I tell the person in front of me, everyday, that they have to keep going. Sometimes I don’t think she is listening or rather she doesn’t hear but I will tell her everyday anyhow. Who is she? The person in my mirror.
This blog is my story, not David’s not any one’s but mine. Indulgent? Maybe. Selfish? I hope not. Necessary? Yes.
Writing things down is a tool I give my clients so I am taking my own advice.
I said, the first week of this blog at the end of August, early September, that this is the story of how I am dealing with my beloved husband’s diagnosis and ultimate treatment for Prostate cancer.Not how he is dealing with it, not from his perspective because that is his journey but how I deal with or don’t deal with the many shocks and fears since he was diagnosed, out of the blue on the 24th August this year.It will cover the things we do together but mostly this is my chance to offload my anger, fear,sadness and shock at finding myself in this helpless situation that life has thrown at us.
Of course we are not the first couple facing this horrible disease and we won’t be the last. We are not special or needing sympathy because how would that help? We are an ordinary couple, still very much in love after 31 years together, who thought the next part of our lives, the time we hoped was for us, would be different from how it is panning out. This was ‘our’ time. Not having to worry about children, who have all gone their own way, not worrying about money because we have all we need . Not concerned about anything but the two of us. Well, perhaps we became complacent, a bit smug living here in this beautiful home looking out over the wonderful Welsh hills. I don’t know. All I do know is that we weren’t ready! Did not expect this. Never even thought of cancer entering our lives and turning our peace and quiet on it’s head. Wrenching at the pit of our happiness and replacing it with fear, pain, uncertainty and helplessness.No. We were not ready.
Today I am writing my blog from my sofa after being attacked by another nasty, Shingles. I have been and still am quite poorly and in excruciating pain, so although I will check this before it goes live, forgive me if I have made mistakes.My GP says it is because over the past few years I have been under a great deal of emotional strain and suffered bullying by family that has rendered me very low. That is when this virus attacks people, when they are vulnerable . So here I am, under attack from something else outside of my control. Not a good feeling and just when I need to be strong to plan ahead for David’s treatment. This illness has been coming on for a while and in a way, knowing what it is explains a great deal for me re my moods. Perhaps it wasn’t the shock of the cancer alone, maybe some of how I have been feeling or how I handled it,is a result of the Shingles. I don’t know.
What I do know is that I have to start taking care of me. As I tell clients, how can you take care of others if you don’t take care of yourself. That it is actually okay not to be there for everyone who ‘needs’ you. It’s okay to step back, to opt out, to rest. It’s okay to let others take the strain now and again, especially now. I need to get strong again to be there for David. I need to look after me to be able to look after him. I think this to be good advice for other wives, partners and families of men going through this horrid disease. The waiting, the not knowing, the researching and calculating and the endless tests and visits to hospitals that seem to have no immediate answers. We, the partners of our men, need to firstly be selfish and look after ourselves, or like me you may find yourself ill and not even capable of looking after you.
Nothing has changed since last week. We are still waiting for the appointment with the ‘team’ to discuss the way forward, so that in itself, is a strain.
We are all on this journey. You, reading this maybe, your husband or your partner, your family and in some way your friends. All battling this fight together and so we must start with looking after ourselves. It is okay to feel every emotion under the sun, goodness knows, those who read earlier blogs know to what extent I have felt them. Yes, I am still angry. Still scared. Still confused and bewildered by how a man as good as my beloved man has this nasty disease and this horrible fight on his hands. But I am here and will be here, standing alongside him and hopefully giving him strength when he needs it. But to do this I must look after me. David has been my rock, especially during the onslaught I have suffered over the past 3 years. He has always been here, held me in his arms and comforted me, no question. I need to be here for him.
Many years ago, a young mum of two daughters, I lost a baby boy at 25 weeks. I had been offered a termination because I was unwell but chose to continue with the pregnancy. My life wasn’t in danger and I wanted this baby. But it wasn’t to be. My son didn’t form properly in the womb and he was born sleeping. That evening my dad William, came to see me and I cried to him asking him why did It happen. Why did he die. My lovely dad said it was a test from ‘God’ and that I had passed. I didn’t feel I had passed anything, I felt such sadness that I can’t explain. My Dad told me that the easiest thing for me to have done, as the baby would have been disabled severely, was to have chosen to have the termination. I refused and he told me that was the test. Because I chose the hardest way forward, the decision had been taken away from me and I had passed God’s test. I never understood then, as I don’t understand all the very many other tests I have been given since. If this latest blow is a test then I have to pass with many gold stars.
Prostate cancer has been in the news lately, talking of not doing routine PSA tests. Yes, I wish I could un know what we now know. Yes, I sometimes wish David hadn’t had the test as a routine check because then we wouldn’t be going through all of this. But the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. Had he not had the test, then years ahead the cancer may have spread, unknowingly to us and killed him! So whilst all of this scare, this shock and this worry is painful, losing the man I love would have been indescribable. So NO. We can’t allow the PSA testing to stop.
So. Today I feel like ‘s..t. I feel scared still. I feel down and depressed but I also feel determined to get myself back to being me. So, I will keep looking in that mirror and keep telling the woman looking back at me, that although she feels tired and poorly, she must never give up. I will bounce back, I always do. I just wish it wasn’t taking so long.
So remember, always look after you first, then you will be able to look after those you love.
Thank you for reading .x
carolannwright 
Reblogged this on carolannwright and commented:
For Jane
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