This past week has been full of days of worry and apprehension. One of the legacies of caring for a man with Prostate cancer is the worry that this will always be a worry. It’s like the ‘F’ word, fear, it renders you unable to allow yourself the indulgence of feeling safe. Of being able to stop the ‘what ifs’. To be able to relax in the recovery and enjoy the fact that at the moment, life is good. It’s like it’s always there, in the back and sometimes much nearer the front of your mind all the time. Even when, like today, I have tried to be happy, enjoy my family being here. It’s my birthday but even now, the nagging feeling is present in my head. This time last year I didn’t know whether this year, on our birthdays, both in November, my beloved man would still be with me. We didn’t know the extent of the cancer with a little ‘c’. We didn’t know how fate was going to treat us. We just didn’t know much. What we did know was the PC had barged into our lives, trampling over our ‘happy’ trying to destroy our peace. I know that this disease and others can leave legacies , symptoms of PTSD that can last a long time. I recognise some of the symptoms back from writing my book about my life, Remembering where these horrid feelings came from. My childhood. Revisiting the horrors of my abuse,I began once again back then, experiencing many of the symptoms such as Heightened startle reflex, jumping at every little sound. Ruminating, going over everything that happened and then catastrophising them. One day being happy then falling into deep depression and sadness. After the bullying from my daughter Lisa and her aunt Trisha, these came back big time. Just as I needed to be strong to fight the cancer with David, they rendered me almost unable to cope.Now, my birthday being here, my wonderful husband spoiling me along with my daughter and son-in-law and friends, life should be good. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy and so glad he has recovered so well, but a little voice inside keeps telling me not to relax, don’t take this respite for granted. Don’t get smug about your life.Then they are back. The ‘what if it comes back.’ ‘What if he is ill again’. What if, what if. Damn the what ifs!
November is a hard month but with happy parts if that makes sense. As a little girl my birthday was always a day to worry about, not one to look forward to. Not only did I get treated differently than my siblings on their day, not in a good way but life was always painful for other reasons. So my adult birthdays and those of my children and now husband, I always made a great deal of them and spoilt the person whose day it was. I married my first husband Terry, Lisa’s dad, on my 21st birthday so this, at the time was a happy. Recently, for a few years, my birthday was ruined by my daughter’s comments on my social media.At least this year, the nasties haven’t ruined my day and are leaving me alone, thank goodness. My dad, William, whose photo I placed as my profile on Facebook, had his birthday in November and so does my husband David. So it is a special month. Then of course there is so much to be thankful for. Remembrance day being the day before my birthday, Dad always made an extra effort, was always extra smart and stood wherever he was at 11am on the 11th day of the 11th month, and gave a salute. I often saw tears in his eyes for those he had as friends and those who never returned. I have always made a point of doing the same, not the salute but always stop everything at this time. This is the first year since his death in 1985, that I have been almost glad he is no longer here. I loved him although I wasn’t born to him, he was a good dad and loved us all. He adored Lisa when she was a child and a young woman and would have been horrified to know how badly she has treated me and her uncle, assisted by her aunt. It would have broken his heart to see how these two women have turned out and how easily they both hurt others. Especially me.
This past week.
Monday was a worrying time, living so far from my brother and knowing it would be a harrowing day for him, something he doesn’t need in these last months of his life. I was concerned all day and wished I was at his side. Distance sucks.
Tuesday David had an appointment with a consultant about a small lump at the side of his nose. It is a basal cell carcinoma, throwing us back to the early days of diagnosis last year. We know it is not the same but it’s that word, ‘cancer’, sends shivers down my spine. He is being referred to another hospital, Morriston in Swansea,the one he attends for the PC, to have it removed and have plastic surgery.
Wednesday saw me unwell, giddiness and unsteadiness is back and I am always concerned that I might become ill and then can’t support and care for my family.
Thursday saw us at the vets. Cody is losing his sight and ,we found, his hearing. I know he is getting old but don’t want to face that. He is 12 years and 8 months , good they say for his breed. Ellie Mae, out little Shih Tzu who has mammary cancer, is losing weight, this can be a sign of the disease progressing. She is well but slower and they both don’t eat well so I finger feed him and then she eats. I love these pets like family and can’t imagine facing their loss.
Saturday as I was cooking dinner, my cooker went ‘Bang!’ At first I thought my birthday lunch with family would have to be postponed but then remembered, yes we had not used it for a long time, that we had a Rayburn. Easy to forget not! Stress does that, messes with your head. So although I had been thinking this week couldn’t get any worse, Bang went the cooker but crisis averted.
Throughout this past week, I haven’t slept very much. When I do I have horrendous nightmares. I dream that David is in hospital and they won’t allow him home. I fight to get him discharged only to be told, he won’t make it through the night if they do that. He desperately wants to come home but the hospital won’t let him. I am in a dilemma and because it takes so long to get permission to have him home, I go back into his room, to find he his dead. I wake with tears streaming down my face. The other nightmare is the same or similar to one I had as a young mum. That was about having my daughter Lisa taken away from me by my ‘mother’ and my youngest sister Trisha, who always undermined me where Lisa was concerned, up until she stopped contact with us when Lisa was around 8 years old and Marie was around 3. Although no one knows why she broke contact I was relieved because of the way she was with my daughter. Now, as a Mum who knows that I have lost my daughter to her, for the wrong reasons and in a devious self-serving way on her part, the nightmares are back. Different but back. Maybe it is because of all the worry over the past years I don’t know. Maybe it is because PC has left me wanting, left me bereft of my life as it was. I don’t know, but they are back. Hearing in my dreams, Lisa calling out to me as I wrote in last weeks blog, and I can’t reach her, just as I couldn’t in my dreams when she was a small child, destroys me. My safe ‘here on the farm’ was stolen from me by these two women and then PC triggering all the symptoms of PTSD I had felt before. These legacies are so hard to deal with. When awoken by the intensity of these dreams, I try not to go back to sleep in case they creep back in, so I lie awake for hours.
Last night I tried to tell myself that I am lucky. In reality and on a good day, I know that. I watched the Remembrance show on TV and felt proud to be British. Proud of my father and brother, both who saw combat in the Royal Marines. Yes today I feel relief that Dad doesn’t feel the hurt around his granddaughter but sad that she has turned into to someone I no longer can be proud of. The concert last night was as always, full of pride, bravery and people united in remembering those who died so that we could have the life we have today. I have tried every why to unite my dysfunctional family but failed.So it is time, as I know I have said before, that I step forward into a life of gratitude, happiness and love.The damage done by the disease called cancer and the cancer that is within my own family have done their best to destroy me. I am today, one year older, wiser? Not sure but older. I have to push all the negative out of my life.
We in the groups I belong to have our own fight, I have seen how good people try so hard to support those going through their own battles of PC and am immensely proud to be part of this fight, to know these brave people. This is how we should behave, helping each other as they did in both world wars. I see bravery and courage in men and their partners fighting PC. every time I look at my page. I hope, if it becomes necessary again, I can draw strength from them and be courageous in my own battles.
So yes, life continues to throw ‘stuff’ at me but I have been told, ‘you can always try to throw it back.’ So I have decided that I will.
Watch this space!
Thankyou for reading.x
carolannwright 