These past few weeks it seems, there are more than usual, posts about the sad deaths of group members from PC .Each story is so hard to read, so full of heartache and for every story there is either a wife/partner, father, son or brother or sister grief-stricken. Lots of us comment, trying to help, trying to offer some kind of comfort and support, the reason for the groups existence, support and love. I often can’t find the words to say, stuck a bit in my own grief for my brother Tony, who died from Lung cancer a few weeks ago. I know that words can’t change anything. Make it better. Make the pain go away. Bring the loved one back. But sometimes I do try to offer some kind of support in my own way, with my own words. I try and convey my love and feelings of emotion, at their loss, in the hope that in some small way it might help. I use words so much in my daily life and hope they are not always futile. Grief is such a huge emotion, all-consuming at times and I think it is so good that we have these places, social media, groups available to share our feelings and thoughts, good or bad. I hope those bereaved in the PC groups gain comfort from the comments shared on here.
Anyone of us, as members of cancer groups, could be writing such a story, telling of our loss, our pain, our loneliness and helplessness. That I think, is the reason we try to comment in the most gentle caring way we can. It could be me, it could be any of us, walking that lonely road, feeling despair,feeling lost. I always try and stay aware of that. Every day I am grateful that our journey, is so far, positive, that it isn’t me telling the story, every day I am so much more aware of how others might be feeling.
My worry is, that new members, those just starting out of the road none of us wanted to travel, those in the early stages of this horrid disease won’t continue down the page, after reading of the sad death of a member.Continue down and read of all the men who are now having ‘Undetectable’ PSA’s. I hope they continue reading the success stories of men with PC. I hope they read the stories of men who have had surgery, radiation or whatever treatment they chose, see how they are now doing well, are healthy, running marathons, seeing their children grow up. I hope they look at the statistics and know that PC is now not always a killer, survival rates are so much better. When PC is detected early, men can recover and have a good life. Even when discovered later, at a different stage, it is not always a death sentence.
When I first joined the PC groups, I had already read and researched a great deal. I was welcomed and given some good advice, lots of support but along with this, I also read about men dying. I was overwhelmed and had to take a step back and re-group so to speak. It was all too much, sent me into panic. All I could see was that my beloved husband might die. It became all-consuming and left me reeling. Reading of deaths of men from the disease my David had, fueled the ‘F’ word and my world seemed to be spinning out of control. Cancer. Sickness. Death. That’s what I read, saw and believed. Those of you who have read earlier blogs will have read of my terror in the early days. My fears, my helplessness and back then, my anger at this interloper, barging into my happy world and threatening to steal the man I love.
As I said, I read of deaths, of PC being a death sentence and it seemed that I was ‘drawn’ to the worst scenarios. Not at that point, noticing, or even if I had, understanding things posted like ‘Undetectable!’ I found myself dwelling on the sad heart-wrenching stories of treatments, sickness, pain and death. I was in this dark bewildering, terrifying place that is PC Fog. Nothing positive stood out to me. Being strong didn’t stand a chance.
Now after David having surgery to remove the evil cancer, recovering and then getting back to being my strong man. My oh so capable loving husband. My rock. I am thankful to be able to post in my groups that he is now cancer free. Or as cancer free as possible. His last 3 PSA readings were undetectable and he is to have a check now yearly. How good is that! I share my joy, my ecstasy, on here, in my groups, to my friends to anyone who might be reading. David is okay. He isn’t going to die from PC!
Because I am a wordsmith, I hope readers read my usually long and detailed posts ( why use one word when you can use 30) on David’s PSA results, his progress, our life ‘here on the farm’ post PC and gain some encouragement and share a little of our joy. In one way, I am glad I write long posts on my page because there may be other Carol Ann out there, lost in her own fear, feeling desperate, feeling alone in the worry, anxiety and confusion that PC brings in abundance. She may be finding themselves scrolling past the short factual results of PSA’s and come across mine and feel a little reassured.
I must admit that reading of the sad losses these past weeks, I find myself feeling a little uncomfortable, embarrassed and yes, a little guilty. How can I be so happy and tell members of my relief, happiness and peace, when others are suffering so much. I now understand clients who come to me for CBT for stress after trauma, after a disaster, or from combat, suffering survivor guilt. I understand now in a way that all my learning during training didn’t actually teach me. Now I understand.
But we must share our heartache on here as much as we must share our happiness. We need to share it, that is why we are here. All of us. To listen, to share, to care and to comfort. We are also here to enjoy the success stories, each one is one in the eye for cancer with a little ‘c’. Happiness shared is as the picture says, joy. Sharing sorrow, although it can’t be taken away from the person feeling it, it can be felt to be lessened. The load of pain, spread around those who care, those who understand, some of those who have been there.
If you are the wife/partner, relative of a loved one who has lost the fight, my heart goes out to you. I won’t insult you by saying I know how you feel, I don’t. Losing my beloved brother brings me very close to understanding and hating cancer of any kind with a vengeance. Please continue reading the posts on here, if you can. You may find others who are feeling pain like you feel and this might, in a very small way, help a little.
If you are one of the ‘Undetectable’ on here, enjoy. I am so happy for you and every one of us who survive is shouting at cancer that it won’t win. One day, very soon I hope, no one will die from PC. Bring on that day!
At home ‘here on the farm’.
As some of you know, we have been moving our daughter Marie, back here with her 5 cats and three horses, of yes, and her husband. She has been very poorly and things became a bit too much. She has recovered very well and says that it is because she has ‘come home’. Although I am happy she feels like this, it also brings worry that we won’t always be here for her to ‘come home to’. But for now, we will all enjoy family life as it has now become, sharing care of the 9 horses and ponies, stable cats and my two dogs. She is living independently from us, the other side of our drive, in the static home with a new touring van to add space and extra amenities. So it seems to work, for now. We are and always have been very close, since she was a child as I was with her sister, so having her here is good and we know it works.
This past week I have been delighted to chat to someone who shared my girls childhoods, who was one of their friends, one of the many who often come home from school with my girls and played or later did homework. Often they would say they could talk to me in a way they couldn’t talk to their own mums. That happens doesn’t it. Sometimes ‘Mums’ are too close. This now woman, reminded me of lovely, happy times, silly times and parties I put on for my daughters. She said it was always good sharing our home, being with me and the girls and she always felt happy with us. She also told me that everyone would comment on how close a family we were, me Lisa and Marie, ‘Carol and her girls’. Said how lovely it was, as they grew up, to be part of ‘us’. You don’t know how good it was to hear. How lovely to be reminded of memories locked away. This time those memories didn’t hurt, what they did, was to confirm what I had always hoped, that my daughters had a good happy childhood. That is what every mum wants to hear. Why did it mean so much to me? These past years of pain and heartache, courtesy of my eldest daughter Lisa and her aunt, have almost managed to destroy my memories of that time, made me question them, but now I know what I have always hoped and known in my heart, I was a good mum, as good a mum as I could be, given the circumstance and that the children who were part of all of this, knew that .
Now back to check my new charges, feed the dogs and cats and then get ready for my clinic in the morning. Feels good to be back in work, back to helping those in need. It has been a horrible start to 2018 but I aim to make the rest of it as good and happy as possible. The caravan park over the way is active, I can hear children playing and smell cooking al fresco.The sun is out, the ducks playing on the pond and lake, horses and ponies happily grazing and my beloved husband sitting in the garden with a cup of tea. What more could a girl ask for .
Thankyou for reading xx
carolannwright 