness. I would have thought they would have been similar; a tough time is a tough time right? But the growth and pain that I experienced/ am experiencing through these situations is very different.
For me I think one of the biggest changes due to my illness was a drastic shift in perspective. Your H and I are/were pretty young. People our age usually are not confronted with mortality so, um, rudely. I faced an existential crisis. The illusions that we often carry with us; I don't have to think about death and I am in control of my life and (whats even more disorienting) my body, were stripped away quickly. After a bit of time, I saw my priorities begin to get shuffled around. Now, I was a teenager so my priority list is probably different than you Hs. But, I think all of my little changes in perspective totaled one grand one: life is not a performance. Things got REAL for me. I saw the social dance that takes place all around us as ridiculous. I was able to be more genuine with myself and shed just a bit the need for others to approve. This work wasn't finish then and clearly is still happening for me now, through my current sitch, but it began here. I saw much of life as a game, an arbitrary set of rules, that when all was said and done didn't really matter b/c for me all was about to be said and done. To be clear, this does not mean that I did not care about anyone else and ran around running stop lights and stealing cars because all of the sudden nothing mattered. Mainly, it had to do with our social decorum: you SHOULD dress like this, you SHOULD only say these things in public, you SHUOLDNT mention these things, you SHOULD think like this, and on and on. Life was too short and I was too sick to perform. Who has the time for this and why would you do it? Performing keeps us from being intimate with one another, it keeps us from seeing each other, it is a facade that protects us from our own insecurities. My illness shattered that facade when it hurled me 7 decades into the future and sat me down directly across from my mortality; my grave. From then on a lot of superficially things fade away and I am left with wanting to please myself, to truly find joy while I'm here and I want those who are around me to be joyful as well. Because this isn't a game, there's no time to waste, there are some things that deserve our attention and worry but most do not, relax and smile dammit.
My Story: http://www.divorcebusting.com/forums/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=1512790&page=1#Post1512790
