The months after Alison discovered she had breast cancer were hell for her: surgery, radiation, chemotherapy and repeated hospitalisations with intractable infections turned the best part of a year into a bad dream.
What I remember clearly was the almost trance-like nature of my life at that time: helpless, hopeless, desperate for comfort that no one seemed able to give, but needing to be strong for her.
Occasionally, one of my wife's friends would say to me: "And what about you? How are you bearing up?" Some even gave me chocolates. But mostly I felt irrelevant and lost.
I was fortunate that I have a good bunch of mates I can sound off to when I'm feeling down, but none of them has a partner who's had breast cancer. It felt like no one really knew what it was like for me.