Sarah Christie
Loss of Husband, George, to cancer
Hi Sarah! Tell us, what’s your story?
Hi :) I am Sarah Christie, I am a 27 year old, (going on 60) and live in Fairfield CT. I teach 2nd grade in the suburb, and absolutely love my job — teaching is my whole life and besides spreading kindness and compassion to others, I enjoy teaching the most. I also love to bake, organize, and run. I spend time with my friends, but don’t really enjoy the typical 27-year old activities anymore.
I love all things pink, obviously. Before I found teaching, I dabbled with cooking and interior design, but ultimately wanted to do something that directly helped a lot of people. I live with my little German pointer/Greyhound mix, Bailey, and just take one day at a time!
Can you talk about your life before the loss of your husband, George?
It was simple in the fact that our focus was solely on fighting cancer and our love for each other was that much clearer because of it. We had no time to worry about anything else. It was stressful because we had so much of life left to live, but we were so afraid to ask those questions of “will we be able to build a family? Will we have the life we dream of?” We were fighting for so much, but afraid to even acknowledge it because the thought of not having it was so painful.
Can you share about George’s diagnosis and experience with cancer?
George was a seemly healthy 29-year-old guy. Never experienced any chronic pain or anything. He was a great athlete, skier, swimmer, cycler - you name it, George was good at it. One night we were supposed to have a date night out to dinner, but George called me on the train home from work; he said he just felt bloated and not himself. I said we’re going to urgent care, and of course, he fought me on it (George hated the doctors). But I made him, and on the way he asked me “what if they tell me it’s cancer?” “They’re not going to tell you that. That's not going to happen—it’s all OK.” But, sure enough, they found masses on his liver that night. Then, what happened next sucks, but I’m sure happens frequently. After weeks of waiting, the doctors said they thought his tumors were benign, but then later contacted us again to say they had made a mistake. George was diagnosed with Cholangiocarcinoma (bile duct cancer), and we were never really told a stage (I believe because they didn’t know much about how long he had had it, and they didn’t want to scare us).
We saw several doctors, and surgeons within the next few weeks, but didn’t want to waste time. I didn’t even know then how quickly it was growing then. He was deemed inoperable because there were too many lesions throughout the entire liver. Recovering from a complete liver transplant would be harder than any treatment, they said.
From there, we didn’t really know where to go. We went to the doctor’s office that was connected with our urgent care, and started chemo treatment. Went through a couple different kinds, and nothing was working much, so they referred us to Memorial Sloan Kettering. It was there where he was able to start a clinical trial, and have access to more advanced medications. George reacted well for about a year; I really believe they extended his life by years. There was little to no growth in his abdomen, but over time that “little” growth added up into some big growth.
It wasn’t until June 2021, when George began having double vision, that we went back into the ER. They found tumors on his brain, and from that moment on his quality of life declined. They didn’t tell us until after radiation was finished but George had 17 brain tumors in there… and they were continuing to spread. We’d do radiation and kill the mets, but then more would show up. The doctors said they didn’t ever think to scan his brain because his other diagnosis was so rare. That killed me… If only they looked earlier, I still think. How long did he have those tumors? I assume awhile if there were so many…
Eventually, after clinical trials, immunotherapy, chemo, radiation, surgeries and procedures, we were at the end of the road. There were no more treatment options, and it was clear George was declining. His face started to change, his skin yellow, and the seizures were more frequent. Within weeks he was unable to walk by himself.
Just when we thought something was working, it would stop. Just when we felt hope, it was snatched from us. But we kept going until we couldn’t anymore.
I know firsthand how difficult, beautiful, and heart-wrenching it can be to be a caregiver to a spouse. What was that like for you?
It was absolutely all of those things. Beautiful because I have never in my life grown so close and intimate with someone before.
It was beyond painful and torturous to watch him lose his motor skills, his memory, his clarity, and his dignity in some areas. I NEVER wanted him to feel judged. I felt like I was the only one in the world that looked at him without pity or judgment, and that’s part of what brought us so close.
Any words of wisdom you would give to others in a similar situation - being a partner to a cancer patient?
Be patient, and truly take things one day, treatment, vomit session, night, at a time. Never be afraid to cancel plans, you will never care years from now. Make your home cozy, and don’t have any expectations.
You and George lived with his diagnosis for years. Did you feel any anticipatory grief?
I think I started grieving the day George was diagnosed with cancer. It’s definitely the day that my perspective and life changed for good. I didn’t realize it until after he passed, and I felt more relief than I expected to, I started to look back and come to terms with my journey. I didn’t want to believe he was dying until I had no other choice. It’s clear for me to see it now.
Can you talk about the day George died?
I was driving home from work on a Friday, and I got a call from my MIL, who would stay with George while I was working. She said that he didn’t want to get up all day, which was typical. I thought I just needed to get home so I could hug him and motivate him to get up a little bit. When I got home we talked about how hard it is, I asked if he was struggling, he kept saying, “I’m just so tired, I’m OK babe.” It was then I started to panic — something felt different and I just knew. I got him up and begged him to just do a lap around the top floor of our townhouse. Never had I seen him struggle so much to move. It broke my heart to see it, but I needed to see that in order to know he just needed to be in bed. I needed to listen to him now.
I told him to get in bed and nap, he was amazing for trying. I went downstairs and called his mom to come back. I knew something wasn’t right and I didn’t want to be alone. I called his doctor and we agreed to keep him comfortable at home until our new home nurse started on Monday. So family flew in (we are all spread out) and we waited. Saturday, I spent completely with George, wiping the sweat from his head, and laying with him. Crying and crying and just trying to soak in every last minute. Anyone that came in he asked to leave, he knew we just needed our own time.
By Sunday I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t be the one up there anymore because it was too heartbreaking for me. Thank god his parents were here too, because I needed support then. They took over for me while I needed breaks.
There wasn’t time for hospice. Of course, this was all happening on a weekend so all doctors were not working: that meant only emergency personnel were available. Our doctor prescribed medications to ease the pain, and it was clear that the pharmacist knew what was going on too. Closest friends and family came to say goodbye, and George spoke to the lucky few that held a special place in his heart.
The day he passed, he left us at 5:30 am, our favorite time of day before the sun rises. We knew it was happening any day, we just didn’t know how long he’d hold on. Around 5:15 his dad came down to get me. He said George’s breath was slowing and if I wanted to say goodbye I should. I went up to give him one last snuggle, and tell him it’s OK to go to bed. It’s all he wanted for years, just to sleep, and he finally could. His dad told me that when I went upstairs, he saw George's breath went back to normal again while I snuggled him. He needed to know I was OK with him leaving… and it just shows me how freaking brave he was up until his last moments, always putting me first always.
That day, 10/18/22, there was a HUGE DOUBLE rainbow across Manhattan, and all over CT. I believe that was George’s way of saying he’s at peace and sees us. To this day I am known for rainbows at school, and have the biggest rainbow collection haha.
What has life been like in the immediate months after his death? How have you coped?
I took a week off from school (it’s all the bereavement we are given for a spouse, believe it or not.) I spent the week with friends and family, I didn’t want to be alone and they were great at supporting me. There was now an overwhelming amount of responsibilities I was about to be solely in charge of. I kept my mind busy with things I love, school lesson planning, helping my kiddos, and doing things I wanted to do. Going for walks without panicking and checking the camera to see if George is breathing. Forcing myself to get up and try to remember what normal life is. I still feel like I’m stuck in an in-between, but what I’ve been doing so far is helping.
What was a specific low point or struggle you experienced?
Before I understood what was happening, I think I was in the bargaining stage of grief. I didn’t want to accept what was happening and I was MAD at cancer. My patience was a lot less back then. I would snap easily, and wasn’t as grateful as I was in the months and years to come. When it was just us two, and the new responsibilities of a serious full-time caregiver was so overwhelming to me. It was a dark time for sure.
How did you manage to find joy in those low moments?
I would let myself cry, and snuggle George. He was mad too, and he was even more brave that I was. He rarely got mad at anything, even cancer. Kind soul.
“Be patient, and truly take things one day, treatment, vomit session, night, at a time. Never be afraid to cancel plans, you will never care years from now. Make your home cozy, and don’t have any expectations. ”
How do you live life differently from before the loss (if at all)? Has your attitude about life shifted? Any unexpected changes?
100% I am a completely different person. I don’t worry about anything, and I do not sweat anything small. I talk more to people that I want to spend my time with, and I am a better more patient teacher. I’ve never felt more myself, to be honest. I feel like I’ve stopped trying to plan my life, and just started living it. Never in a million years did I think that I would be living ALONE, and planning to purposefully be a single mom (of twins most likely). But that thought brings me joy… I never thought it would. I pictured myself growing old with George, raising many kids, and being grateful for our BSL (boring safe life as we used to say).
What do you want others to know about grief?
It’s OK to talk about it, and you have to let yourself feel sad. It’s the only way to get through the days without feeling too weighed down. It’s completely overwhelming and forever present, but it can also be a beautiful thing if you let it.
How can a person best be there to support a loved one who is grieving?
Don’t give up on them, continue to reach out and offer help, meals, anything. Don’t say nothing. You HAVE to say SOMETHING…I couldn’t agree more the post you shared. The “friends” that don’t acknowledge George or my grief, are the people I don’t feel close to or speak to much now.
If you could go back and spend one more day with George, what would you do?
I would do exactly what we did before things got too bad: walk Bailey, order McDonalds, binge watch Selling Sunset, snuggle and talk for hours. I’d want 100% just uninterrupted moments with him.
If you could say anything without worrying how others would react, what would you say?
Sometimes being a caregiver is harder than being the patient. You need each other equally and in very different ways.
Any resources that were helpful for you that others might be able to utilize?
Honestly, instagram and therapy. I would never have gotten though it without therapy, learning how to communicate and copy as best I could. I also needed to be on anti-depressants, which greatly increased my quality of life. My anxiety/depression got to a point where it actually spiked my cortisol levels and caused a flare-up of my Lyme disease. I lost about 15 pounds (down to 92 lbs) and had extreme fatigue. It’s so important to take care of yourself, so you can take care of others.
Instagram gave me a place I could vent a little and see others’ experiences, although I didn’t truly give into any grief content until he had passed.
What brings you joy now?
Talking about George, being with my students, talking about George with my students lol! Teaching, baking, and thinking about the life I am going to have. Spending time with family, friends, and then having ALONE TIME, lol.
Anything else you’d like readers to know?
Before George went through treatment, we saved samples of her sperm so that IF anything ever happened, I would still be able to have children with the man I love, like I dreamed and planned. It seemed like a crazy thought back then, but now it’s coming to be that time in a few years, and it is one of the most magical parts of this whole journey.
Want to learn more about Sarah and her story? Check out her Instagram account, @_mrs.christie_.