Daniel (he/him)

When you were first diagnosed with anal cancer, did you think about or have a discussion with your doctor about how the cancer and treatment would impact your sex life?

When my partner and I were at the doctor’s office and I was diagnosed, in that moment sex was not on my brain. It’s not something I was thinking about. My doctor is one of the best doctors I’ve ever had, but as a straight doctor, I don’t think gay sex was on his brain.

What was your doctor’s strategy?

I’d have chemo and radiation. Penis and ass were not part of the conversation. We’re just going to target the tumor. At this point I started reading articles online about erection dysfunction because of radiation. It doesn’t last forever, but it lasts a good 10 years before you’re able to fully function. I didn’t want to fall into that group of men that had to take a pill to get an erection and plan my sex. The other concern was can I still have anal sex? We realized the radiation was going to eliminate the cancer, but we were losing at least half of the sphincter too. My first thought was, “Oh, cool. No gag reflex on my butt. It’s like, ka-ching, you go boy, college fantasies coming true.”

You were thinking the results of your treatment weren’t going to be so bad after all?

Unfortunately, we didn’t realize what losing half my sphincter meant. It meant diapers and no control. I’m thinking, “Shit, literally.” How is this going to affect having sex? You’re having sex and your body just decides to release at that moment. They didn’t close up my anus. There’s still a hole, but because radiation caused so much damage and swelling, I needed to get an ostomy. Because of where the ostomy bag is located, I was concerned how is this going to affect oral sex?

You wear it on the belly right? 

Welcome to my world. And that became an issue too. Why would anybody want to go down on you with an ostomy bag?

So you haven’t gotten to the point of blowjobs with your partner?

Nothing.

Nothing?

Not anything. Anal sex is still not going to be on the table because physically I can’t do it; not comfortably. Even being held sometimes is uncomfortable for me. I just feel like if you’ve ever met somebody with an ostomy, as hard as you try, there’s still an aroma. I want to have sex again. I want to be intimate with my partner. I want to be able to stand naked in front of him and not feel embarrassed or ashamed or not worthy. I feel incomplete sometimes. I need to convince myself that I’m not. Harsh as that sounds, this is my reality.

What’s the recipe for how you and your partner are negotiating when you might be ready again?

We both have therapy individually, but we haven’t had couple’s therapy to discuss our personal relationship problems. It’s really easy for a person to fall into caregiver space, but then it’s a lot harder to detach. The sad thing is you create rituals and patterns. The way we lay in bed, who goes to bed first. There’s been all these different things over the last five years since my diagnosis and they’ve become normal. Then you become that couple like Mildred and John that just go to bed every night and barely touch.

Are you afraid everything you’ve experienced with cancer could be detrimental to your relationship?

I can’t deny we’ve had [relationship] issues with my cancer. I’ve thought, what if we broke up? I’m not afraid of being alone. I thrive sometimes when I’m on my own because I don’t have anybody stopping me from doing what I have to do. But then this committee of gay men pop into my head and start throwing confetti and glitter everywhere and go “Girl, you single now and you have a hole in your belly.” What are you going to do? You can’t provide any anal sex and your weeny doesn’t get up anymore. I’ve thought to myself, “Oh shit, you’ve got to make this relationship work” because if you don’t, who’s going to want you? Who will love you physically? Then the other sarcastic side of me goes, “Well, you don’t have it now. What are you complaining about?” But there’s still hope.

What advice do you have for couples who are going through cancer treatment and realizing the impact it can have on their sex life? 

I ask everybody and anybody who comes to me and is newly diagnosed with cancer and has fears, “Are you going to therapy?” You need somebody to be there for you through the process; who understands what you’re going through. I don’t know if cancer is to remind me of my value or reassess my value. It took a lot of time and lots of therapy to make me realize my ass is not my only asset. No pun intended.