Husband Forgets How to Have Sex After Botched Cancer Surgery

Husband Forgets How to Have Sex After Botched Cancer Surgery

You know the standard Christian propaganda: wait until you get married to have sex, and the sex will be GREAT! Unless, of course, you end up in a (Link): sexless marriage, because your spouse develops health problems, was sexually abused in childhood, is under too much job stress, or…

(Link): How my husband forgot sex

    by SONYA LEA
    Feb 12, 2014

    When we were younger, he was the one who taught me to explore. Then he had cancer surgery — and came out a virgin

(Link): Husband Forgets How to Have Sex After Botched Cancer Surgery

From page 1:

    Feb. 20, 2014
    By SUSAN DONALDSON JAMES

    In 2003, as Richard Bandy prepared for cancer surgery that would bathe his abdomen in hot tumor-killing chemicals, he and his wife, writer Sonya Lea, talked about the possibility of his death, but also about potential impotence.

    The couple, then in their 40s, had been sweethearts since high school and said they enjoyed a close, sexually charged relationship.

    “We did the usual things everyone does with a life-threatening illness — we got wills ready and secured all the practical business,” said Lea, 54, who now lives in Seattle.

    “We looked at what our dreams were for life and got our bucket list,” she told ABCNews.com. “We were so optimistic. If sex doesn’t work, we’ll figure out other forms of sharing our erotic life. Many people who are injured or impotent have active sexual lives and we think we can do this.”

    Bandy even discussed allowing Lea to take another lover.

    Chemo bath heats up debate about radical cancer treatments.

    What they didn’t expect was that surgery would go terribly wrong and internal bleeding would cause a brain injury. In the decade since, Bandy could physically have sex, but his personality was forever altered.

    “You go into surgery, and you don’t imagine you will end up with a different man at the end of it,” said Lea.

    In a Feb. 12 article for Salon, (Link): “How My Husband Forgot Sex,” Lea writes about Bandy’s loss of short- and long-term memory and his ability to initiate and recall decades of marital intimacy.

    “The man who taught me to explore, has become as unknowing as a stranger in a strange land,” she writes. “Three years after the brain injury, it still isn’t possible for him to ask what he wants, or conduct a conversation, or remember the ways my body responds.”

    Bandy had a rare form of pseudomyxoma peritonei or PMP, a cancer that currently only affects about 5,000 Americans, according to Dr. Paul Sugarbaker, director of the Center for Gastrointestinal Malignancies at the Medstar Washington Hospital Center. It develops after a polyp on the appendix bursts and spreads mucus-producing tumor cells throughout the region.

    “It used to be universally fatal and now we cure 80 percent of them with a new type of surgery that involves perineotomy, stripping the insides of the abdomen and pelvis,” said Sugarbaker. Neither he, nor the hospital treated Bandy.

    The standard of care is hyperthermic intraperitoneal chemotherapy or HIPEC, a highly concentrated, heated chemotherapy treatment that is delivered directly to the abdomen during surgery. But sometimes, a high-dose chemotherapy agent can cause serious complications that can trigger bleeding in the brain or stroke.

    “We had a bad case here,” said Sugarbaker, who has since declared a moratorium on the use of that chemical at his facility.

    In Bandy’s case, his brain was deprived of oxygen for a critical period of time after 32 ounces of blood pooled in his abdomen during surgery, according to his wife. Lea said the family settled in a malpractice suit and was not allowed to talk more specifically about the case.

    Today, Lea and Bandy have been married 35 years. She writes about their decade-long journey in an as yet unpublished memoir, “Wondering Who You Are,” in which she explores issues of identity through cancer, brain surgery, travel, art, food, sex, wilderness and family.

    “I love her writing –- it makes me cry,” said Bandy, 56, who contributed several pieces to the book.

    “But there are fairly large sections of my life I don’t remember,” he said. “Not anything before high school or college. I don’t remember my kids’ births or my wedding day. I don’t really remember what sex is like before the brain injury.”

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