As I awoke this beautiful Sunday morning, for a fleeting second all was good in my world. The dogs were still asleep in their baskets at the foot of our bed, everything was silent and still. My beloved husband was still sleeping beside me and for one short moment, I felt as I used to. Waking up with beautiful views over the Welsh countryside had always been a bonus to living here and always made me grateful. I stretched and sighed and then Bang. Reality checked in! All was not well, not the same, not okay and not any other adjective that meant good. As I tried hard to push the thoughts out of my head and climb back into the world where all was right and beautiful, I was dragged back into the reality of how life was today,3 weeks before Christmas 2016 and my head began to ache.
As you may know, I have kept a kind of log on here of my Journey. Back from the 24th August when the consultant said those words I have tried every way to erase from my memory. ‘I am sorry Mr Wright, but you have cancer’. Said like you would tell someone they had Flu, or an infection. Not told with any enormity of the reality. Not told with care or compassion. Just the words. The diagnosis and then given the literature to take home and read. David was okay with this, he said he would rather that than sympathy because that wouldn’t help. He wanted to have the facts and then leave. We left and life has not been the same since.
I have good days and bad days and today is a bad one. My husband is as I have said before, very pragmatic and just wants to see the consultant and surgeon, discuss the options and get it sorted. That will be this Friday then. Another hospital, another consultant and hopefully something positive to focus on.9th December, 11 am in Swansea. Etched on our minds. The day and time things we hope will be finalized.
Christmas as a child was always hard. Treated differently to my siblings, I learned how to appreciate the art of giving. How to enjoy watching my brother and sisters open the gifts they had asked for and more and to be grateful for the small present I received. When I had children of my own, without spoiling them too much, I always made sure the gifts they really wanted, I gave them. Christmas was always a happy time and I made it last for the whole week, up until New Years Day when we had another celebration.
For the past 31 years, I have shared my Christmas’s with David, given him a stocking, along with my children’s stockings. As the years went on and my eldest had her own family, we had Christmas dinner together, sometimes on the day, sometimes on another day to accommodate their own families. Always a happy time, a family time and I tried my best to make sure everyone had a happy time.When my grandsons were small, it was always a fun time. I remember buying my first grandson Harrison a set of drums. Not a popular choice but he loved them. My eldest continued my traditions, a huge tree, lots of decorations and presents. I am pleased she still does this, or rather I hope she does.
Christmas is a time of sharing, a time for family and time for fun. This year that will be hard. My eldest and her family are no longer in my life and I miss them so much. With David’s diagnosis hanging over us, I am not yet into the spirit of the ‘silly season’. I hope I get there for his sake. I hope I can make this special as I have always tried to do for those I love. I hope so but am doubting my resolve today.
So, on first waking this morning, life was good. The sun was shining and the glistening from the frost on the windows was amazing. I walked over to the window and looked out across the Welsh hills but could not see the beauty. It seems to have disappeared. I no longer enjoy very much, cancer has stolen that from me. Rotten rotten rotten cancer!! The world outside looks the same but I know it isn’t. Maybe if I shut my eyes again and go back to bed and to sleep, I could awaken all over again and things this time will be okay. If only I could time travel. Either back to before 24th August and stay there. Or forward to the time all of this was over and life could start again. But I can’t.
I read the group posts and on good days gain so much from them. Especially the ones where men have had the op and are now okay. Life for them is good again and I smile and rejoice in their happiness. I want that. As a child another thing we were never allowed to say ‘I want’. Well I want! I want David to be cancer free and our life back on track. Not a lot to ask is it.
Thank you for reading.x
carolannwright 