Corrigan’s memoir recounts his wife’s 18-month battle against triple-negative breast cancer.
In May 2017, Donna Corrigan, the author’s wife of 30 years, discovered that she had a lump on her neck. Before this, the Corrigans’ lives had been relatively uncomplicated. They met in 1986 at a park in Ontario, Canada; married; purchased a farmhouse in the same province, and made friends and endured losses together, such as the death of Corrigan’s uncle. The author recounts his wife’s independent nature, her active lifestyle, and, in particular, her ability to forge lasting relationships with others. Indeed, in this remembrance, the author draws on the words and recollections of many other people who loved Donna and bore witness to the last year and a half of her life. Two months after discovering the lump, she was diagnosed with Stage 3 triple-negative breast cancer, an uncommon and aggressive form of the disease. An arduous treatment process followed, including assessments, chemotherapy, emergency room visits, a mastectomy, radiation therapy, and, ultimately, palliative care. Corrigan’s writing style can be somewhat dry at times, especially in the opening chapters. When recounting his wife’s health troubles, he adopts a journal format, meticulously recording the dates and times of doctor visits as well as correspondence between friends and family. This choice sometimes makes the book as whole feel repetitive and slow. However, it clearly highlights how a serious illness can consume the lives of a patient and her spouse. At the end of most chapters, Corrigan includes a summary of “Takeaways/Lessons Learned,” reflecting on his experience and offering resources for caregivers and cancer patients. Toward the book’s conclusion, the author’s unflinching account becomes weightier, and at the very end, when Donna’s schedule is one of morphine infusions spaced three hours apart, readers will find Corrigan’s story to be sobering and heartbreaking.
A plainspoken and extensively detailed account of cancer treatment and the pain of loss.