Have you sat quietly and asked God to help you figure out the answer? I left my spouse in June of this year due partly to this issue. I had my surgery the first time in July of 2017. I was eating supper that my spouse cooked for me and within 15 to 30 minutes, I was sick as a dog! I waited, hoping that the pain would stop, but it got worse. I was rushed to the hospital and into emergency surgery where I lost all of my lower bowel. It died in less than 24 hours!! I had been married for almost 12 years and hadn't had marital relations for 10 years. His excuse was that he was not interested. For the last 5 years, I have been praying to God about what to do. I was healthy and everything worked just fine. I wasn't ready to give sex up. I had talked to him numerous times about this and begged him to go to the doctor to get help and answers. When he finally did go, the doctor said it was an easy fix as his testosterone levels were barely registering. Just a simple shot, every 90 days. He refused. Then when I got sick the first time in 2017, I began to believe he tried to kill me. It is hard to get that out of your head once you think this way. 12 days prior to getting sick, I broke my foot while at a doctor appointment at the VA hospital in Salt Lake City. I fell over a piece of broken concrete on the sidewalk one block away from my hotel after walking back from supper the night before. I ended up having to cancel my flight back to Billings and stay at the hospital where I underwent surgery to put a screw in my foot. I was ordered to not bear weight on it for 90 days. So because of this, my husband had to drive to Salt Lake City VA hospital and pick me up. So here I was, 12 days later, cut from stem to stern, stapled and fitted with an ileostomy bag. Frankly, I was a mess and something did not go right with the first stoma surgery so for the next 7 months, I was in sheer pain and could hardly eat a thing. I lost over 30 pounds before the doctor diagnosed me with a stricture and I was again rushed into surgery. The doctor said that I had the worst stricture he had ever seen in his career! Plus, I had numerous adhesions that he had to cut away. By this time, I hardly saw my husband. He pretty much stayed up in his office where he could smoke because I didn't allow him to smoke any place else in the house plus it was bad for my healing. When we married, he did not put me on any property. When he purchased a new cabin after his other one burned down in 2012, my name was no place on the deed. However, he expected me to assist in the remodeling of the cabin. He expected me to cook, clean, and help with painting and cleaning of his apartments that he owned and rented out. But through all of this, there were no arrangements made for me if he was to pass away. If he were to die, I would have to move out of his house immediately. There was no Life Estate of any kind, and I wasn't even listed in his will. He even expected me to pay him for the use of the garage where I stored my things that were in my house, that I sold, to move into HIS house. I know this is a lot to digest, but bear with me as I get to the point. I started to realize that I was not a wife but a roommate. He was just using me for cheaper taxes and a housemaid. Prior to breaking my foot in June 2017, maybe around March 2017, I gave him 60 days to find and set up an appointment with a counselor so we could get help for our failing marriage. If he did not find someone before June 1st, I would be getting an apartment and moving out. He waited until day 59 before securing a counselor. We started counseling and things started to get a little better, but every time we left counseling, I felt incredibly sad. We continued to go until I had my throat surgery on June 7th at the Salt Lake VA hospital. Then, I went back for my checkup on June 26th. The night before that is when I fell and broke my foot. We made two more counseling appointments before I got sick on 12 July and had my 2nd ileostomy surgery. I couldn't go to counseling for a few weeks, so my husband went on his own for a while. In October, the counselor told us she would be moving out into her own practice in December. She also let us know that she would be going out on maternity leave in February. She called us in late December and said that she was having difficulty getting the Medicare up and running but would see us pro bono on one appointment in January. We saw her once more, and then everything stopped. Everything went back to the way it was before we even started very quickly. Finally, in late April, we had a considerable argument and he proceeded to get up into my face and call me some horrible names. I had been enduring these fits of rage on his part shortly after we got married. I had never seen this abusive behavior during the 5 years we dated prior to marriage. After the horrible name-calling, I stayed up all night, pacing, praying, begging God for an answer to my horrible life. The next morning, at 7:00, God answered me. He told me to move out to my own place, but I was not to divorce. I was to give my husband one year, and if he had not made the needed changes by then, I was to divorce. I moved out in June. My husband didn't really think I would do it, but when I got my apartment keys on June 1st, he finally realized I was serious. So maybe it would help you to talk with God and ask Him what to do. It took over 5 years of prayer and talking to God before I got my answer. You have to work on His timeline, so it may be a while, but He will tell you what to do. It may be your husband who no longer wishes to dwell with you. If this is the situation, it is not your fault at all, especially if he will not have martial relations with you. So it may not have anything to do with your surgery. You have to take care of yourself, so deciding what you want is very important now. Listen to God, and you will receive your answer. When you receive it, follow through so your husband will realize you are serious. Good luck to you.