Even though I have worked in the healthcare field for many years, nothing in my career had prepared me for the emotions that overwhelmed me.

I feared for my husband’s survival. I imagined him suffering physically and emotionally. I had a myriad of questions about our future. How would we cope with the consequences of this painful experience?

Ben underwent a radical prostatectomy, the surgery offering the best chances of recovery. In addition, if the cancer recurred, Ben would have other options, such as radiotherapy or hormone therapy.

To better prepare myself, I read extensively on the subject and spoke with experts. At my hospital job, I’m fortunate to be surrounded by a strong team of colleagues who have become friends. Upon hearing the news, a psychiatrist told me, “It won’t be easy; you’ll need to use all your coping skills to the fullest.” And indeed, those words proved true.

I consulted two highly competent clinical nurses from the Urology Department to understand the meaning of erectile dysfunction. I learned that nerve and tissue damage is virtually inevitable with radical prostatectomy. Although surgeons try to remove the cancer while sparing as many nerves as possible, the process of nerve regeneration in cases of erectile dysfunction can take up to two years. I began to realize that it was a long process full of uncertainties. The nurses explained that men could have orgasms without having erections.

This information greatly relieved me: we could still be intimate and enjoy pleasure together. We didn’t have to erase this aspect of our lives. Why did it take until the age of 50 to learn this? It’s true that during puberty, we’re presented with a single model of sexuality, and with the fervor of adolescence, we adhere to it. It becomes our benchmark, and we continually strive to measure up. Today, I believe there are multiple models of sexual life.

Prostate cancer is a man’s disease, but I realized it’s also a couple’s experience. Physical recovery after surgery was only the first step. Incontinence and erectile dysfunction could have devastating effects. I had read many testimonies and research reports. Many men feel devalued and depressed, and they experience sexual insecurity. Their quality of life diminishes. Stories often reveal the loneliness between the man and his partner, each engaged in their own struggle. As for me, I wanted to preserve the joy of life that my husband infuses into every project. Ben had taken three months off. I decided to stop working at the same time to help him through this difficult period.

Looking back on our experience, I divide it into three phases. The first two are relatively short: the crisis caused by the diagnosis and the decisions regarding treatments. In our case, surgery was part of the second phase; physical recovery lasted about three months. As for the final phase, it has no end. It’s a long road to recovery, trying to regain a sense of fulfillment as individuals and as a couple. That’s where most of the work lies.

Gradually, during this third phase, Ben, the “patient,” ceased to be the center of our concerns, and we focused on the needs of our couple to find some balance. The illness truly shakes this fragile stability, creating multiple obstacles in its wake, particularly those affecting the couple’s physical and emotional intimacy. To preserve their intimacy and complicity, especially in times of crisis, partners need to be able to openly discuss their feelings and vulnerabilities.

We are a very close couple and have always believed in discussing important matters. But for me, this experience was very different. Why burden my spouse with my concerns while he was battling cancer and his life was turned upside down? My greatest fear was to hurt him unintentionally. In the weeks leading up to the surgery, I repressed my emotions, hoping to spare him my anxieties. I tried to guess his fears and concerns, but my silence created real tension between us. It isolated me and distanced me from my husband. I felt we needed to talk. I was relieved to learn that Ben was willing to discuss his illness and wanted to know what was worrying me.

Indeed, overcoming these obstacles while ignoring what the other was feeling was even more difficult. We calmly discussed our fears about the illness, a possible relapse, incontinence, and erectile dysfunction—a problem that could be addressed, but perhaps not. Our life had always been enriched by our physical and emotional intimacy. How to adapt? Were we capable? We were convinced that surgery was the right choice because it offered the best chances of survival and recovery, which was a top priority for us. Through discussion, we hoped to find a solution.

After the surgery and a very tumultuous postoperative period, Ben and I felt that our lives had undergone profound changes. The surgery forcefully reminded us of our vulnerability and how quickly our lives can take an unexpected turn. We were relieved to learn that the pathology results were excellent and the risk of relapse was low. Ben began to regain his strength.

We started to calmly examine the emotional and physical repercussions of this experience and the side effects affecting Ben. Physical intimacy was no longer a familiar and comfortable practice. The comforting element of our relationship was at stake. It was our way of expressing our love for life. I wanted to preserve this feeling. Once again, I found myself censoring my thoughts and feelings. I felt my partner was fragile and vulnerable. He had undergone such a tough ordeal.

I remember feeling sadness thinking about what we had lost and how our future would be altered. Adding to that was the fear of being unable to recreate a new balance. It became evident that all these emotional and sexual questions could only be resolved through dialogue. We were able to help each other, encourage one another, and share our fears and frustrations.

I’d like to share some elements that helped put us on the right track:

You need to understand that the healing process is long. Physical changes following surgery can manifest for two years or more. Mentally, partners need this period to adapt to these changes. In the absence of clear answers about the future, the couple must learn to live with uncertainty. Every couple needs to find its own balance.

Our conversations allowed us to help each other and solve some problems as they arose. We cannot control physical manifestations, but we can control our interactions and the emotional climate. Gentleness is so important. The conversations we had while enjoying a glass of wine helped us relax and better understand each other’s reactions. It was not always easy to find the courage to talk about our situation and what wasn’t working, in order to explore other options.

Here are some questions that led to discussions

How do you feel and what do you think about all these changes? What is the hardest part for you? What helps you get through? What isn’t working? What has been the most frustrating or difficult? How can I help you? I was often surprised by his answers, which shows that even being very close to my partner, I could never be sure of his feelings.

Three months after the surgery, we consulted healthcare professionals to explore therapeutic options for erectile dysfunction. Reading reports on this, we often found that people wait a year before consulting a specialist. This initiative certainly helped us move forward and reduce the frustration associated with passivity. I felt it was better to have no expectations. Whether an erection was possible or not, we both had to accept it, without judgment, without expectations, and without seeing it as a failure. We needed to take time to appreciate each other’s presence and explore new ways to give each other pleasure. Over two years, there are many changes. It’s a time when the couple must spot the sometimes subtle but still significant turns.

In conclusion, I can say this: even though the surgery only lasts three hours, the healing process, both physical and emotional, spans two years. I often look at his long scar and think, “It wasn’t a dream.” I am deeply reassured to see that we have held up well. This difficult road has been filled with tears and anxieties, but we maintained a good sense of humor that saved us many times. Today, I am happy that my husband is alive and full of energy. Indeed, passion and, above all, quality of life can survive prostate cancer. We intend to live together for a long time.